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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/29/2007 10:02:14 AM | Hemp Rap by Jeri Rose
We live in a world
That runs on gas,
and gas comes from oil--
Live stuff in the past.
A Past longer ago
than people on the earth
and as oil gets scarce,
it goes up in worth.
When oil is burned,
it pollutes the air.
If breathing is hard,
You'd better care.
But we've got to keep going,
that's what they say,
We can't stop burning,
Fuel is our way.
Ford made the first car,
it was a Model T,
He didn't use gas,
that stuff's too dirty.
Then what did he use?
You'd better know,
His fuel came from hemp,
that's a plant quick to grow.
In a few months it grows
Twenty feet tall,
to the earth it does
Nothing bad at all.
It was the first plant
that people grew,
For rope, food, fuel, medicine,
that's all they knew.
Later folks wanted
to write stuff down,
Hemp made good paper
that's what they found.
Now we make paper
from slow growing trees,
When I tell you the reason
you'll sink to your knees.
A man owned a forest
named William R. Hearst.
He owned a newspaper,
one of the worst.
If he sold his trees,
He made lots of money,
But when trees make paper,
the results aren't funny.
The water gets polluted,
We get acid rain.
Hearst didn't care
He had money to gain.
Hearst knew competition
the paper mill could not stand,
So his newspapers told a story
to get hemp banned.
In the 1930's
racism was worse.
A fact to be used
by William R. Hearst.
His yellow press claimed
Negroes are wild,
Hemp smoke made them
act real riled.
A White woman, it seems,
with a Black man had sex,
Hearst's paper screamed,
"Hemp smoke is the hex."
This drug's danger
we all had to know.
No White woman on her own,
would sink so low.
But he didn't call it hemp
Hearst was too smart,
He used a Spanish word
to set the plant apart.
So Marijuana was the name
plain old hemp was given,
Fear and loathing were the thoughts
upon which law was written.
Now alcohol destroys the liver
and that prohibition failed,
No one dares grow hemp
fearing they'll be jailed.
Yet if it were to be allowed,
Hemp could clean the air,
Save the trees, provide food,
It grows where land is bare.
Save the planet, change the law,
We haven't got much time.
Don't let greedy oil and paper barons
Scam another dime. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/29/2007 10:31:27 AM | Uzi, so sorry to hear about your loss......it gets easier I guess, but you never forget.......just that chance encounter taught me how close to the surface losing mom still was, 8 years later........
And I've been hearing an awful lot about hemp used as fuel and paper. I know the farmers have petitioned to be allowed to grow it as hemp, can't remember which state.....I just read in Thailand they are trying to grow a bush with poisonous nuts that are 30% oil, for biofuel. It was formerly used as a border plant but was basically useless......
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Facts
Destined to stay?
we spin
tiny speck
bubble universe
dying star sun
collision moon
end
began
with birth
LS 1/26/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/29/2007 11:58:48 PM | When a star shines on an Angel
For the one who touches a soul
They gift their kindness and love
For those lucky enough to know
With treasured words
That touched my heart
You are a wonderful friend
Which no time shall part
The star light shines upon you!
Thank-you from the bottom of my heart | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/30/2007 12:30:21 AM | | awww Cyn, just get better, okay? Remember, you're never really alone.... I'm hoping it turns out to be not much at all and easily remedied. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/30/2007 3:45:57 PM | this is one of my favorites.....bringing it home from Autumns' Age of Innocence....
blissful
we once knew
the secret hollows
in lilac hedges
where we played timelessly
our mothers screeching
something about supper
blissfully ignored
we once hid
in plum orchards
inadvertant fruitarians
spying on the cat
stalking about his declawed turf
we once ruled
swing challenged skies
and hung from rings
in inverted defiance
we once rode bikes
wantonly curving and chromed
enticing us around the block
just one more time
our mothers screeching
something about supper
blissfully ignored
LS 1/27/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/30/2007 4:10:05 PM | Being a saint is a whole lot of fun.
You get to look down on ‘most everyone,
wear a long face and long white gown
while you sashay round and round the town
watching the sinners grope and feel
each other up, pretending they’re happy,
pretending they’re real
just like the folks in Sodom and Gomorrah
here today and gone tomorra! | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/30/2007 5:26:32 PM | I'll take your word for it Jer, I've never come close to sainthood....when I was born, the doctor slapped me for being too knowing......
