cornfield

 

 

 

 

 

 

         crows in the cornfield --
      the harvest in the nick of time

*more* corn - look, a rabbit!

`two gluttonous squirrels,
waiting their turn, wary and fat --
last of the corn harvest

Reefer Madness

We stood around and laughed, making jokes and piling derision on some cops in Missouri today. They'd posted on their Facebook timeline news of a "raid" on a rural field somewhere, claiming a major bust of a marijuana growing operation. They had to pull the post down after it was pointed out by numerous commentators the illicit material they posed next to in their photo op was was in fact cannabis ruderalis - Hemp plant. A big to do over nothing; it grows wild all across the country still, since the day hemp was a commonly accepted commodity, self-seeding illicit patches and spurring controversy from time to time.

Sometime after Prohibition, prior to the Red Scare and the inception of the Central Intelligence Agency, a rabble rousing lobby in Government made it into a boogieman to be persecuted and controlled. So successful was the campaign that most have forgotten its beneficial beginnings. Mention it now and our conditioning compels us to associate it only with criminal behavior.

A number of us began to share stories of our encounters with marijuana, criminal, bumbling, with intent or just by chance, swapping lies and tall tales in a friendly competition of sorts. Some of the stories were more incredulous than others, while none spoke of its uses in industry. some of the more odd confrontations addressed culture as well, due its relation to the outlawed strains that put so many in jeopardy with the law.

We had a plant growing by our back door when we were very young and living on our own. It went eleven feet tall if not more. Just for a joke we threw some seeds down from the stoop to land next to a small garden. This was a result along with a handful of specimens of varying sizes surrounding it.

The cops had to visit one day - East Side was always poppin' - responding to some call or other. I was always the front man, so came out to address them in my best schmooze. And there, over my right shoulder, stood the giant sweet leaf, fully expanded in the high southern sun, its stench and stalk rising from grade to far above the deck where I stood. The lead cop looked at me and then looked right at Weedzilla but didn't say a word. I didn't move a muscle.

The state went on to charge possession with a misdemeanor eventually, a $100 ticket' essentially. Seems like pretty reasonable legislation to me.

Some made mention of more harrowing experiences, about society and lawlessness, the politicization of an issue, of the militarization of police and their training and mindset towards the public. Others reminisced about their lives growing up in various regions, revealing an homogeneity of experience, its changes, and what they might portend.

You could pick Minnesota Green from down by the tracks all day long. The first of its seeds fallen off plant material loaded on the passing cars, hemp for the war effort, and for industry and export. The country's breadbasket brought all it's production here, across the plains to The Great Woods, the northern most port on the Mississippi and a city of thieves, the most boring town in America.

A million freight cars must have passed through here in its heyday. Even now, if one has his wits about him, where ever you are, night or day, you soon will hear the train's echo down any street, through every nook and alley.

I complain a lot about this place. I wonder what it will look like in ten years?


Harvest moon --
halcyon days
in Rivertown



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September 2012 Dottie Dot Awards

Dottie, the mascot and editor-in-chief of the Haiku Bandit Society, has determined the three best Moon Viewing Party poems for the month of September, 2012.

Forthwith, here, in order of their appearance, are the recipients of this month's Dottie Dot Awards!


To view previous month's winners click here.













torchless night
this moonlit walk
to the chook pen

Barbara A Taylor











after the storm
a drifting boat
catches the moon

Christine L. Villa











Of ripples
On the midnight river
The moon is making
Alphabet soup

Tito

September 2012 Moon Viewing Party

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You are cordially invited to our tenth moon viewing party of 2012! The full moon rises Saturday, September 29th, GMT.

To submit a poem (each submission remains the property of its author)
you may email us here: HAIKU BANDIT SOCIETY or post in comments.

Please include your pen name so we might accredit your poem properly. Happy moon gazing!


To see previous month's moon poems click here.


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(click on photos to enlarge)

early dark the moon sits in his chair alone

Melissa Allen











all these words still the same moon

angie werren

Rick Daddario

harvest moon setting another place around the table

Margaret Dornaus

torchless night
this moonlit walk
to the chook-pen

Barbara A Taylor

moon walker
do you still believe
in love?

Stella Pierides

molasses moon-
the bread maker stuck
on "rise" cycle

Vida

casino moon
a token
for a hard days work

John Merryfield

after the storm
a drifting boat
catches the moon

Christine L. Villa

Of ripples
On the midnight river
The moon is making
Alphabet soup

Tito

even when
I'm not looking...
harvest moon

cara holman