The Scottish Bard, he claimed himself, and the patriotic artist of the Romantic Epoch — What if Robert Burns were smoking cannabis, rather than drinking? What if his famous poem praising Scotch Whisky were about the green fairy Mary Jane, the HERB?
That got the editorial thinking about how to “mimic” the old English ballad “John Barleycorn”, collected by Robert Burns in 1782, where the imaginary suffering of a personified barley crop was used to describe the process of the grain being cultivated and harvested, “tortured” in the mill, and… in the end of the hard way becoming the world’s best alcoholic drink, that brings joy to so many of our dudes. Whisky is Yum!
We reached out to a poet to breath a new life into the 230-years-old masterpiece of Robert Burns, instead of barley, our poet illustrated the humble life of a cannabis seed which is the starting point of home growing technics making way from seed to WEEEED we all love. Of course it’s a she, the Mary Jane female cannabis plant.
Sit back, relax and enjoy the work-of-art we proudly present, here it is:
Cannabis Poem “Mary Jane”
by Brendon J. O’Brien, (c) Angrybud.com
When Mary Jane had come of age,
Those ‘round her began to creep.
They plotted then to break her down
For some parts they would keep.
They looked upon her cautiously
Saw her grow dark in sun.
When sweat did glisten to their eyes
They knew their wait was done.
They waited for the very time
That Mary seemed mature.
They grabbed her in the open field,
Held lightly but made sure.
They checked her well and were convinced
That Mary Jane had grown,
Was strong and sweet and swollen enough
For them to call their own
Before poor Mary Jane could move
They broke off every limb
When that was done, they dragged her down
To a place much more grim.
Those men, they hung her bottom-up,
They left her there for days,
In the dry dark, till she might crack,
Till Mary’s light did fade.
They took her down, they pulled her close,
Took blade from head to shin
To cut whatever blemish clean,
Leave only Mary’s skin.
And from her skin came many things
When boiled and kept as drips,
Or ground up fine, and wrapped up tight,
And lit to someone’s lips.
Some men would use the girl’s remains
To hear some divine word.
Some others still took of her skin
Till awareness gleefully blurred.
Some look upon the men
Who did these things will such despair.
No one should use poor Mary’s body
Those people would declare
But some need Mary’s body
For much more urgent gain;
To calm their addled minds a while
Or free them from their pain.
From Mary’s sacrifice
Some people do regain control
From illnesses stealing bodies
Or addictions claiming souls.
Some say what happened to the girl
Is vicious, inhumane.
But there are lives so surely changed
By the body of Mary Jane.
Created exclusively for angrybud.com by the talented poet Brendon J. O’Brien from Trinidad and Tobago, West Indies, a tropical paradise in the Caribbean.
Happy new year y’al, canna fams! Find the fresh Growing Tricks below in this page, scroll it down, and here is also the Epic-Poetic update into our beautiful marijuana cultural collection. This is totally an expression of the holiday mood, and the obvious influence of the holiday buds becoming more and more legal around USA (we congratulate Illinois, new law in effect since 1st of January) and all around the world following the American lead.
Enjoy your stuff and enjoy the poetry
THE LIGHTER (cannabis poem, by Angrybud.com, 2020)
María Juana your charms make inspire,
And capture my soul with care tho higher,
But ah! Can’t imagine how stupid was me:
Don’t know where’s the LIGHTER, but know where are we.
And another very special one, and a very seasonal piece, for the roaring winter yet the frosty nugs! when many growers in the Northern Hemisphere, in Europe and USA, those enjoying outdoor growing another half a year, are now forced to hide the plants into tents under the artificial sun shine, that is indoors!
INDOORS (cannabis poem, by Angrybud.com, 2020)
When braving angry winter storms,
The grow tent we raise,
Far in the shade my Gem will spend
Her first 12 hour night,
Away from eyes Eternal Light
Shall warm her body then,
The tyrant Death shall cut her roots,
When Amber says: she’s well.
Yass, the dope was good, so was NY celebration! All best to y’al canna folks!
For the indoor growing herein below are the presents from Canna Santa, no words, all is clear. That is how to optimize the space issue for indoor weed growing, to let your baby grow well in a lower tent —
Reduce the Height of Cannabis Plant to fit a grow tent (Easy Engineereing Solution)
No words, watch the pictures from the cannabis community in twitter: very special thanks to our twitter mate Tim for the solution demonstrated. It’s genious! We call it “Engineering solution”. Easy!
Reduce the Height of Cannabis Plant to fit a grow tent (Beautiful Artistic Solution)
Feel it’s not enough? Want more art than Engineering? Okay! Here we go another solution — only look at it, it’s dope! and so artistic, and we call it “Artistic solution”! Suggested by the Coffeeshop_Guru. Only fantasy may limit the shape of such, hahaha!
How to cook weed? Get the free cookbook + tutorial app
NB! trendin’s motivational calc was a temporary toy demonstrating the ways of gamification of social posts and comments, and it is now devisualized out from this page; if you miss it too much or want the script or its code or whatever purpose always a pleasure if you contact us
Yet another weed poem by another artist, and it starts appearing like if we collect online literature, and this is a new entry to the marijuana poetry collection. The author however used the spelling SENSIMILIA while we’ve changed it to SINSEMILLA (from Spanish “sin semilla” which is translated as “without seeds”) and here is the text of our new wonderful piece of new-age poetry. Enjoy the reading!
Sinsemilla was her name… The Weed Poem
SINSEMILLA was her name,
the bitch was hazy, drove men insane!
Or so they thought, these men of Grey,
whom never smoked a little hay.
But the fever’s come their way,
they try to kill her, everyday.
But Sensimilia was her name,
she spoke of truth in every say.
And so the Grey, they tried their way,
but never manage her to slay.
Until one day, when she slipped up,
and then the Grey got her by the gut.
And now her children’s with the Grey,
and they all smoke them every day.
And what they Grey, know not,
it’s of what kids, the woman got.
And now this day the Lion’s come,
upon a boat, straight from Zion.
But SINSEMILLA is her name,
the bitch is hazy, drives you insane!
And now all smoke her every day,
and praise as medicine in every say.
While SINSEMILLA grows strong,
and gives to all of us BIG BONGS.
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