Love Poems About Weed or Weed Love Poems
by Susan Ashley |
Categories: life, lost love, sad love,

Tin Foil Hearts

On pensive planes of wraith-like existence,
Are stoic shadows feigning affection;
Crimson lips of withering consistence,
Have lost their craze for craving confection.

Tear-filling prisms tilling a rueing sphere,
Pathos prowling, pity's wild and roaming;
Reminisce wind-blown is tumbleweed drear,
Bathos like bramble bur clings in gloaming.

Tin foil hearts' echo sad droning down-beat,
Rose petal ballet two rust figurines;
Today's gray sleet does douse yesteryears' heat,
Apathy's ennui directing the scenes...

Love once aflare in fanfare marigold,
Lies now a wizened weed, dried and stone cold.


Susan Ashley
November 2, 2017

by Daniel Turner |
Categories: angst, loneliness,

Living Hell

Damned by the devil's curse upon my heart
I pace the lonely bridge twixt love and hate
Stalked by death's shadow from the very start
Forsaken by the guiding hand of fate

My restless soul sleeps in the tangled thorns
Nursed by the acrid milk of bitter weed
Tormented nightly by old lovers scorned
And haunted by a score of sinful deeds

Pray, take me now to storm the gates of hell
Confront the wicked one and question why
Twas reason for my birth under his spell
To live a loveless life until I die

I curse this lonely life given to me
The fire of hell is all t'will set me free


  an original poem by Daniel Turner

by Juliet Ligon |
Categories: beauty, garden, heart, kiss, love, romantic, rose,

Take the Leap Into My Heart

Frolic into these open arms that need you.
Melt into my lips, and let them feed you.

Let the breath of love's kiss
and my eager feet lead you

into my heart's majestic garden.
Bloom freely, my beauty. I'll never weed you.

There is one trophy in this growth,
and it is, indeed, you.

Should my rare rose be cut,
my garden will truly bleed you.



For Debbie Guzzi's "Take The Leap" contest


by Olaoluwa Samuel |
Categories: appreciation, care, emotions, gospel, inspiration, inspirational, love,

His Presence

Your favour and mercy very tender 
Why you give them to me i still wonder
Then i realise its the grace am under
It does all things for me even clears your anger
Which helps me cry Abba-father

Your voice i hear in silence 
Sometimes i doubt with pretence 
Knowing fully well its you
Waiting for what to do

My very thought you read
Providing the things i need
All i ever ask is for you to take the lead
And be my guardian
Or give me a custodian

So as not to be a weed 
Which is uprooted and made a feed
But make me a mammoth 
That people can stay around and build a small hut

by Brian Anderson |
Categories: introspection, life, lost love, love

Runnin'

her place smells like lavender
or violets
i've slept here many times before
but never well
never fitfully
alien atmosphere i suppose
the bare bulbs in the bathroom
kill my shadow
i'm a stranger in the kitchen
smoking weed on the couch
pissing in the tiolet
and screwing her in the shower
intimately removed
she wants me to move in
i miss her already

by Marycile Beer |
Categories: hope, inspirational, love,

You'Re Still With Us

Your beautiful Morning Glories
Are just beginning their climb
Where they will once more reign
And in all their glory shine

A reminder to those of us who love you
You are still here for us if need be.
I'll try my best to keep them 
Watered and weed free

As they wave from that old flag pole
Where they out shine the sky's own blue

by Irene Musila |
Categories: 11th grade, 12th grade, inspirational love, love,

Weeding

Weeding
When weeds grow on love
We spend time weeding not loving
And before we realize the rains are gone
The land is dry and the love is dying.

When love grows on weed
We spend time loving not weeding
And before we realize the rains are back
The weed is gone and the love is thriving .




by Regina Mcintosh |
Categories: blessing, christian, faith, hope, inspirational love, jesus, peace,

Are You Saved?

At the end of each moment,
Lies a seed – sometimes an echo,
Stirring the depths of yearning,
Breathless as prayers, burning.

At the end of each nighttime,
Lies a weed – sometimes a thought,
Reflecting the music, the hues
Peaceful mysteries, enchanting stillness.

At the end of each risk,
Lies a deed – sometimes a dream,
Whispering of life, silent and meaningful,
Despairing of the star strewn skies.

Beyond the moments, the nights, the risks,
Abides a wisdom, reassuring and flavored in kisses,
Abundant as the gentling of a tenderness,
Brought to life by the urgency of God’s grace,
His life, breathless as praise, poured out so the world,
Can be saved… 

by Cecil Hickman |
Categories: happiness, introspection, life, peoplelove,

Me On Me

I really have no hobbies on a regular basis you see.
I enjoy woodworking, troubleshooting to any degree.

