Hemp Headed Epiphany Poem by Ted Sheridan

He had just smoked a bowl or two of pretty good weed
And low and behold he was an enlightened poetic genius
Every idea that popped into his newly opened mind
Came from God or the National March of Dimes
Every thought seemed like another brilliant idea for a write
Every word had practically been transcribed by biblical scholars
Every odor and every sound was like a fresh new revelation
He could taste and feel for the first time what it meant to be alive
He felt he had been ordained and was in the mist of a real epiphany
So with that…
He smoked another bowl or two of the gifted weed
And prayed to Jesus that this feeling never leave him
And Jesus answered back from out of the fog in Aramaic
That it was all apart of man’s dominion over the earth
And the weed was his to keep and to be used as should he so deem
But this man who liked to toke and toke and toke and toke
Soon became complacent in his daily habits and his work
Forgetting to tithe and neglecting the importance of planting for the harvest
He was soon left with only zip lock baggies of stems and non-indigenous seeds
Much to his chagrin he had finally learned one of Life’s many ironies
“Where there is smoke there is sometimes only ire….”

2007 © T Sheridan