Cannabis counterfeit

I used to think wisdom to be green,

Something tangible

To be grown,

picked at,

rolled up,

and lit.

I used to believe secrets

Told by ones whose Twelve Tribes never thirsted for promised lands

and Black Stars that never touched even the brim of these Atlantic sands


and whose hopes couldn't even steal them away.


I used to believe it was okay


For sacramental smoke,


Where these men and women-folk live in community townships,


But now its


a saving truth that breaks open mysteries,


A truth to prove the failures of so-called imperial majesties,


Haile Selassie means nothing to me,


So in his immortalized vanity,


I renounce my Christ-less past...

-Arielle John copyright 2007