Blunt Mary Jane

Blunt Chun li 
On sticky Lady Lean 
Leaning on the altars of skulls 
Men of impulse 
Looking so lean and mean 
Like Idi Amin 
On billows of cloud and loud, watch as we cruise 
Bruise Li 
In battles known for its bruise, 
And abuse 
We fight and light up 
Space men! 
Strolling through the galaxies of uncharted universe 
Pitching tents on perfumed paradise 
Like loaded dice, we bounce through the confines 
They say we are the societal vices 
We are the street spices 
With us the brain needs no ice 
We are the eyes 
We are the highs 
Say hi to those men called guys 
Men in glazed guise!

Caribbean blues 
Mary Jane and her clues 
Charting course through the clueless days 
Raise your banner of praize 
Look through the maze 
What do you see? 
Glues and sticky dues 
Debts paid in the white halls of highness, new dept 
Storms, lightening and thunders 
Brains struck with greens flashes of T. H. C 
-ticket. to higher. clouds.

Alas! Steve still wonders 
Why men still smoke science labs 
And thick tars 
Hanging on the guillotine of smoke 
Dangling under the weights of a choke 
Checking your calendar, look for your date 
Li keep you up-to-date 
On a ride of a lifetime, discard your hate 
Take a leap with faith,with fate 
Light that joint and dilute with cigarette 
This is not a journey for Alice to wander around in 
This is not a wonderland for the faint hearted 
This is not where you begin what you have not started 
Here is where the courses are charted.

Breaking news! 
He wore his helmet to sleep 
Praying he never crashes 
At the lion’s gate I felt the decay 
Arms tattooed with rashes 
After burning the ashes 
Patches of wet matches burning the lungs 
In unsteady terrain we hung 
Cheap pills lying about, 
Trams and Roaches 
Stinking of gay 
Mouth clamped to the thick thighs of highs 
Blowing her on the walls of ecstasy 
Clouds dotting his fantasy 
Blunt Chun li 
Poachers on Marley’s balcony 
On gateways of honey 
Known for it’s bittersweet 
Men on the street 
Strictly on swift and indescreet deciets 
Li men!

Blow the pom-pom 
Vape with the clouds 
Surf through the skies, 
Bad guys, on high fives 
King kongs! 
Herbal men, 
On green drugs and under the rugs of ecstasy 
In chains we hug the walls of our limit 
Eyes glazed over as if in a trance 
Climbers jumping through the Effiel tower of France 
Each tuned into the frequency they frequent 
Like the Indians, we are kings of spice and mine 
Lighting up fuse and burn down bunks 
In nuggets of borrowed intellect we are drunks 
Don’t mistakes our stagger, we are just stoned 
With spirits atoned 
Mayors to the grand cities of Opia, 
We are the missing chunk of apple in your iPhone 
We are the wisest of men 
Our brain drips of patched up memories 
We write things never thought of 
We are what dreams are made of 
Some think they have landed but they never knew when we took off.

Chun Li 
The high men, the sea men 
Tea men on a diet, may we not die yet 
Like captains we are called Jacks 
Sailing through the rugged tides 
like sailors of courage 
Freemen that finally came of age 
Sensei the sage! 
Unchained from the clutches of self 
We grasp wisdom from the top shelf 
We are the new chef 
Cooking thoughts that operate in the supernatural 
If they strip us of the super, we are still natural 
Dreaming dreams so glean and clean 
We are nature’s green 
Fertile men! 
Toast to us, we are the grass made of class.


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