"reefer" poems
I hate marijuana.
It is a class A drug for a reason.
It destroys your brain and brings anarchy to the world.
Me looks both ways to see if anyone around
ok mon, now dat da feds are gone, lets get ta business.
***Me inhales me blessed ******
**** is cool. It's actually really nice.
If ya t'ink otherwise, den ya better t'ink twice.
Me gonna tell you, why Reggae is my life.
Me love Reggae so much me wish it was me wife.
Marijane is me love. Spliffs and Reefers too.
Kush makes me so hot you'd t'ink I had da flu.
Why should ya smoke herb? Me gonna tell you why.
When ya smoke heaven's grass ya feel like ya gonna fly.
Away from all ya problems. Towards a purposeful end.
Makes ya feel, so nice. **** you will soon befriend.
******
hErb
Green
Grass
****
Everything Cook and Curry (Reggae term for "Everything is Fine")
REGGAE
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 9:32 PM UTC
Reggae
Power
Love
Spliffs
Zion
Temptations
Marley
Pussay
Dank
******
REGGAE
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
Baa, baa, Green sheep,
Have you any kush?
Yeh, mon, yeh, mon,
Three bongs full;
One hit for ma tyke,
And one for ma ****
And one for the batti boi
Who lives by caribe.
Baa, baa, Green sheep,
Have you any ******
nah, mon, nah, mon,
no spliffs mon;
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
Yo Jaco, are you high?
The ****** Gods be trippin'.
***** be drippin'.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
Hello, my name is Reggae Reggie, and this is my confession.
I am a Reggae mon. My life is Reggae.
I love being a boombastic island boy, slouchin', couchin', and enjoyin' a splif of Reggae love.
I spend most of my time in my home, listenin' to dank Reggae.
Reggae always calmed my mind, until it told me to **** her.
I never would've don it, but sometin' changed.
Reggae
Reggae told me she was a Reggae sham.
Listenin' to screamo on the down low.
That **** What a freak.
Reggae
I was mindin' my own business, lightin' that sweet, sweet Reggae ******
Next thing I know, my hands are around her neck.
She begs for Reggae mercy.
Reggae
Next ting I know, I'm in my Reggae basement, blood pourin' all over me.
From her lifeless Reggae body.
The smell of a dank mornin' fills my house.
I love it.
Reggae
I snap out of it.
Realize what went down, downtown.
It wasn't me. It was Reggae.
Reggae Made Me Do It.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
reggae school is a place to learn or at least thats what they say
but really reggae schole is where kids are scared and they pray
no fun allowed at reggae school, the teachers think that they are cool
a girl tryd to sneak in ****** the principal caught her then he beat her
but all hope is not lost at reggae school
for santa clause's reggae brother santa kush came to save the day
santa kush is nice, smart and rolls a blunt that could blow you away
he save da children and he rips a **** too
santa kush read poem and do analytical review
santa kush save the kids from da reggae school
thank reggae jesus, he's reggae cool
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
Reggae night, rasta night,
Blunts are rolled, tru de night.
Round young spliffs, rolled so tight,
***** and ****** hit me so right.
Smoke in heavenly peace,
Smoking in heavenly peace.
Reggae night, rasta night,
Island boy, raised up right.
Radiant beams from thy holy ****
All night long, we be singin' dis song.
Poundin' dat kush so hard,
Pounding that ****** so hard.
Reggae night, rasta night,
Slappin' de bass, it's quite a sight.
Kush smoke climbs to de heavens above
Jaco greens out, Hallelujah.
Reggae the Savior is born,
Rasta the Savior is born.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
eloquence in this. kiss
& cough.
from dirt to
light to
love.
days begin
with dreamcoast, cast, and chase the air,
or rhythm of rain.
raygun.
& flashpoint to ember.
to knuckle.
to cortex.
she smells fantastic.
she she she
like, a
sweet kind of thing.
like, a
nice incense.
& i feel today is a holy day of the week.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
Sitting in de street
Spitting out a reggae beat
Rollin up a sticky spliff
Jammin out a reggae riff
JAH knows I take the fattest hit
**** this ****** is strong as ****
I see a glint in the eye of a guy
On de street, just passin by
He flicks some cash in me cup, and I begin to smile;
For in my heart of hearts I know, he feels my reggae style
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC
Met this easy chick that don't **** **** she a no brainer
I said **** my duck and she said "What could be lamer?!"
