well, i figured nobody else is gonna fucking get around to it,
i may as well...
*grin*
the lady i love
smokes a joint so lingeringly,
profoundly,
that the act is laced
with the scent of sacred.
the lady i love
will lovingly finger the filter
as she sinks into her stories,
interrupting herself mid-tangent
to sigh
and thank you for the pot,
and lovingly hand
the mummy finger back to you.
the lady i love
likes to breathe deep
her own personal agni's sweet prayers,
so deep, she will have to close
her lascivious-lashed lids
while her world becomes painted black
for a second,
sometimes two.
the lady i love
is a compassionate diva,
floating on treasures,
the perfume of the west.
3 comments:
Try saying this three times fast:
lascivious-lashed lids
lascivious-lashed lids
lascivious-lashed lids
I give up! If you can't beat 'em, lick 'em... and lick 'em good!
Love,
Woxo the Magnificent
One gets creative under the influence of Pot...
at least I did. great poem.
Jeremy
ah Colin come on - surely you can perform this minor feat with your tongue
...and then some!?
(batting her eyelashes oh so innocently)
and hey Jeremy, thanks! i actually did a wee investigation of how my writing was different when i'm straight, drunk, high or drunk and high. not all that different, but there were subtle differences. intriguing. a friend suggested i try to shape my writing that way. example "i want to write something really gut-wrenching, so 2 parts whiskey, 1 part pot." i haven't tried it, but i thought it was a funny idea!
Post a Comment