Sinsemilla was her name, the bitch was hazy, drove men insane

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.

weed poem

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.

weed poem

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.

weed poem

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.

(c) Angrybud.com

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Robert Burns’ Heritage To Touch The Cannabis Culture

The Scottish Bard, he often claimed himself, the patriotic artist of Romantic Epoch — What if Robert Burns were smoking cannabis, rather than drinking? Heh! What if his famous poem praising Scotch Whiskey were about the green fairy Mary Jane, the HERB?

That got the editors here at Angrybud.com thinking about how to “copy” the old English ballad “John Barleycorn”, once collected by Robert Burns in 1782, about the goodness of Scotch Whiskey where the imagined 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 taste buds. That’s Whiskey! Mmm! Yummi!

So we reached out to a poet to breath some new life into the more than 230-years-old masterpiece of Robert Burns, instead illustrating the life cycle of the cannabis seed which is surviving the modern growing technology to become one day a WEED we all love. And of course it’s a she, the Mary Jane, the female cannabis plant. Well now, sit back, relax and take a look at the entertaining work-of-art below:

Cannabis Poem “Mary Jane”

Brendon J. O-Brien has created this MARY JANE Marijuana Poem exclusively for Angrybud.com

by Brendon J. O’Brien, (c) Angrybud.com 2018

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.

This one has been created exclusively for our website by the talented poet from Trinidad, from West Indies, a paradise island lying in the Caribbean. Visit his website to discover more of his breathtaking art by this link: www.brendonjobrien.com