Defamed, I went home cried and smoked some ******
Watch teletubbies in my ****** like my last name was schiefer
I went to bed and heard a scream
like R.Kelly I peed my sheets
Turns out the ****** was laced some sort of hallucinogen
I'm worried that in my bloods a carcinogen
decided not to worry cause whats the point
We all die so chill and roll a joint
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC
the radiator croaks
like bourbon and Barnaby Jones huffing ******
in a lead Zeppelin; and heat clinks like a spider's tooth
on a moist towelette. and the stars hold a bounty of something deeper.
a dread helpless, in mean peace with a vital vital Truth
with no choice, as yet; but a marred County, of Big Thinker.
and you can hear the wrinkles on an Angel's *** and prove
the useless rude. and politely
unseat the morning sun
through the levolor
minds
during eclipse.
during a near
miss
from the dark-side
of a rogue
moon.
the hard way.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 6:51 AM UTC
We wish you a Reggae Christmas,
We wish you a Reggae Christmas,
We wish you a Reggae Christmas,
And also some kush.
Good ****** we bring,
To you and your spliffs.
We wish you a Reggae Christmas
And also some kush.
Now play us some fresh Bob Marley,
Now play us some fresh Bob Marley,
Now play us some fresh Bob Marley,
And we'll jam out some too.
We won't smoke until ya roll some,
We won't smoke until ya roll some,
We won't smoke until ya roll some,
So bring dem right here
OH **** please don't green-out,
OH **** please don't green-out,
OH **** please don't green-out,
That was a close call. PHEW!
Good ****** we bring,
To you and your bluntz.
We wish you a Reggae Christmas,
And a Happy Blem Year.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
The walking dead fill these streets
Hollow eyes and empty minds
Cluelessly they shamble on
Knowing nothing of *****
Herb is my liberator
I find freedom in the kush
One ****** puff sets me free
My chains are broken by ****
Babylon consumes our minds
Men walk like zombies entranced
If everyone had a spliff
All the world would be at peace
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
Habitually smoking your gear
Drowning your natural drive of energy
So soon, a year becomes a week which lasts towards a
day.
Trying to reach a high you had in your teens
Sitting there watching your life go by
Until you're ******** by marijuana poisoning
According to your friends you don't
Have any
Straight people industrialise their circles
And despatch you into a corner
Where they keep the addicts, tortured and isolated
Within the buzz they experienced a decade
Ago.
Paying a fifty or more on something
That causes you loss of memory and an idle psyche
If you are not going to credit your ****
People will look beyond you
Even when they need you.
You are elsewhere in the invisible car-crash.
The relief of escape
the brave gunja smoking cool Mr Frosty
The idea of talking to someone like you
Has really lost me. He hides his snide profile, behind a ******
I just have a smoke now and then.
It depresses me just enough to be depressed.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
"Sit down boy, you're tired and you must sleep"
The voice said to me as I walked the city street
Fuzzy steps taken to a bench I saw over yonder
Sleepily wandering, the streetlights I ponder
Passive disorientation, I'm lost it would seem
Consciousness becomes a trickle, as opposed to a stream
Dragging myself over shards of glass, paralysed and sleeping
A shadow 'neath the moonlight seems to be steadily creeping
Isolated in this park in the darkness on a sigma plateau
Dextromethorphan hallucinations are a spectacular show
I'm indifferent to the stranger, drowsy as he appears
Isolated in the nighttime winds, apathetic to his tears
Uncoordinated my head falling he takes a seat softly
Dissociative disorder makes me seem awfully frosty
Speaking of lands where the populace truly is free
Speaking unintelligible words, indirectly to me
The intrinsic disconnect of this generation scorned
As the sun rises in the sky, glittered clouds adorned
My head lulls lackadaisically, I'm feeling unwell
But my stomach is eased when I think of sweet Maybelle
[Hers is a Nabokovian tale of passion in proto-dystopian wastelands
The first time we kissed, I held her soft head tenderly in my hands
The serenade of rain pitter-patter on the ground, like her feet when she's near
and hearing her name is as cathartic as those old jazz records I hold so dear
But, oh my pretty Belle, your age is a concern to me (and the eyes of the law)
So to forget your sweet face, I pop pills neglectfully, passing out on the floor]
Lifting head slowly from the rough ground dampened
Four years passed and I'm wondering what happened
Fuzzy headed blues, clear my mind with OJ and ******
Walking fast to her house, cannot wait to see her
A rap-tap on the door with thoughts of romantic enumerations
What she said and what I saw defied every one of my expectations
My innocent Belle, with her cheeks rosy red,
looks me in the eyes, and wishes I was dead
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 7:08 AM UTC
Why can't we all just get along?