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deep hole
sadness
human indulgence
shadows me
bruise colored cloak
shovel
deeper
shovel
pity
doesn't occur
to animals
weak are eaten
injured thump along
three legged
diseased live
each fresh day
utterly
until
they die
LS 3/30/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/30/2007 7:54:56 PM | Our cat still hasn’t figured out
That cat food comes laced with rat poison
When I discovered the truth of the matter
Our poor dear Tiffany just tolerated
The extra kisses and fondling, gushing display
Of total lunacy
Never suspecting that we would have
Bought her a treat so deadly
She gives me that look of hers when I come
In the door
Where the hell is my foil, my addiction?
With tasty chunks and gravy
Has this world gone mad?
Humans have lost their sense of decency
Forgetting their poor cats
No bags, no treats, just love
Sometimes in life we do what we think is best
In spite of those glares and the odd chomp we get. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/30/2007 8:55:00 PM | yeah, fortunately I was feeding my dogs the little bites dry from Pedigree. I do give them that cheeseburger stuff but it's like kibbles, no gravy. Now I'm worried about the cats, they like Special Kitty dry....
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where childhood began
where childhood began
a tiny house
set back on a lot
with my divorced mother
and baby sister
and a siamese cat
a plum orchard
going to the fair
in matching dresses
a kind old couple next door
a lilac hedge
a brand new red bike
with training wheels
and streamers
pizza at The Idle Hour
on Friday night
and three new dresses
from Sears
LS 1/30/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/30/2007 9:35:14 PM | I thought Commander Taco
was a funny surname
with garbled texts
spicy meat just the same
hemp hurds a funnier name
all day and fire proof
waterproof and three times as
strong as a red bull
a technique
similar to the walls with
hemp house that he cites
a weed timber
frame is filled with demand for
a conservation specialist who once
thought clearly
a mountain top expereince
to say the least
as plastics flowed with toxins
til the water turned to toast
upwards of crystallizing the cost
coast to coast
built the process
fiber reinforced hyraulic lime
called by any other name
Isochanvre
ca va sans dire
hempcrete is so dear
don't live in isolation
this product has
superior coating and conservation | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/30/2007 10:25:54 PM | Pooh, as in Pooh bear, or poo as in sh!t?......either way, yes, it does rhyme....welcome to the thread......
yellow is the hue of pooh
eeyore is the one that's blue
disposition matches coat
eeyores gloomy in every quote
paradoxically its funny
pooh's outlook is very sunny 
yanno here in meth central, (the heartland) the desperate would probably try to burn that guys hemp house to get high....... | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/31/2007 10:36:42 PM | Never Was
never been the princess
never worn the white dress
of purity
or two months salary
of trust and expectation
on the finger
whose pathway leads
to the heart
I tried to remember
how I became married
Oh, I recalled
the hasty planning
marriage one more task
ticked off on the road
to parenthood
between the organist and preacher
I don't recall
being asked
proof of belief
you placed trust
in my ability and honor
enough to be my partner
I fell into marriage
and it took me away
and that became
metaphor for our life
you calling the shots
and sinking the balls
me cleaning the rest
of the table
neither questioning
the score
You asked me
for partnership
ten years into it
on my way out the door
I remember that
clearly
I stood on the rickety bridge
of broken obligations
I had set fire to
as I watched my
imaginary veil
swept away
by the water
under the bridge
LS 1/30/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 3/31/2007 10:39:42 PM | Unpalatable
i can't eat you
your jagged words
jab the psyche
till creative plasma
coagulates
from fear of exposure
you're
unpalatable
LS 12/12/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/1/2007 10:36:55 AM | bringing this home from first, last and Alyosha's thread.........
It's negative yeah, but we all have those days, and are just as needful of self expression as the happier times......besides, I can laugh at myself later, shrug and go on.......
Bleh
to know me, and about what i care
is anyone willing to take the dare
or do they think I'm a shallow pool
an easy to read, vainglorious fool
Or am I just a boring dud
a silly cow rechewing cud
a worn out **** who's had her day
and looking for a younger lay
a washed up writer of awful prose
whose ramblings make you want to doze
whose poetry has missed it's mark
a toothless dog with a soundless bark
I seem to be a one note song
whose melody goes on too long
and on that note I'll end this write
this toothless dog has lost her bite
LS 2/03/07 | |
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pensky
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Joined: 12/19/2006
Msg: 190 | |
| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/1/2007 1:21:50 PM | For Brizo:
Woman of women,
When society fails you,
You still embrace truth.
I wish I were a better reader.
I wish I were a better friend.
Yet, you embrace me. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/1/2007 2:27:24 PM | kind of hard not to like you sky, you're loveable.......the poem was written almost a month ago, in a rather bitter mood. The ballad below was posted in Bobby's old rhyme thread, and Ravin's ballad thread....
