This is a poem about my friend Marc Emery, known as the Prince of Pot.
This is written in the format of the famous poem by Coleridge, called “Kubla Khan.”
In Canada the Prince of Pot,
An end to war on herb decreed.
And so with but a business plan,
And fortitude unknown to man,
He sold a milion seeds.
For all these seeds good soil was found:
Some in growrooms underground,
Where in home gardens hidden from prying eyes,
There blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And in great forests, cleverly disguised,
Were planted plots of secret greenery.
But oh! those drug enforcement agents which hunted
all the great green herb and those who love it!
Those savage men! Unholy and demented,
For whose foul crimes can never be repented.
They enforce their law but are above it!
And so these agents, with ceaseless anger seething,
Hating those who practice pot-smoke breathing,
Backed by a state which grants them use of force,
And also an unlimited funding source,
Launched many raids against his Hempire strong,
Took all his seeds and every pipe and bong!
Yet all their busts and raids had come to naught,
For our Pot Prince still reigns despite being caught.
It seems like nothing stops him, not at all!
His businesses and plans proceed apace,
His shops and lounges fill a growing space,
(Despite some issues still with City Hall.)
And every day the Prince hears near and far,
The people’s voices crying out “End the war!”
The inspiration of the Prince
Spread across the desperate land.
Activists worked to convince
Their neighbours they should end the ban.
It was a miracle of human power,
to save the world at its most desperate hour!
A happy weed-filled world of love
In a vision once I saw ;
It was a paradisial place,
A smile shone forth from every face,
Hemp clothed and fed us all.
Let’s end the laws which bind us,
And manifest this dream!
Let the Prince’s work remind us,
That we all must shout and scream!
Cry, “I will help to end this war!
I will make the sacrifice.”
And all who toke must do their part,
And all should cry out “Stop! Stop! Stop!
“You will not take the Prince of Pot!”
Put the hug-power round him thrice,
And let him not in chains be led!
For he the sacred seed has spread,
And shared the herb of paradise.