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A Simillacrum Feb 2019
Knee slap, diaphragm control,
living room, bass boosted,
ceiling fan casting an X shape,
blonde locks, same songs,
robots & girl futura,
love, ***, existence,
drugs, dancing along
if you find the nerve.
How do I put this
compact view into words?
Fleeting, farewell,
at large, unheard.
What is it that you deserve?
Whatever your meat
tape, twisted, desires.
What is love to me?
To be, at all, near or beside you.
Tragic for me, as millions,
lessons learned eventually
maybe learned too late.
Poetic T Jun 2016
She walked through the streets in her shimmering
dress that hugged her skin as if part of her being.
Speaking in tongue misunderstood by thought she
stared not at you but within you as if she was gauging
the purity of your inner grace.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing alone?

"Where did you fall from,

One goaded, smiling she replied,

"I fell a long way down,

"Dii me ridere, [loosely translated]
"The gods are laughing at me?

She smirks at those in plentiful urgency to expel
what time they have on tribal necessities.
Wondering into a alleyway she had a few to choose
from but this one barely lit.

The spider and the fly came to mind, but who
was in the web and who was but a husk waiting to decay?

"Lady you going to have a bad night,

"Bad night, try bad millennium you apes make me laugh,

"Who you calling ape woman?

"Lets see your hairy, you smell, and you scrape your
hand on the ground, no sorry ape is to good for you organisms,

Her dress seems to separate and he hair lengthens to hide modest
of a body of perfection. before there eyes is an angel but her
feathers are as onyx as coal. "See my true from, As screams
bathe the walls and wisps of smoke ascend not to heaven
but fade in the wind. Eyes are charred echoes of where sight
Was blessed now eroded into husks of nothingness.

"Silly little things, when will they learn that there are things
in the night you shouldn't play with,

Walking out of the alley a smile on her face, she hadn't
had that much fun in a while. Scorching a soul wasn't
fun but they weren't worthy of it any way. Now she
was off to see what this nice little black number
would help to get a free drink or two.
Rustle McBride May 2016
We have the dream when we are falling.
It wakes us up so filled with dread.
I think its our subconscious calling
bringing ancient fears to us in bed.

The dream that is, the dream that was,
is what actually could have been.
No fantasy does what it does.
This is a gift from pre-man men.

Pre-man men, he lived in trees,
swinging, eating, sleeping, too.
Perhaps it was his greatest fear
to break the bough and fall on through.

At night they must have dreamt about it,
so afraid that they would fall.
And passed this dream into our minds
and at night we can recall.

Our collective mind, it is immortal
It won't forget for all of time.
So remember that this dream is but
a monkey on your mind.
Esfoni Jun 2015
All things started with a big bang!
Some label it: Creation! Some: Yin and Yang!
Others say:We sit on the ancestral tree
from which the apes sprang!

And I will not discuss evolution
Or fairytales with you
You are much to important to me
To be monkeying around with
And I would go bananas if I lost you
And I swear by my ancestor's bones
I will not provoke you

Waah , Waah , Waa Waah !
Ooh ! Ooh ! Ooh !

Translated means , "I've gone ape over you !"
Come swing with me on the vines of life
Everyday will be bananas and honey
We can sleep in the tree tops
Gaze at the stars
And pick each other's fleas
Come on baby , Please !
Mokomboso Feb 2015
I've been waiting for you
I pulled you in instantly
Like a magnet
You can't wait to learn
Run home and tell them who you found
You welcome me in
Even though novelty fades
The candle flickers

My intentions were good
And then you borrowed my name
I never meant to touch
Your self image like I had
My intentions are good
I always want to be there
Rub the sleep from your eyes
We're two halves of the same heart

Late night panic attack
4am you're still awake
It was me that sang you to sleep
My face spoke to your dreams
I made my home in your mind
Though you love me you hate
The feeling I tease you with
You just want to live with me
You could've been me

My intentions were good
And you fell back trustingly
I never meant to touch
Your self image like I had
My intentions are good
I only want to be friends
Wakeup, smell the coffee
We're two halves of the same mind

It's safe to cross the bridge
Though the planks bend and brake
I'm shrieking from the river
Life's greener in the south!
Hold my hand and grip tight
We'll climb 30 feet high
Your voice is hoarse from shrieking
As we say our goodnight
About therianthropy.
From the perspective of the animal in question, as if read to the human.
(If the rythm is a bit off it's because I had a tune in my mind from a song I was listening to, so it ended up matching that)
Mokomboso Aug 2014
Hugging tightly to your inanimate love
Swaying it like you should be swayed yourself
Sung a high octave lullaby, to which everyone replies
There are no arms growing out from the woodwool
Only yours, in that little corner of the room, just meant for you
No one to show you how to fight
Your mother, a kid her self didn’t know what to do
All the decisions now made by you
You’re nervous, skittish, delicate and small

Your cousin teases and chases
And your over-reactive screams only prove what I know
You’re at the bottom of the pile, a shunned little child
I’m sure you have highs in between your lows
Did I just come at a bad time?
But it was just like last time
I’m told it’s hard to fit in
For a orphan of your predicament
The youngest shows you kindness and concern
But maybe one day, social climbing is learned
And she’ll be rough as her sister
Plus the maniac crowds can only hinder
It’s a slow process as it is, but this busy air
Will slow you still

I noticed as the day draws on, and the rush has gone
You edge forward a short distance
Underneath a platform, venturing for a second
Tottering back to safety with cries of alarm
You never let go of your woodwool mum
You eat your greens with just one hand
All the other three gripped on tight

It strikes me how pretty you are, a special little face
And ******* marble eyes
A thick frizzy wreath of hair frames your tiny skull
Not one lies out of place
How anyone could not love you, I don’t know
When you’re alone, with only your father
I beckon you over, I'm charmed
You shuffle forward with curiosity
You seem so slightly calmer, you still have far to go
I tell you how sweet you are, pretend to groom your shoulders

Then in crashed Malaika, throwing her weight
How dare you leave your corner space!
She kicks and pushes you, back to where you sat
I try not to make a scene, hold back the urge to intervene
“Shake her hand and be nice!”
We try again a couple more times, peace at last
You watch me still, I take your picture, give you a pep talk
It’s not a sweet life as the underdog
I was a kid like you, unpopular, picked on
But you should know Lopori, you rock!
Lopori is a drop-dead gorgeous two year old bonobo who has problem intergrating with her group because she has no mother. She relies on zoo keepers and her other bonobo family members, and kids being kids, another juvenile (Malaika, featured in another poem) alternates between rough play and physical bullying of Lopori.
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