Poem #14 -“Stoner”


Well as many of you know today is 420 the international day for everyone to go smoke weed and also a day where the police catch most of these people. Hey, it goes with the territory I guess. Well, it is Bob Marley day…and Adolf Hitler’s birthday; yeah go figure. Well here’s a poem/lyric I wrote called “Stoner”.This song is a little commentary on suburbia, enjoy 😉

Don’t worry bout a thing baby-girl

they’re just letters after all,

I’d be lying to say they never had meant something;

but I’d be lying to say she means a thing.

We like to wallow in the green,

painting murals on my walls

a sea of cottonmouth fishes:

what else could that mean.

I like to hang out low,

passed out in the backseat.

Hey I like to get real low

you asleep in my bed. 

You and i girl,

we want to live alone

but we can’t quite pay what we owe.

When i get paid, you know we’re getting stoned

so crush, spark, burn and there it goes.

Emerald eyes speak in twos

tell me to go back to bed

I think I’ll write another excuse

and wake up lying in my head.

Life is better in the morning

cause our dreams have gone their ways,

life is better when you’re soaring

so let’s just breath it in.

You and i girl,

we want to live alone

but we can’t quite pay what we owe.

When i get paid, you know we’re getting stoned

so crush, spark, burn and there it goes.

I think I found a holiday

built my igloo in sun

they say it usually goes that way

forget the past things that I’ve done.

Hey I think I found a holiday

it’s pretty nice let’s go for a ride!

Hey i think i found another way,

in the backside of my mind.

Hey what more to say?

Past things that are lost;

all the past things that are lost;

all the past…

the past is lost.

Lost.

I’m lost.

I found myself a holiday,

and I think I’ll just  burn it all away.

We like to hang out late, get shit-faced

wake up late, get baked

and still we can’t find our home.

We need to leave here quick

if not we’ll get home- sick

and tongue tied

and that’s not what’s on my mind,

I just want to get stoned.

Break the nug, get fucked,  I got the paper

now how can we stay here;

this place wasn’t ever meant for me.

If there’s a gateway let’s take it till

we find the path and come home

I just want to get stoned.

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About Damian Rucci

D.F. Rucci is a writer, blogger, and a musician from a small town in New Jersey. View all posts by Damian Rucci

6 responses to “Poem #14 -“Stoner”

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