I do not like to cut grass with a lawn mower at all.
Though I love and enjoy weed eating, summer to fall.

My mind thinks continually, every day, upon everything.
I have no voice that has any tone, but in private I love to sing.

The only desire I have is to make others happy and enjoy life.
I definitely am not prideful, and I try to live with little strife.


written for
Sponsor Francine Roberts 
Contest Name Tell Us Something We Don't Know 


written by
cecil hickman

by Stephen Barry |
Categories: celebration, childhood, desire, hello, high school, longing, love,

Text Poems

Text Poem #1-afternoon

Park bike ride Random
Puppy Playdate creek
Romp with young Hippy
kid with boxer and California
hash crisp fall breathe
Dappled sunlight
Sherwood Forest

Text Poem #2-midnight

October full moon wheeling
Search for werewolves in the mire.
Tell a tale at Robin Hood’s fire.
Make a left at Sycamore pool.
At the door for a Dollar;
I’m a disco fool…

Text Poem #3

English grad
Council meeting
Turned into Irish
Fesh banshee 
Pub Scout weed
Debates unknown
Live rock n roll still

Text Poem #4

129-minute hellos
Where you been’s
And how’d it goes
So much time
so much space
soon  remedied
face to face

by Daniel Turner |
Categories: humorous, love,

Trust Me Baby This Is Love

One thought of her and your heart skips a beat
Which prompts the little boy inside to squirm
That sends a tingling feeling to your feet
You feel as clumsy as a pachyderm

The stomach starts to tumble like a weed
You're breath is labored like you ran a mile
The loneliness begins to feel the need
If that ain't love, then why that silly smile

And yet you tell yourself,"I'm not in love"
"I do not want this happening to me"
You never thought you'd find the one dreamed of
In all those dreams that end so happily

How quickly one forgets love causes pain
Love feels so good it short circuits the brain


       July 16 2017
    by Daniel Turner

by Ngoc Nguyen |
Categories: best friend, betrayal, desire, for her, for him, friendship, love,

Friends With Benefits

Your friends with benefits are no true friend:
as (au contraire!) your friends when used are a
perverse weed from which you must then defend
against when trust and friendship sweep away;
your friends aren't lovers' toys to be abused
or spent on reckless nights of screwing (them)
where prudence is forsaken and unused
because you just feel like it on a whim.
But if you choose to love your now good friend(s)
then do so at your own risk and danger  
as oftener than not you'll in the end  
only create just another stranger:
     if you err in this but ne'er broke your word, 
     then this you may forswear you read or heard.

by Robert Lindley |
Categories: angel, appreciation, beauty, devotion, forgiveness, god, love,

God Sends Promises and Love

God Sends Promises and Love


God sends rain, snow , all kinds of weather
 sweet love that brings us all together
A miracle or two when we so badly need it
 gardens of fruits if we but weed it!

God gifts our lives with our sweet kids
 pulls us up when our lives hit the skids
Brushes us off with gentle mercies divine
 blesses us with good food and his wine!

God sent love by way of his Savior Son
 miracles of love not to ever be outdone
Rainbows showing promises very sublime
 a reward of love and eternity in time!

God stands the Rock that meets our needs
Forgives us of even the most wicked deeds!

Robert J. Lindley 
07/28/2014

by Peter Lewis Holmes |
Categories: addiction, humorous,

Weed

I love weed; Afghan Red to be precise
It is my favourite illegal vice
I do it in the bath and in the hall
I smoke it in summer and right through fall

I smoke in class and in canteen
I smoke when cops are on the scene,
I light up when in academic gown, 
a practice that made my former
Wife frown

And on the bus it is a hoot, to fill the
Air with devil’s suit; to draw it in 
And keep it down, is much preferred
On trip through town

So if you feel life’s closing in, forget
The doctor or the gin, it’s weed that 
Makes the world go round, its soothing
Pleasure…it has no measure... this
wicked vice, I'll always treasure

by Jan Oskar Hansen |
Categories: anger, environment, sad love,

Prostitution

Prostitution 

I never liked horses, 
oh yes, they are beautiful 
and dumb
and crap in their food
on the grassland of forever.
Horses are like Romanian women,
you catch them, rape them 
and tamed you sell them 
in Hamburg as tame whores, 
who can be ridden by any man 
for a bit of cash.
And all the owners of horses have
to do is to serve them weed.