****************************************************************************
The curates wife
the story of the love affair
that had terrorized the land
the confession that the curates wife
was killed by the bishops hand!
So long ago they found her dead
folk had near forgotten
if she'd only shunned the bishops bed
for he was truly rotten
'twas a long forgotten mystery
who'd killed the curates wife
but now it leapt from history
to wreck the bishops life
they sent him down to Londontown
to a jury of his peers
he'd been a man of great renown
too rich for petty fears
but now he'd pay for his own sin
the townsfolk threatened riot
the sherrif forced to bring him in
the courtroom deathly quiet
the bishop ran quite out of luck
they sentenced him to hanging
a noose would soon be round his neck
at end of gavel's banging
they came around for many a mile
than cold November morn
the bishop hung upon the hill
and so the tale was born
LS 1/26/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/3/2007 5:13:35 AM | bringing this one home from Wooby's...
cotton wrappedheart
my cotton wrapped heart
still beats
muffled drums
wrapped in mourning tones
weeping for lost joy
fetal curled
my cord attached
to the promise
of better things to come
I doze in bruised limbo
waiting for the
healers kiss
and sending wish signals
LS 1/30/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/3/2007 9:28:24 PM | gemini
give me a gemini
their playful wit
disguised as prattling
and clever banter
hiding sheer depth
be relieved they
play it so
and don't stray
too far
the edge
is closer than
you think
and the fall
endless
they will soothe
and conjure
with those
sensitive
nimble hands
and syrup
sucking kisses
you lie down
laughing
with the jester
and arise
to janus
juggling
your heart
Ls 2/10/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/3/2007 11:20:42 PM | posted in first, last
prickle
you and I explode
into piece of mind
swirling spirograph
kaleidoscope grind
primordial awakening
recognition of kind
language is moot
empathy binds
touch is too much
removes the rind
eye contact shocks
and locks the mind
heavy c*o*c*k
pick the lock
knock and find
rock the dock
eros dined
Ls 4/04/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/4/2007 8:42:46 PM | salmon 2/07/07
giggling flock of salmon
taunt the bear
patient dangling claws
the tickle will be sharp
swimming upstream
leap the falls
just for the joy
of churning water
ancient homecoming
LS | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/4/2007 8:45:00 PM | benched
I awake this afternoon
restless night
ha, they follow
one upon another
homogenous
forming useless month
benched
from the varsity team
of labor
self pity sits
beside me
the smelly friend
no one will have
depression checks in
to see how I'm doing
and guilt
kicks me when I'm down
I open curtains
to the remaining day
shamefaced
startled;
my sins
covered over
with a sprinkling
of dazzling snow
a powdered sugar
world
clean again
my spirit
thanks you
mother earth
LS 1/28/07 | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/4/2007 11:19:42 PM | Woman, whatchu doin' in here, all alone? Brought some raspberry tea and biscuits.
We're waiting on snow, soon. The flower's will be in some kind of trubble, but I 'spect they'll survive. We, too.
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/5/2007 12:42:05 AM | yay!! A visitor. I'm getting to be a hermit in here....yes, some of my trees have leafed out, not real happy about this cold snap....I planted some tulips last fall and they're not up, not even the leaves.....I'm wondering if the first year they just put out leaves ? I was really looking forward to them, they're called rembrandt tulips, they're variegated.....
I've been occupying myself trying to find the perfect lampshade and pillow on Ebay, which I will not buy, of course....changing my decor and trying to make it more contemporary and light....
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posted this in first, last after Om's famous confession of what he did to his pillow as a teenage boy......and all the males weighing in after that........
pillow talk 2/01/07
and warm her in our marriage bed
the line has seemed to stop the thread
where are you West Coast night owl posters
and lusty libidinous pillow boasters
I wonder where you were last night
I see this barren wordless blight
I wonder if you drank some beer
and if your pillow shook in fear
Or shook with long pent up frustration
unleashed when you uncorked libation
wish I could scour that bad impression
of pillows with their indentation
but if you'd never mentioned it
I couldn't have unleashed my wit
as meager as it is to date
it's fun to tease, at any rate....
LS | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/5/2007 2:30:56 AM | I never charmed a pillow before
Or raised the roof with a Venetian whore,
But as for loving a hollowed-out zucchini?
My lips are sealed though twinging is my weenie. | |
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| Brizo's poems
Posted: 4/5/2007 5:22:52 AM | A hermit you may be in deed
but not, I’m sure, in your mind
for you’re not the sort to leave behind
people you have loved and lost
or just misplaced - at what cost!
And many of us, being somewhat shy,
may choose to stop by
your cyber home and leaving again, unheard,
too timid to leave even a brief, loving word. | |
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