There is an herb for every kind of sickness but not for death.
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Smokin The Herb Again
Yo yo yo, yo, yo yo what
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Damn, I really wish I could find my sack man
Must have got eaten by pac-man
If I had it I could smoke again
Smoke with my friends to the very end
But now Im trying to comprehend
Whens the next time that Ill smoke again
I need to know, please tell when will we smoke again
I got a buddy, his name is ted
Hes got a problem going through his head
He doesnt know how to puff puff give
But I like so Ill teach him and Ill let him live
Everyday we teach him right
When he divides, we have to fight
But at the end of the trying day
We says its ok and we puff away
Just the other night, I saw you, you were smokin not sharing and being tight
But thats ok, you are my friend, well smoking until the very end
The lessons that we put out, we order you to try it out
Its nice to smoke, yea thats what were all about
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Hey, ho, hey ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho, hey, ho
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking everywhere
I smoke, you smoke, we smoke, they smoke, smoking all together
Smoking
Were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
Were smoking, were smoking, were smoking the herb again
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bitter Herb
O bitter herb, Forgetfulness,
I search for you in vain;
You are the only growing thing
Can take away my pain.
When I was young, this bitter herb
Grew wild on every hill;
I should have plucked a store of it,
And kept it by me still.
I hunt through all the meadows
Where once I wandered free,
But the rare herb, Forgetfulness,
It hides away from me.
O bitter herb, Forgetfulness,
Where is your drowsy breath?
Oh, can it be your seed has blown
Far as the Vales of Death?
poem by Jeanne Robert Foster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On George Herbert's Poems
WHAT are these leaves dark-spotted and acerb?
'A very holy herb.'
To what good use may I this herb convert?
'Press it on thy soul's hurt.'
When herb unto the hurt I thus apply?
'Herb-ert is sanctity.'
poem by James Thomson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Life Is Fast
Life has death due to sickness,
Ephemeral life contains death at the end
Of sickness.
Dulcet living spreads with a dalliance,
Forcing me and others to die.
I mean eloquence rules, and life rules death,
Always forgetting bubbles of dishonour.
A comely idea springs to the foreground
With stately appearance, not like lagoons
But like topaz, or diamonds, or rubies all-red.
An ineffable pride, slung on your back,
Creeps up more, and more, and more.
Life has turned into death as fast as the soul.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kind of Death
This is no
Sweet “carried off by angels”
At the age of 90
Kind of death.
No
“go gently into that goodnight”
at the age of 70
Kind of death.
This is
A fight to the bitter end,
Struggling for breathe
Kind of death.
Young wife screaming in the corridor,
Mother’s tears washing my face,
No damn joking,
Cancer choking
Unfair death at 30
Kind of death.
poem by Sallie Howson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whos Got The Herb?
Whos got the herb
2 for 1, 5 for 4, half ounces
Quarter pounds, lbs and kilos
What are we looking for
Sinsemilla
What are we hoping for
What are we hoping for
Sinsemilla
Whos got the herb is what the young boys ask me
Whos got the herb and then elders tell me
Whos got the herb is what the young girls ask me
Whos got the herb not thee dread-locks
Skunk, bud, indica
Sativa, my reefer, la arriba
Skunk, bud, indica
Sativa, my reefer, la arriba
When we roll a big one
It feels so right
When we smoke it in our bong
It feels so nice
Whos got the herb is what the young boys ask me
Whos got the herb and then the elders tell me
Whos got the herb is what the young girls ask me
Whos get the herb not thee dread-locks
Whos got the herb
Whos got the herb
Whos got the herb
Whos got the herb what Im talkin bout
Cramacaca cayaca die shocka fryaca
From a coppa yes Im tellin you
Cramacaca cayaca die shocka fryaca
From a coppa
What are we looking for
Sinsemilla
What are we hoping for
Sinsemilla
Here we go!
Skunk, bud, indica
Sativa, my reefer, my reefer
Whos got it whos got the herb
Whos got it whos got the herb
311 whoa whos got the herb
311s got the herb and you cant avoid that
And ya do want your hands with a fat blunt sack
Chill with indica and guiness, steer clear of white powder
Kick it you sing it in a space, go out to play it louder
Plague my brain with no cocaine
I dont wanna, I dont wanna go insane
Roll up the bones if you can affix a word to smoke it
Except for youre doomed in the morning if you bake the hills
Oh and I get up to the sun and then I smoke out
Its begining to smell like mota and Im down with no doubt, sing
Plague my brain with no cocaine
I dont wanna, I dont wanna go insane
If you want to harm the
World then you can stop the
Herb and you can use the
Serve and use the warrant.
song performed by by 311
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Criminal Kind
You got a criminal mind, you got criminal looks
Boy you better look out, youre gonna get hooked
Dont you ever feel guilty when you come up short
Man you better be careful, youre gonna get caught
cause youre the criminal kind, youre the criminal kind
Man what you gonna do? where you gonna hide?
