#tarzan - Hello Poetry

Lawrence Hall [email protected] Dispatches for the Colonial Office The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, the Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar I am not at liberty to lay before the inquiring minds of an objective public the manner in which the curious document and chilling testimony below came into my possession except that this was through the offices of a mysterious midnight visitor on business from Porlock with a wooden leg and an ivory eye of curious and antique design – or was that an ivory leg and a wooden eye? – and I must assure the reader that it was the visitor from Porlock who made do with a tapping ivory eye and a sightless wooden leg or sightless eye and tapping artificial leg, not the pleasant village of Porlock, because English villages are possessed of streets and lanes, not eyes and legs, on a stormy night at the time of the equinoctial gales when ships put to sea knowing that they (the crews, not the ships) must place their lives into the hands of our merciful and loving God who knoweth all things and disposeth all things and so now pray take a seat and light your pipe while I set my spectacles aright and read to you this strange narrative entrusted to my discretion and, like, stuff: The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, The Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar In search of The Lost Epsteinian Files Tarzan slipped into a city ruinous and far And in a secret tunnel that ran for miles Stumbled onto The Burn-Bags of Opar Queen Kristi of Opar, long in love with Tarzan Sacrificed to her gods a dog and a goat Then in an armored golf cart chased him as far as she can (Okay, then, you try to rhyme “Tarzan”) To the edge of the Alligator Alcatraz moat Tarzan, exhausted, thought he was a doomer Kristi was sharpening her sacrificial knife (or loading her thirty-thirty; the records are unclear) But she was death-whispered by Laura Loomer Thus saving the burn-bags and our hero’s life And The Epsteinian Files? The mystery no longer abodes - The scripts for Gilligan’s Island, the lost episodes

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Jul 31, 2025

Jul 31, 2025 at 8:13 AM UTC

lawrence-hall

The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, The Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar

Lawrence Hall [email protected] Dispatches for the Colonial Office The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, the Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar I am not at liberty to lay before the inquiring minds of an objective public the manner in which the curious document and chilling testimony below came into my possession except that this was through the offices of a mysterious midnight visitor on business from Porlock with a wooden leg and an ivory eye of curious and antique design – or was that an ivory leg and a wooden eye? – and I must assure the reader that it was the visitor from Porlock who made do with a tapping ivory eye and a sightless wooden leg or sightless eye and tapping artificial leg, not the pleasant village of Porlock, because English villages are possessed of streets and lanes, not eyes and legs, on a stormy night at the time of the equinoctial gales when ships put to sea knowing that they (the crews, not the ships) must place their lives into the hands of our merciful and loving God who knoweth all things and disposeth all things and so now pray take a seat and light your pipe while I set my spectacles aright and read to you this strange narrative entrusted to my discretion and, like, stuff: The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, The Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar In search of The Lost Epsteinian Files Tarzan slipped into a city ruinous and far And in a secret tunnel that ran for miles Stumbled onto The Burn-Bags of Opar Queen Kristi of Opar, long in love with Tarzan Sacrificed to her gods a dog and a goat Then in an armored golf cart chased him as far as she can (Okay, then, you try to rhyme “Tarzan”) To the edge of the Alligator Alcatraz moat Tarzan, exhausted, thought he was a doomer Kristi was sharpening her sacrificial knife (or loading her thirty-thirty; the records are unclear) But she was death-whispered by Laura Loomer Thus saving the burn-bags and our hero’s life And The Epsteinian Files? The mystery no longer abodes - The scripts for Gilligan’s Island, the lost episodes

24

It’s astonishing how you knock me off my feet Enrapture spoken, sentiments we savor as we greet A relishing secret catered for me, my needs, as we mental feast It’s getting harder and harder to breathe Echoes turning, twisting, as they blissfully weave I wish I could take a journey through your mind Dine on the emotions you refuse to hide Cautionary pause, where are you, do you no longer reside Tempting fate of awakening emotions dancing inside my head Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread Dreams of roses, chocolates, wine, a silk covered bed Beautiful images of a love to be shared Where feelings could suddenly vanish into thin air No safety net, no sure bet, hotter than July, to have let Nurses cannot heal thyself I need a quick cure from sipping the tale of Sleeping Beauty’s lover’s cup SOS smoke signals has been sent up Rescue me Destiny, Fate knows I cannot swim Horde of feelings have quickly flooded in Melody of the heart sounds sweeter than the violin No shore, no dry land State of mind standing upon quicksand Tarzan swing me from your vine, refuge needed in this moment in time I need an escape from this deep ocean of carnal designs Mind management, intoxicating as sweet wine, softly trickling from off a grape vine You’ll be the one who brings the pain Bring the umbrella in the pouring rain You’ll be the one who makes me cry Bring me the tissue to dry my eyes You’ll be the one my heart can’t deny Sending my body beyond pleasure while entwined in the sky Whispers in time are arresting, strong Tarzan embrace me, cocoon me with an escape song As I tightly hold onto your body as we swing in ecstasy all night long

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Sep 7, 2018

Sep 7, 2018 at 9:58 AM UTC

MyValentine

Tarzan

It’s astonishing how you knock me off my feet Enrapture spoken, sentiments we savor as we greet A relishing secret catered for me, my needs, as we mental feast It’s getting harder and harder to breathe Echoes turning, twisting, as they blissfully weave I wish I could take a journey through your mind Dine on the emotions you refuse to hide Cautionary pause, where are you, do you no longer reside Tempting fate of awakening emotions dancing inside my head Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread Dreams of roses, chocolates, wine, a silk covered bed Beautiful images of a love to be shared Where feelings could suddenly vanish into thin air No safety net, no sure bet, hotter than July, to have let Nurses cannot heal thyself I need a quick cure from sipping the tale of Sleeping Beauty’s lover’s cup SOS smoke signals has been sent up Rescue me Destiny, Fate knows I cannot swim Horde of feelings have quickly flooded in Melody of the heart sounds sweeter than the violin No shore, no dry land State of mind standing upon quicksand Tarzan swing me from your vine, refuge needed in this moment in time I need an escape from this deep ocean of carnal designs Mind management, intoxicating as sweet wine, softly trickling from off a grape vine You’ll be the one who brings the pain Bring the umbrella in the pouring rain You’ll be the one who makes me cry Bring me the tissue to dry my eyes You’ll be the one my heart can’t deny Sending my body beyond pleasure while entwined in the sky Whispers in time are arresting, strong Tarzan embrace me, cocoon me with an escape song As I tightly hold onto your body as we swing in ecstasy all night long

34

I heard Tarzan Swinging through the jungle Calling the wild ones, The fringe dwellers, With, Ungowa! They answered, Dragging their knuckles Along the I-94, Then stampeding to crown, Their King of Apes.

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Nov 27, 2016

Nov 27, 2016 at 2:11 PM UTC

francie-lynch

Ungowa

I heard Tarzan Swinging through the jungle Calling the wild ones, The fringe dwellers, With, Ungowa! They answered, Dragging their knuckles Along the I-94, Then stampeding to crown, Their King of Apes.

10