Skip to main content

B is for Monkey and the Idol

monkey swings from the idol
his hand, a tropical breeze
monkey swings from the idol
"monkey, do as you please."

monkey laughs at devotees
monkey laughs at the child
monkey laughs at his own heart
who begs him, 'stay for a while'

monkey see, monkey doux doux darling
ran away with his life
monkey heart was the next to go
and with it, all monkey's strife.

monkey waits for the night's fall
his eyes are wide like a well
monkey talks to the cold wind
on the idol where they both fell

idol asks, 'what you want, boy?'
monkey just shrugs his head
cold wind asks, 'what you need, boy?'
monkey just swings instead

flightless bird climbed the idol's frame
and brought monkey some hot tea
monkey drank and then fling the cup
nothing satisfies he.

cold wind stole for monkey a coat
and plopped it right on his frame
monkey draped the idol
monkey's face was the same.

idol sighed and the cold wind smirked
while monkey curled on its head
not a tree or a bush will do
the idol was monkey's bed. 

idol smiled as the monkey snored
the sound of a crashing sea
monkey swings from the idol
"monkey, do as you please."

Pax
Tracy j H
April 08th, 2014
Monkey and the Idol. (A Terran Folksong by tjh)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

B in Future Traditions

THE COPY: I was sitting down listening to Norah Jones’ “Come Away with Me” and I began to think about future traditions. I thought… I want to sway with someone. Sway with my lover. To this music. More than that, I want that when we had an argument (and we’d have those because she’d be stubborn and I’d be pig headed (iChuckle)) we would never go to bed angry. We’d pop open a lover’s CD like this one and just sway. We may be as mad as hell but we would sway because we would never want to go to bed angry. And our children would know this. And they would never allow their partners to go to bed angry either because… well, because they would know better. They would sway. They would know it was better to sway. That’s the kind of man I want to be. Moreover, that’s the kind of tradition I’d like to pass on. Future Traditions. What's Yours?

B is for The League of Extraordinary Cutlasses

So Facebook is mourning. Why? A child was snuffed out. How does modern man respond? By blacking out their profile picture. So Facebook is mourning. Why? Crime has reached intolerable levels for the people of a twin island republic. How does civilized, contemporary society respond? By copying and pasting stern status updates. WE WILL NOT TAKE THIS! SEND A STRONG MESSAGE! COPY AND PASTE THIS ON YOUR STATUS IF YOU WANT A CHANGE! Not denying that social media has its power. After all, just yesterday I read of a man who – in honor of Facebook’s role in the Egyptian Revolution – named his first child, Facebook. We do not deny that Youtube and the Twitter was a beacon for Tehran, but do note, these social media enterprises merely acted as a catapult for an already serious war on injustice. My people however… are not that serious. Thus I have decided on a far more satisfying approach. Ladies and Wilderbeasts, I give you, The League of Extraordinary Cutlasses. An organization geared towards ...

B is for The Etch-A-Sketch

I’ve always thought of the Universe as a big, big mouth. And when you make a statement, it opens wide to receive it. It (the universe) rolls it in its mouth and then spews it back out in a more interesting form. Say for example, me. I said once, I want to try/experience everything at least once. And through a series of [un] fortunate events, I have experienced some real heights. I said… I want to do everything. this brought on a wonderful debate with a friend of mine who explained to me in all honesty that iCan’t do everything. Enter John Locke’s voice screaming to the world – “don’t tell me what I can and cannot do!” But he was right though. My dear friend, not John Locke. Maybe. I can’t do everything. Except I probably could. Of course when given the opportunity to try my hands and attempting the everything, I feel my tongue lean back into my oesaphagus, and slowly gallop tactlessly down my arse. Yes… I am aware of how that sounds. I’ve performed poetry at various locations. I’ve pub...