Theyre callin you a sickness, disease of the mind
Man what you go nna do? youre the criminal kind
Dont you ever get tired? dont you ever wanna quit?
Yeah its been a long time, and you still dont fit
Dog tags on the mirror, hangin down from a chain
Give up little sister, this aint gonna change
cause youre the criminal kind, youre the criminal kind
Man what you gonna do? where you gonna hide?
Theyre callin you a sickness, disease of the mind
Man what you gonna do? youre the criminal kind
Yeah, and that little girl you used to know
Just dont come around no more
Now she aint there to watch the door
She dont wanna die in no liquor store
I hope they all made money, I hope they all get rich
Yeah, I hope they give hell, to every son of a bitc h
That put a man on the carpet
Or struck him out on the line
Whoever let him get a taste of the criminal life
cause youre the criminal kind, youre the criminal kind
Man what you gonna do? where you gonna hide?
Theyre calli n you a sickness, disease of the mind
Man what you gonna do? youre the criminal kind
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Guest Is 'Trouble
There is a guest and a host
child and servant,
eternity and vanity,
The guest is trouble.
In sickness, health is the host
he gives way to sickness
that the power of truth is depicted
the guest is 'trouble'
In pain, comfort is the host
who concedes the pain
that the vanity of darkness is depicted
the guest is 'trouble'
In death, life is the host
who gives way to death
that the power of resurrection is shown
the guest is 'trouble'
Life is eternal, death is a moment.
health is a fruit, sickness is a leaf
that falls from a tree of life.
They soon wither and waste away.
Be strong, it's not too long
the guest will leave.
and the host will have it all
The guest is 'trouble'
poem by Timothy muggaga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sickness II
I am sick lying on your hospital bed,
So you can play with my nakedness if you want to;
Because this is the only time that you can see my nakedness!
For this sickness had made it possible.
Sickness, oh sickness! !
Sickness had made it possible for you to see my nakedness;
If not, you can't even smell my sight at anytime.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Early Morning Verse
Peace I leave with you;
my peace I give to you.
(as i read these lines
i am chewing my new medicine
a black herb so bitter to my tongue
to be swallowed when finally
liquefied)
do you know the sickness of the mind
of the poet out there? Just like you
he is looking for the cure, the madness
to be well again.
it is not the score of the hour
it is the easing of the pain.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Death Again
It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There grows not the herb, which can protect against the power of death.
The superior doctor prevents sickness;/ The mediocre doctor attends to impending sickness;/ The inferior doctor treats actual sickness.
The superior doctor prevents sickness; The mediocre doctor attends to impending sickness; The inferior doctor treats actual sickness.
With Sickness Comes Sadness
WITH SICKNESS COMES SADNESS
With sickness comes sadness
Will one ever escape?
The hurt of life
Hurts more deeply
Each day.
Sickness is sadness-
And I am afraid-
Will I ever be,
Healthy and Happy,
Again?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As all of us with any involvement in sports knows, no two umpires or no two referees have the same strike zone or call the same kind of a basketball game.
Strange Sickness.
You are the reason for my illness,
You are the remedy for my sickness,
The strange sickness attacks me,
By increasing my heart's rhythm,
Giddiness in the head,
Palpitation at the chest,
Loss of appetite and
Scores of other symptoms,
Feeling quite hot when you are far,
Feeling strange when you are near,
All people seem to be happy and smile,
When you hold my hands,
Everyone seem to be sad and cry,
When you go away from me,
What sickness is this so strange,
That is induced by you?
What sickness is this so unique,
That is cleared by you?
You are the reason for me to be awkward,
Giggle at my mother when she scolds,
You are the reason for me to be childish,
When my father checks my progress,
You are the reason for me to flunk,
Two three subjects all of a sudden,
I am not ashamed of that failure, my love,
As long as you are the cause,
And the remedy for my sickness..
Something in you causes this!
Something in you clears this!
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life and Death, How Ironic
Life, it described my Mother
Life, she was the image
Life, she was healthy
Life, she loved every day
Life, you saw it in her eyes
Life, you heard it in her voice
Life, how ironic it could be
Death, the impossible
Death, too somber a thought for her
Death, she would live a long, long time before it would confront her
Death, sickness maybe, but there is always a cure
Death, not even a thought in the doctor’s mind
Death, it now replaced life
Life and death, my mother passed away with a look of peace on her face
She died knowing that she lived every moment to the fullest.
poem by Janice Karp
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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