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Cipher_O posted an update
4 weeks ago (edited)
Sour D
I
Twas the best of times/worst of times. Something like
fucked up/allowing myself to fall into a slump. What the
fuck is up. Get the fuck up and keep writing. Each day
and each night/such sights in the sight seeing of the
scene of this modern – modern machine. [Tis strange]. I
have become a seed breeder.
Ganja mon.
I need me some poet’s magical herb.
Motherfuckin ganja is legal in my state, Michigan. They
said it would never happen. Literally. And who could
blame them for their thinking? Our forefathers did years
for cannabis seeds and roaches. Folks asleep in the car,
waking to a flashlight illuminating a roach or a seed, a
cell door mechanically closing.
II
Basically, I was born on probation. On papers.
I suppose I was rebellious, perhaps.
[Twas the writing. Twas all the writing. I did it for the
writing.]
On probation you must take regular drug tests.
And I was pissing plants, the night before, indulging
in some sweet Mary Jane.
I, being an over achiever, would guzzle fuckin milk
jugs of water, back to back to back to back.
Just how I like to smoke.
A brute force attack. Worked every time.
[I didn’t trust the drink from the head shop. I had
to pass the test, or do anything else I set my mind
to.]
Well… That day I pissed dirty
III
I had a feeling this would happen and almost
just went on the run…
[When on probation, pulling the plug and
just goin on the run is always an option.]
Even sitting in the Probation Office, I
thought about running out of the office and
saying:
Catch me if you can.
[Tis strange… It is in these times where one
feels the most free.]
IV
I ended up goin to jail, a bladder full of urine,
the whole ride to the county jail, out in the
sticks.
… Standing in the processing area, surrounded
by plexi glass holding tanks, actually empty for
the first time I ever seen…
“Excuse me officer. I have to urinate real
horrorshow. Might I use the lavatory.” I perhaps
said.
A stream of urine, down brand new jeans. [I
always mess up new things, for example, always
very quickly get new shoes wet.]
Those jeans went in a property tote, for the
duration of what was, I believe, ninety days..?
V
I came out and it was another season…
But at the processing, following the completion
of my sentence, the guard…
He was talking about something, which brought
to mind the looming vote for medical
marijuana in our state, and I mentioned
that over 50% of Michiganders approved.
He said. “It will never happen.” As my tote,
with my piss stained jeans and stale cigarettes
arrived.
I said. “Well… If it does pass. I will thank
you for saying: Never.”
VI
Pertaining to my state, they say: Come on vacation
leave on probation.
[Our people fought so many wars against the cops
and the government.]
Fought for the right to exist.
I feel like civilization has been built upon a
mountain of skulls.
My father. His father.
VII
“A embarrassment of riches.”
That is what National Geographic called
cannabis.
A true craft element.
I decided to become an alchemist of cannabis
hash and seeds.
In a wild west like open cosmos of stars
and possibility.
The empowerment of producing ones
own medicine.
VIII
That is what I was gonna say about the cops…
I was recently thinking about the idea of
power corrupting…
Thinking how power is an illusion, from
a certain perspective…
Thinking about “the perception of power”.
As, from a certain perspective, everything
is merely perception.
May we never-ever lose our souls.
IX
There are so many legendary missions in
the cannabis industry, from hippies smuggling
seeds across the silk road, to home growers
all across the world, participating in the
evolution of this Plant Teacher.
Partnerships with nature, made. Flesh to
spirit – Spirit to flesh.
Like the poet.
X
I got my hands on 3 packs of:
Sour Diesel IBL.
XI
I am going to do an epic open pollination,
upon the winds of chaos.
Rolling the poetic dice-nice.
***
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