Jack's Zest for Life

Jack's Zest for Life

A Poem by Seasick Fist
"

Being the pessimist I am, it's often reflected in my writing. So I decided to write an upbeat poem, so here's one about smoking weed and nature. Enjoy.

"

Take a bit, sprinkle it, roll it up, take a hit.

Inhale, exhale, suddenly you don't give a s**t.

Engulf yourself in a haze of apathy, with the weight of the world on your shoulders weed is the best remedy.

I love to sit back, relax and smoke some grass amongst the trees.

Surround myself with nature, my sun-kissed face being caressed by the early evening breeze.

I watch the Sun tuck itself into a bed of opaque orange tinted clouds.

As the moon rubs its eyes, rising to greet its incandescent acquaintances.

And as I gaze up at these ethereal balls of matter I realise how my being pales in comparison.

But a grain of sand in an infinitely expanding desert of the unknown, the unexplored beauty that eludes us.

That not even my silver tongue and eloquence could even begin to do justice.

But with every toke I take I feel I gain a little more understanding.

This thirst for knowledge is so demanding.

Albeit notwithstanding, the minds capacity to comprehend the inner workings of the cosmos.

I weave my fingers, intertwining them with the blades of grass, like lovers hands clasped together in an intimate embrace.

I close my eyes and attempt to converse with this giant, living, breathing organism known as planet Earth.

I imagine I can sense the essence of every living creature on this ball of rock.

From the mice evading cats out on their midnight stroll to the dogs in back gardens barking long into the night.

To the pronghorns, cardinals and wolverines of North America.

And the people in Australia just waking up to great the morning Sun.

And the Asian fishermen hauling in the first catch of the day.

To a new born baby opening its eyes for the very first time, experiencing the beauty of this crazy tapestry we call life.

All of this, all of it happening in this very moment, a cacophony of thriving existential beauty.

And a smile creeps across my face as I take in and cherish this single moment in time, and appreciate just how blessed I am to be alive, able to experience it.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Well I am Jack’s Zest for Life.

We can spend the rest of our time theorising if we are in the Shadowlands or this is truly reality.

But I choose to shave with Occam's Razor myself; it just doesn't matter to me.

All I know is the feel of the grass beneath my feet, the wind in my hair,

The sensation of another's lips pressed against mine, the unparalleled scare, 

When your foot slips on that top stair.

These are all invaluable experiences one must not take for granted.

That cannot be mass produced, imitated or even implanted.

No, experiences are unique to every individual; their effects are underestimatedly profound and perhaps even more so residual.

To take from our surroundings what is needed, and make of it something more.

Like emotional puzzle pieces fitting every mental contour.

Until finally the bigger picture is revealed, at last your understanding of the world around you has become congealed.

Like the ripples on a lake when you throw in a stone,

Stretching out across the water, gradually fading away.

Reminiscent of the tale about the Dog and the Bone, don't take for granted what you have or run the risk of ending up alone.

Just remember opportunity lurks around every corner and bend, and there's no wound that time can't eventually mend.

You can find beauty in practically everything if you look hard enough.

The hammers in a piano striking the strings, the sparkle in someone's eyes like shiny diamond rings.

The warmth of the Sun or the luminous glow of the moon, the honesty in a smile and the sincerity if a swoon.

Why should anyone have to apologise for a sneeze or a hiccup?

Why should any of us stop dreaming, after we wake up?

© 2012 Seasick Fist


Author's Note

Seasick Fist
Yes the title is a Fight Club reference.

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the last line is wha i do i never stop dreaming its scary how i'm always thinking that's how i broke my face on the fence. don't ask but i like the beginning and everything and i like how you look at weed at something different, its nice to hear another point of view finally.

Posted 9 Years Ago



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Added on September 29, 2011
Last Updated on August 25, 2012
Tags: Spoken Word, Poetry, Poem, Weed, Marijuana, Nature

Author

Seasick Fist
Seasick Fist

West Midlands, United Kingdom



About
I am a Poet from a small town you've never heard of. Here I will share my Spoken Word Poetry. I've decided to only include my poetry I don't perform on this site from now on. For my more traditi.. more..

Writing