PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

She called me a slutty pot head.

At my protest, she said,

“If yer gonna turn it into an outpouring of pain,
I’m sorry man.”

I said,

“That kinda reminds me of that slug
 that was sittin on the porch eyeballing me earlier.

Kit said,

“Exchange the G for  a T and you have slut.”

Check 2 Check

4:20

When he asked where I was,

She said,

“She’s being a humming bird

At the social honey hole.

That’s our Jessica.”

A slut, I guess.

But that’s not true.

I’m shy.

I just walked around alone for a while.

And bought a lighter.

And a sticker for my friend.

Both “Ganga Girls.”

Okay,so maybe I like slutty things…

But they’re not slutty.

It’s not like I’m goin around kissin a bunch of people.

I’m really just sitting alone.

Writing poetry.

I look around once in a while.

To see if there’s anything interesting going on.

And All of it is, really.

So, I’m gonna put down this pen and participate.

Go relate…

Like the slutty pot head she said I am.

Okay, maybe not, I’ll just sit here with my pen.

Oh, I’m on the other side of the bag now.

I passed a pipe back to a man and he railed me,

For tryin to pass it to another man.

He said, “It’s a girl thing.”

“The guys can go get their own.”

He said, after a while,

“It’s your hit.

By the way, what’s your name?”

I said, Jessica

He said, Clyde, nice to meet you.

He told me this was probably the last one.

(He was referring to the gathering.)

Then he asked me where I worked.

And I told him.

He told me he doesn’t normally talk to people who have jobs.

Or people who bowl.

I told him, I call my job 'the nipple'.

Does that make me a slutty pot head?

I think not.

I think it means I am open to communicate with other beings.

Other souls…

I am full of love and wonder of the world.

And being here makes me feel... gratitude.

Hi, I’m Jessica.

Can I hang around with you for a while.

Hear your stories?

I really do want to connect.

I’m quite certain you will inspire me in some shape or form.

And I promise I will share my heart with you.

If you just allow me to.

And share your heart with mine.

I promise, I’ll try to inspire you.

So, the first person I talk to outside of my perch,

Was a woman at the john.

We discussed our abilities to squat.

And a man came between a conversation.

That sounded pretty…

um… slutty.

It made me laugh.

The conversation was really about me

Getting up and reading.

You see, he had warned me not to get up there.

Told me you all were a tough crowd.

But I couldn’t help but come on up and share.

This place as I understand it,

Is all the colors come together.

And this is where I want to be.

Choose to be.

With all the colors of the rainbow.

It’s beautiful to be here.

With the souls.

Those who know…

We are all part of the same family.

I met a man named Will.

He gave me a gift of two joints.

And a card.

Invited me to read poetry on his tv show…

Or radio, I’m not exactly sure.

But, I’d have to write something new.

I think I’m up for the challenge.

Onto Lynk... in the top hat.

Then I realize that I left my friend stranded.

So I sat back down.

Then I met Jack.

(Actually, I met Rose first.)

Listening to him, made me want to write from my political mind.

But I’m detached from politics.

I needed to step away from the way it made me feel inside.

Nevertheless, Awakened.

By communicating with other beings.

Yes, I am that humming bird.

Fluttering around spreading joyful energy.

For that is my gift to you.

All of you beautiful human beings.

You inspire me to create.

And I hope I can inspire you too.

I love you all.

Even all of you I have not met.

No, it’s not just the weed talking.

It’s all about peace, and love, and healing.

No, not a slutty pot head.

A lover of human kind.

All people.

All colors.

All states of grace.

I love you all.

Thanks for listening.