Crazy baboon eats flamingos (Fable) ^^^^^^^^^^^

Flamingos survive in the caustic space of the volcanic lake./
Flamingos' beaks skim tiny algae from the water's surface./
They watch out for predators like jackals or eagles, to make /
Their mud-cone nest for holding the egg with their grace./

Flamingos have a behavior because they dance in the light/
Bowing, bending their necks, signaling with their wing, /
Running back and forth and then suddenly taking flight /
To wheel around the lake, seemingly searching for something./

Recalling the ancient Phoenix myth, that immortal bird /
Who was consumed by flames, then rose from the ashes./
With such a poor sense of taste and smell as I never heard /
With long neck and legs, faint pink feathers and yellow eyes. /

Pinkish-white with red wings and two black flight feathers/
Founded throughout Africa, as well as Iran, India and Spain/

[...] Read more

poem by Marieta Maglas
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I Forgot How to Do It

There's a storm brewing,
And a moth in the ceiling
And there's a man blatantly rusting
Encrusting with cobwebs, chipped and jagged
By the corner siphoned of salvation
No God to talk to, kneading for redemption
Talk to the man with a lion for a head
Or the colossal mandrill, sagacious king
No orphan nor dream, nothing could redeem
The crevasse that cleaved
Now, asunder. Now, leave.
Forlorn child, where should a soul reside?
No body too scarce,
When you rest beneath these scars
And live without breathing
Or breathe without living
The phantom vanished from the masquerade
What haunts with the undertow?
Morsels of bereavement
Will lacerate the lungs in billows

[...] Read more

poem by Norman Santos
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A Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock

The houses are haunted
By white night-gowns.
None are green,
Or purple with green rings,
Or green with yellow rings,
Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange,
With socks of lace
And beaded ceintures.
People are not going
To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
Only, here and there, an old sailor,
Drunk and asleep in his boots,
Catches Tigers
In red weather.

poem by Wallace Stevens
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Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock

The houses are haunted
By white night-gowns.
None are green,
Or purple with green rings,
Or green with yellow rings,
Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange,
With socks of lace
And beaded ceintures.
People are not going
To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
Only, here and there, an old sailor,
Drunk and asleep in his boots,
Catches Tigers
In red weather.

poem by Wallace Stevens
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He Is The Culprit!

The culprits culminate in the position of registry,
An aimless forfeit complains in the way of the end.
The baboon munches, he flaps his arms and toes,
With a banal complaint, like the battles he fights.
The ordinance delivered by this dangerous dummy
Is an ingoing instinct, a leader’s river of life and rights.
He is an ayatollah of wheels, a man with an axle
To save his sort, the culprit is himself, although a priesthood.

poem by Naveed Akram
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In Heidelberg

In Heidelberg we stayed in a white house
against the ranges
and there were always
sweet yellow corn that Mom had planted
and nice juicy green beans
that crept up the canes
and I planted rows of onions
and pulled orange carrots
from the ground
and washed them at the tap
and bit pieces from them
and the trees
were heavy with peaches
and we had to
chase the baboons away
that came to strip the them,
but those times
has long passed
and I wonder what is left
of that old white house?

poem by Gert Strydom
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For Tat

O, heavenly powers! will wonders never cease?
Hair upon dogs and feathers upon geese!
The boys in mischief and the pigs in mire!
The drinking water wet! the coal on fire!
In meadows, rivulets surpassing fair,
Forever running, yet forever there!
A tail appended to the gray baboon!
A person coming out of a saloon!
Last, and of all most marvelous to see,
A female Yahoo flinging filth at me!
If 'twould but stick I'd bear upon my coat
May Little's proof that she is fit to vote.

poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Tabloids

Jack Nicholson jumped clear over the moon
And Britney Spears just married a baboon

A spaceship was spotted over L.A.
And Harrison Ford burnt down a café

Last weekend Bob Hope was seen around town
And Tom Cruise was reported to have drown

Bush and Kim Jong were fishing at the lake
And Pam Anderson said her boobs aren't fake

Lindsay Lohan is fat and then she's thin
Congradulations! Arnold has had twins

Trump has denied his comb over screaming
Nights in Paris have a whole new meaning

poem by Nicole Ronne
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The Climate

The climate we spring from is hot,
So hot and heavy, in a live manner such a lot.
Eruptions meander in our minds with fighting balloons,
These works of man, and all the baboons.
Mountains cried from heavy damage
As the lava has spread too much abusage.
It rebounds from the mirror like a photon
That seeks a target of anxiety like dawn.
We are following laws of weight, hardened by time
As the laws that hurt in fury and anger, the real climb.
A claim is committed of a real man,
He is hating the hot and warmth as he can.

poem by Naveed Akram
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(Hate Poems) Hate Speech Bafflement

If I sing the killer the farmer
Tune of my liberation is that hate speech?
If the white people sing the kill
The baboon kindergarten lullaby of their
Race hatred is that hate speech?
Your terrorist is my hero
It is an exercise in futility
And no judge can censor what the people
Want to sing
If the people want those who kill
White widows on the the farms
To face the gallows listen to their outcry
If the people want to subject the crass
Racists who racially abuse them let the fools
Taste the law of the jungle of the people

poem by Ngaka Motaung
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The Quangle Wangle's Hat

I.
On the top of the Crumpetty Tree
The Quangle Wangle sat,
But his face you could not see,
On account of his Beaver Hat.
For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide,
With ribbons and bibbons on every side
And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace,
So that nobody every could see the face
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.II.

The Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, --
"Jam; and jelly; and bread;
"Are the best of food for me!
"But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree
"The plainer than ever it seems to me
"That very few people come this way
"And that life on the whole is far from gay!"
Said the Quangle Wangle Quee.III.

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Lear
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Suddenly A Shadow Falls

Suddenly a shadow falls from above
where a rock-rabbit bathes in the sun,
it moves to the fountain in the mountain,
hear baboons barking higher up on the cliffs
stops in fear, would have run if it could,
against the rock that animal is very small.
The shadows gets shape, it gets dangerous,
with deadly, piercing claws, beak stretched out
lightning quick and precise something falls,
the rock-rabbit screeches and just escapes,
disappears into a split of rock
waits for moments that lasts a eternity
but the flying danger is still there,
with yellow-gold eyes staring from the heights.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Anne Hathaway: On Her Famous Husband's Yearly Visit

You old baboon with pox red sores,
You mount me like your tavern whores,
Am I to swoon and faint with pleasure
That you've returned to ease your leisure;
You hayseed bumpkin, you thread bare fop,
You ride me like a saddled mop,
And squeeze me tightly round the throat
And besiege me with your belly bloat;
You dropp some coins upon the bed,
Am I a whore or a wife wed?
You complain I'm wrinkled, getting fat,
You scrawny toad whose ass doth flap;
With your garters and your silken hose,
I see the rats nibble at your toes;
We all must scamper, our Lord's returned,
May he be staked and public burned

poem by David McLansky
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Neurotica

Good morning, its 3am in this great roaring
City full of garbage eaters ravaging parking
Spots beneath my plaza window I see cheetah in their
Tight skins and tired heels all-night hippo in
The diner crossing the street swarthy heards of young
Impala flambastic gibbon even a struggling monza
And over there that brilliant head ornament on that
Japanese macaque but look closely at the hammerhead hand
In hand with the mandrill, its a sight youre
Unlikely to see anywhere else on the planet...
The stench and noise, yes, yes, the howlers
Resonating repertoire is not too bad when mixed with
The more musical twern of the tropical warbler but the
Impatient taxi blare the squawking elderly ibis and
The glass-eye snapper hawking papers I can certainly
Live without also be cautious of the poisonous
Boomslang laughter social droppings of the fruit bat
And purple queen fish and whos that babbler conversing
With a magazine stand? evidently hes getting a good
Reply...

[...] Read more

song performed by King Crimson
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Moon

While moths and caterpillars spin cocoons
Fishes are floating dead in polluted lagoons
Only some dream of flying to the moon
While many dream of becoming a tycoon

Tonight I looked up to the skies so soon
Waiting for a vision of a white circled balloon
The earth and its rotating moon
Rotating around a universal shaped spoon

And in the full glimmer of the moon
I hear the cries of endangered baboons
I hear the cries of wild life harpooned
While platoons of life watch the moon

Tonight I think only of singing a little tune
Debating if the moon glitters in her misfortunes
If life would only occur on the moon
I could draw it out like a cultural cartoon

[...] Read more

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The tokkelossie

At night when the sun sets
and the dark night folds around the earth
a short man appears,
who is darker than the night
and he waits for the moon to disappear
before he slyly sneaks into places.

His hands are claws
like those of a baboon
and with his long nails
he draws sparks
out of quarts rocks
and as far as he walks,
it sounds like buck hooves trotting
and in his heart
he’s a demon.

At times the dogs see him
and bark and growl,
but far too fast he passes by,

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Mating Mind

So evolution has made the human brain a phallus
A frontal protuberance that is rather callous.

It’s Darwinian lust that turns out these rhymes
For a chance to copulate and have some good times.

To quote a sonnet here and sing a song there,
And to paint a panorama for a procreating pair.

Lines of iambic pentameter are but a farce,
Have no more meaning than a baboon’s red arse.

It’s all in the genes and it’s all in the brain
And love is the demon that drives artists insane.

A picture of a pert breast and a moist massage
The passionate pant from a lingual lavage.

It doesn’t take much to get this member erect
It has bugger all to do with intellect!

[...] Read more

poem by Roy Lee
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A Purchase of Porcelain

Because the king
decrees that every Jew
must buy his wedding-right
in unsold porcelain
from the royal chinaworks,

here he stands, an amorous Jew,
gazing at luminous
suns and moons arrayed
on doths of velvet-blue,
earth that has married fire twice,

that has been shaped and named
for what it comprehends: sherbets, salads,
gravies, desserts. He lifts a platter fine
as alabaster in cathedral windows:
salvation, the passage of light

through bone. Ah, but
not for you, the store-man says.

[...] Read more

poem by Jean Nordhaus
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Looking Uncomfortable

Why didn't you give me a signal?
Before I opened my mouth.
Did you see the picture of their first grandchild,
Before I did?

'Yes, I did.
But your reaction?
Was really out of line.
If you thought the child,
Looked unusual...
You should not have exclaimed,
The child looked like a baboon.
Wrapped too tightly in that blanket.
Looking uncomfortable.
I thought it myself!
But did I say anything? '

No.
No you did not.
But that comment you made,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Climate Of Danger

The middle is the place to stand
If there can be one solid spot,
Undoubted, in that damaged land.
Two schools exist; one says there is
No region lacking hazard, pain,
And fear; the other mentions plains
Enclosed
For those
Wanting more than the perfumed rose.

On one hand, birds and trained baboons
Polish the atmosphere with words
Like slate, rasping and grey. Their moons
Are sterile as their eyes, dull marbles,
Damp and cavern-caught. And evenings
Spread through days of easy grief:
The fall
Of all
Grins from a shaky pedestal.

[...] Read more

poem by Weldon Kees
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