The Incense Burner

Just a fun little poem I made. This is completely fictional and has nothing to do with me. I certainly wouldn't do or suggest what is done in this poem-story hybrid. I hope you enjoy!

The Incense Burner                                                                                     

 

At church, I feel like I’m in a hearse, cursed to listen to the same thing rehearsed

Completely at the priest’s mercy, the least he could do is give me the courtesy to light up

I wonder who will fall asleep first waiting on my knees I have the worst sober feeling

I don’t feel like I’m a human being

Praying to a god I don’t believe in

I know my heart is going to burst if I don’t get my herbs

I want to walk out the door and light up by the curb

Disturbed by the fact I don’t want to be here, to be clear, I have nothing against the religion

But it’s a given that the sermon is turning my mind on snooze

Bodies used to the drug and if I don’t use, I lose

People are alarmed, they can see the cravings, all my life’s savings are going to go up in smoke, and it might have to be in a church's steeple

Need something, some kind of buzz at least some booze, but pick or choose, if I leave now I’d lose respect from the neighbors

I need a favor, life is deceiving, I’d rather spend my evening anywhere else and I’m thieving for a smoke it would be a lifesaver

Just the bold flavor of the cush going straight into my lungs, the hot smoke on my tongue

The release, the increase in dopamine, and when it’s all done and life’s fun once more

If the son of God came down to me now he’d know how I feel deep in his core

Let’s be real he lights up that marijuana, he’d know what’s plants are used for

My body feels hot like California, my mouth is dry, my bodies sore

But when it comes to ounces, I could always use more

I want to be feeling emotions that I could never feel

Breaking the seal between daily life and Nirvana

No need for a sun tan to get baked, it’s crazy how the life can change in a moment it’s banana’s

Tastes and sensations of purity from the purest weed

The only thing that can feed monotony what it needs to create seas of emotions, did I say seas?

I meant oceans, every single tasteful green aired toke make life pass in slow motion

I could be broke, or in jail, but no joke when I feel that green on my lips I’m quick to salivate all over my face because when I smoke I could be any place

Life is a race, but I want to take it slow and take it one blow of clean, mean medicinal green to make everything like a fairy tale scene

You can’t be truly happy to be alive until you get fried

You begin to see the world in colors you’ve never seen before and s**t

Score with the last chick at the hardcore rock pit, and I can smell it on her misty eyes, bong water

Nothing hits me harder than this

Turns my pain into ecstasy, and I know people are next to me but the sermon isn’t connecting to me spiritually and I can see that these people need to see things from a higher perspective

Yes I’m here in church, and heaven comes first, but  my pierced lips need the plant of gods

Pure grass from the pastures of Eden no fraud

But I’d be in hell if I stay still and listen to the words of an old man talking about sod as if it’s even green

So I go up to the incense burner all nonchalant

The want for the fresh green air haunts me like the holy ghost

Can’t get my mind off my need for pot, I’d rather not sit and listen to another dot jot of a monk from 400 years ago

I’m not going to rot listening to slop I don’t like

I thought it would be good enough to spike the wine with hard liquor

The buzz felt good but I needed something quicker

I couldn’t even breath I had to find the fix I need to climb to a higher state of being at any risk

I….. need…..  weed.

So I put my whole 8 ounces in the incense burner and made sure to turn her on

It hit the room like a bonfire as the smell perspired through the church, eliminating the wrong

Freeing us from sin, a blast of smoke hit me like a bong

The priest gave me a deathly look is his eyes, he knew what I did but a moment later he nearly died

 

The priest got baked and fried like a potato

He continued rambling on, but with the haze, in the room, I wasn’t sure that he’d be able

He talked about how much he loved us all in this hall, his voice wasn’t stable but that didn’t matter at all

He said “God is with us all, brothers, fathers, sisters, mothers, sons, and daughters of today. Enjoy every minute of life, I love you all and even if life is boring and grey, remember that even on the most cloudy of days if you truly love life, you’ll never be fazed.”

For the first time in my life, I saw the old man was blazed

Then the older woman next to me dressed in her Sunday best, wearing a necklace of God, who I never saw do anything ever even slightly against the law, said what the rest of us were thinking

“God, let the grass keep burning, and the weed continue stinking!”

I looked the woman in the face, and I thought there’d be no way though

The look in her eyes, she looked as happy as a newborn baby in a cradle

The green air passed through the entire room, happiness frolicked, laughter boomed

And every church goer enjoyed the fumes 

I nearly cried when I spied in the look in the priest’s face, I could almost taste the love and closeness the feeling in this place

He looked happier than an angel that had fallen out of grace

And I knew he enjoyed it, how unseen, how odd

And boy did I ever feel any closer with the church goers, the priest, or with god.

 

Author's Note

A fun little poem I made. I don't smoke. The reason this was written was because an artist asked people all over the world to send him their darkest secrets without saying who it was from. He made a picture from it. I took one of those secrets from an unknown source; this is that secret that the whole poem is based upon. "I put weed in the incense burner in church" I made a nice little poem about it. I hope you enjoy.

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

Reviews

[ROXANE DORSEY]

You have to have patience wit God. thanks for this wonderful poem.

[Jackie]

It sounded quite real as if you were writing on present or previous events. Sounded so right for me

[wordman]

this might be your best write,it sounded like real life

[Najam Us Saher]

I loved how your thoughts roamed while sitting in a church and listening to a sermon. It is difficult to control one's thoughts right?

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

I should have been more accurate, this poem isn't about me, I was trying to put myself into the mind of the person that sent the artist their secret. This is completely fictional. I'm happy you liked it though, I plan to make more poems soon! Possibly some from someone else's outlook, and more from my own mind and thoughts. Thank you for reviewing!

[Najam Us Saher]

Okay, I get it now. You are most welcome.