by Debra Squyres |
Categories: love, romantic, heart, heart,

Anonymous Valentine

Anonymous Valentine Wand’rest thou in the evening shade where growetj the buds untrimmed. The rose with all its thorns, pales fade, against thy beauty. Far fairer is thy complexion, which bids decline of sun, less alabaster cheeks find a gentle dust of speckles, unkind. Thou art mine eternal Valentine, leased only for a short time, whilst hidden in shadows decline. This braggart’s heart gives way to silent love’s impediments, as ink spills this declaration from quills end, unmarked by its maker. A totter’d weed, of feebled age, besieged unfairly, bows low to societies bequest of duteous stage. A sickle swung before a blind heart could ripen. 02/04/13

by Enock Sang |
Categories: art, beauty, care, deep, flower, happiness, hope,

Precious Flower

Life is a flower, given to you
Take care of it for it lays in your hands
Don't ignore her needs for survival
Water her day by day, let her grow deeper into the soil
Weed some of the unwanted plants
That may choke her, and then dies as she struggles for life
Prone some of the branches
Remove the dry leafs with care and kindness
Let her know nature since nature is her mother
Never let her grow alone, for she needs the company of others
As she begins to blossom, you'll know that she has matured with your love 
Life is a flower, don't break her since you can't make another
Life is a precious flower, give her the care she needs.

by Ashlew Wright |
Categories:

Wild Soul

My soul is wild
The weed has increased my vision
Going with the flow
Puffin on my joint
Singing laughing dancing
Everything is gunna be alright
My soul has a grip 
Tightly on my brain
Breath in exhale
So much love for mary jane
I do not hate
My soul is flowing
Its dancing around my veins
If I close my eyes
I might loose my mind
 A Smokey haze surrounds my face
Touch me once twice 
In and out
My soul is wild

by Mike Dailey |
Categories: science, social,

Weed Be Gone

Weed Be Gone

A warning to guys who smoke weed
There’s a consequence that you don’t need
Research tests show the answer
Was testicular cancer
And that is bad mojo indeed

So guys if you must smoke the weed
Remember when you try to breed
If you love making shanks
You might be shooting blanks
With equipment that’s not up to speed

Don’t let this news be a buzzkill
Smoke ‘em it that is your will
But just be aware
You might lose the pair
To me that just outweighs the thrill

Mdailey	9/12/12

by Miichelle Van |
Categories: peace

Hippie Man

I seen a man A hippie Man sitting in the park 
On the middle bench to be exact,
Hello hippie man where are your people?
He looked around he spoke no sound but the grass was green and the flowers
making there way to my hand as usual,
Left hand to be exact,
This Hippie man spoke so low 
As I did to
We laughed
He laughed No idea's One love RIGHT??
Now this hippie man his acid level was HIGH
So high i turned too
He looked in my eye Both And he said
With his pipe to be exact,
I am the hippie man and you are my people
my daisy my lily but mainly my weed
Stop by, get high 
Love the hippie man
to be exact.

by Jimmi Canada |
Categories: 11th grade, black love, books, mountains,

Try

Do me truly,

because I wish I never had,

hate me bizarre because weed doesn't hit far-

forstall and say 'your friend',

tell the whole world that it is spent-

traditionally in a send of the courageous pen!

Stake like the entrapment well-den-

procrastinate because they figured out your bend!

Flake and forget to amaze and fend-

gesturing is no amount of time you need to see yourself commend.

by Jimmi Canada |
Categories: city, creation, fate, green, howl, inspirational, london, sad love, tree, true love, vanity, visionary, wine,

Haimish2

So fishy to wish upon the forcery star-

a daze un-far,

to be so alarmed...

Falling car,

no weed-

but then we spar,

to the denial part,

to the serendipity,

to the dark.

by Nic Oatridge |
Categories: family, garden, mother, mothers day,

On Mother's Day

My mother has a garden
where abundant borders grow.
To keep the plot in harmony
she’ll hoe and weed and mow.

This time of year is cruel -
not all the plants would thrive
if it were not for my mother 
whose care keeps them alive.

Yet she tends another garden 
With an orchard far away -
Where she sends the love the fruit 
trees need to blossom every day.

And with my love I send my mum
the flowers in this bouquet.

by Demetrios Trifiatis |
Categories: love, relationship,

Garden of Bliss

No relationship

Would ever flourish in the garden 

Of bliss


Unless 


The weed of egoism is 

Uprooted from the pristine soil 

Of love!




© Demetrios Trifiatis
   19 October 2015

by Jessamyn Duckwall |
Categories: age, break up, first love, for her, growth, sister,

Sonnet For Sister

O Grunge Princess, I know today your love
brims over, idle, for the rebel boy
like weed you keep, unsmoked, sitting among
your secrets in a box; the smells they cloy
and force you into longing. Come what may,
Space Mermaid, your boy is just a dream.
He's not your happiness, nor is the way
he makes you feel--this illusion may seem
absolute, but first loves often do.
I know I cannot sway you with my words;
just remember: moments fizzle out, but you
will yet remain, just like your box of herbs.
           When you learn to walk alone in power
            your enigmatic buds begin to flower