The Sound of Bubbles Hello dankness, my old friend I've come to smoke with you again Because the weed is softly creeping Left no seeds in the weed while I was sleeping And the vision that my bong planted in my brain still remains Within the sound of bubbles In restless dreams, I baked alone Narrow streets… no one was stoned 'Neath the halo of my BIC lighter I turned my collar to make the flame burn higher When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a police light that split the night And silenced the sound of bubbles And in the police light I saw Ten thousand stoners, maybe, more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing poems that stoners never shared because no one dared Disturb the sound of bubbles. "Fools," said I, "You do not know Pot helps the cancer not to grow Take a hit that I might teach you Take my bong that I might reach you But my words, like silent teardrops, fell Coughs echoed all the way to hell And the people hit and coughed Though no marijuana they had bought. And the police car flashed out its warning In the words that they were forming And the sign said, "The words of the stoners are written on the dispensary walls…the coughing falls And whispered in the sound of bubbles -Jeff
Where da wake and bakers at?
A song for you to sing whilst you bake.
The Sound of Bubbles
#Comedy #WritingCommunity
#PoemsThatLeaveAStain