Maybe if we all just hit a ****
Bhatiboys, bald heads, reggae mons too
Open your minds, and see what JAH can do
Rioters and looters fighting with cops
Roll up some ****** and the violence stops
Terrorist blowing up the middle east
Some Afghan kush would bring them all peace
If Escobar sold **** not ***** cocaina
Then the whole world would be a lot greena
We are all JAH's children, so lets all get along
Maybe we could, if we all ripped a ****
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 9:19 PM UTC
i smoke the ****** people take a wiff
i cant tie ma shoes but i can *** yo *****
i walk that streets wit my boombastic reggae styl
we go to ma doops bungaloo and he says *** and stay a while
we find some bittys wit a fat *** and tell them theat they fine
they say we're creeps witout jobs we say they need some wine
turns out they werent down to *** like an assembly line
tired i go home down tha empty reggae street
i light tha **** i light tha spliff till i cannot feel my feet
a car puls up i drop my cup they say to get in the backseat
im ****** about the cup it had my last brew and i want to drop a **
i owe them money i have none they brake ma kneecaps what fun
they throw me out the car, away i scurry
she got a big ***** so i call her big *****
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
she posts her credentials
privately, to just you,
in the din of a currently popular
university barroom
and you dressed in your
pick up best,
plumes of all male grinning,
reeking in thinking -
oh yeah!
va va voom,
lucky
laughs and liquor,
cheap 3.2 Ohio beers on tap,
come super highway fast via
as my finger flick be wagging
to an attentive bartender
who recognizes,
a new venture worth
his investing in a newly forming
gene pool of the
collegial world of what you children
can google as
The Sixities
you see, she says,
she is minor famous,
had two minutes in a movie
called Woodstock,
instantly recalled distinctively,
which you honor with
a dozen roses rising of
very cool
and a few daisies of
wow
so young,
she's hitch hiking thru life,
karma, ying and yang, Sagittarius and
Hesse's Siddharta,
a little ****** break out back,
our lives have intersected in
Cleveland in 1969,
and there is no question unanswered,
your bed, is her bed,
this night
you puzzle yourself,
memory recycler,
why in 2015,
you celebrate a one stand,
a single strand
excavated from
the meta data of your brain
tonight,
from among a hundred lifetimes previous
*Why Woodstock Woman Wonder
and you do,
why, wonder,
have you stayed with me so long,
that your face is indelible tattooed,
easy extracted from ancient cells
risen by this
dawn's early light?*
are you pining old man,
are you dying old man,
trying to write it all down
before the insurance company
grumpily has to pay up?
this carefree woman, no,
young forever girl,
looking up to you
asking where can she crash tonight,
answered in a single guttural
exclamation sensation,
with me babe,
with me baby
fifty years later,
crashing you,
crashing with you,
with roses and daisies that never died
wonder where she is today,
a grandmother multiple,
or sleeping gone from an overdose
of stuff you occasionally fooled around with,
or are you spending another night
in your tripping life,
with another
one night man*
no answers given,
but it is, it was,
a single dot on the trail of dots and dashes,
the existential Camus moments of
of two ordinaries that intersected,
however briefly,
and you wonder,
not why, but if,
*Woodstock Woman,
do you remember me?
I need you to,
I want you to,
explain better
why we are crashing together
one more time*
~~~
August 20, 2015
5:32am
nyc
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
So what if they smoke *** So what if they are different?
I love hippies, I respect them. It's just my way of seeing things.
It's not going to help to build walls, every bump in the road,
If you do score some ****** madness, you may ignore this message,
I will love you just the same! But of course I'm there down below,
Filthy with the animals, you look down on me and shame,
You're quite the "pure hearted" one for which we all must change,
So if I were like you-which by now I should already be-I'll take a puff
Of hippy kindness so my breath wont make you have to leave.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
I pried the Words off the Wall
Rearranged and used them All
Stacked upon each other in
A sentence Said with Style
Coco Chanel And Ert'e Flaunt
Lesbian Fashion In chic Paris Haunts,
In the 1920s, While Albert Camus
Late Night Parties Extistentialist Claims
*Amid ****** and Champage*
Django Rienhardt Played Jazz Guitar
To the West Bank Artists in Bars,
Toulouse Lautrec had Drank
With Prostitutes, in Art Deco
Frank Loyd Wright Praised
In Architect Circles
How He has Designed
The Unfolding of the Future
The Camera Has Brought
Sharp Images to see
While emergence of Psychology
Has driven Art into the Abstract
Paris in the 20's scent of
Hedonist Creativity
Cultural Gravity
To the Inclined
De rien, entre amis
Prende un jour a la fois
All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC
For Ricky*
Ricky Williams, Miami Running Back (2002-2003, 2005)
When the news broke and the camera pointed at a torn tent
on the outskirts of Miami where you sat knees-up-to-chest
professing enlightenment, the football world sacked itself
wondering how good your *** really was. Must have been
growing straight from Buddha’s back yard because to give
up 16 million like that, to go from bachelor pad demigod
to hippy hero of the pimply *** smokers, requires some
kind of unfathomable spirituality. I wonder if the Sadhu
could even find a desk big enough for your frame. All 230 pounds
lurching forward with brittle bones towards some kind
of endzone sanctity not represented by a smiling porpoise
but a transcendent 1st and ten where maybe you’d be happy.
After your final game I imagined you’d do what so many
washed up athletes do: find meaning in the parking lot
of a used car palace or open up a Dairy Queen, maybe
join your kids PTA and tell fourth graders stories that
you now half-believe. I didn’t think it be like this: you smoking
****** under a mauled tarpaulin, brushing fly’s away from
dingy dredlocks, running forward, exasperatedly free,
while a nation wonders why you’ve failed us.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 10:03 AM UTC
the Beats high on Benzedrine
wandering the upper west side
before there was an Upper West
Side; following the jazz to the
heat; scouting Times Square [& runaways]
for H & down to the Village; where pale
women w/ accents pick up strange
colored dudes on St. Marks Place,
dancing to hiphop; bobbysoxers
transition from Swing to Rock-and-Roll;
becoming universal Harlem hipsters
from anywhere on the globe; she,
a Japanese painter & body artist;
what bebop was to the beats; hot jazz
& jumping ***** jive, ****** & H,
***** & *** ******* **** drunk;
strung out, hitchhiking; writing poetry
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 12:50 PM UTC
I crashed into the room
My eyes red from the tears
My mascara heading south
My mind away with the fairies
You rolled me up
And smoked me
Like the world
Wanted you out
Cause I am just your ******
Soon there will be another girl.
You said one minute I was happy
Next minute I’m coming down
I was never really hungry
Cause I kept you on my mouth
You stayed clean for a while
Until you needed me again
Cause I was just your ******
And you stubbed me out back then.
And a few months later
You ask me how I've been
I say I've been ******* great
Although lying is a sin
No I'm not sure if
I’ll ever see you again
Cause you moved on from your legals
Yeah you moved onto 'Mandy'.
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
Used to smoke a pack a day,
now it’s just two cigarettes
in the evening time,
when the lady is in the shower
and after the ******
has been smoked.
I sit on the ledge of our patio,
legs stretched out
Exhaling long trails of smoke.
observing
the busy apartment complex.
Mainly blacks & Mexicans
with a dash of Apache Junction
white trash.
Two girls
in their early twenties
sit on a bench in the little courtyard
talking loudly.
gesturing wildly
about some ***** neither can stand.
Purple lightning flashes overhead,
illuminating
the courtyard.
Then it begins to sprinkle
And then it starts to rain.
A woman walks down the stairs from her apartment.
She’s barefoot and smiling,
head tilted up towards the sky,
taking in deep breaths
of the good rain smell.
I imagine she’s been waiting for this.
Waiting on the rain.
In her apartment.
It’s really started coming down.
She couldn’t light her cigarette,
the rain was dropping from everywhere.
Two children
run and skip down the sidewalk
with their mother running close behind.
Her arms, both of them,
full of mail, grocery bags, and a baby,
yellin at her kids,
“hurry, hurry, hurry up. C’mon, the mail is getting wet and I got Netflix
here, ********* move your *****
A man in a motorized wheelchair
Emerges from one of the halls
across the courtyard.
I watch his electric chair
buzz by on the sidewalk.
He was going for a full lap
of the place it seemed.
When he passed me, I saw
droplets of rain
breaking on his face and streaming down.
Grinning ear to ear
he winked one eye at me.
made me smile.
This is Arizona.
Rain in the summer is a gift.
Means a lot to us. All of us
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 1:00 PM UTC
I'd grab a knife and let it tear through my flesh
to rip out this inner strife if it wouldn't lead to my death.
My soul shivers he beats on his chest in fact that's why I breathe
on this ****** to try and relax. My mind is stretched to the max
my head needs to detach, my soul needs to eject.
Hotheaded armed with an icepick.
Hacking away at this ice that my spine grips.
My thoughts are confined in a space as small as my iris
and I'm behind iron bars of anxiety that I constantly have to fight with.
I've become a mass murderer, locked in a psychiatric ward as I **** my parts within, erasing my kin, the ink from the teardrops darkens my skin.
Fallen to sin. My world in the dark. A void shaped like a heart.
Yet this Tinman retaliates against the wizard of Oz!
My torch an everburning question mark
answers? That's the past but Life throwing hooks so I HAVE to dodge.
Hits exit Pause-my-world which I create so I can spit back in the face of God!
You awoke a sleeping giant, a savage beast, a lion
My soul roars everytime you see me sighin
I won't ignore these tidings
A frozen force is rising
Close to war my broken core redefines defiance.
So I will stand my ground and fight
go bar for bar with life.
Proudly wear these battlescars
you'll be astounded by my might
A star upon my sky
My reach is long and wide
You see I'm strong you're weak and wrong
I no longer hide
Because I don't have a mind
I am guided by the light
my sight set on my rage
replace my blood with hate
bleed and rust and easily crush
this tyrant in my cage.
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC