Sun draped across her legs
crossed beneath her like
folded wings,
The Carnivore watches.

Satan said, 'stay naked as you came,'
so here she sat, white as mushroom,
raw as shrimp.

She leans, a sifted sack of flour, against her wall;
love rising within her like a cloud of mosquitoes,
for here comes her Plant Eater.

In her nakedness she hides,
watching him trot across the floor,
his movements thoughtful and slow as cooling lava,
shrugging on his brontosaurus suit like an old bathrobe.

He has vegetarian ankles,
his bare feet are splashed with mud
like an old truck.

Carnivore that she is, she bursts out of hiding
naked as Satan,
and she demands her heart.

“I do not love you,”
she lies,
and points to the cedar box in his soft hands.
“Now give me back my heart.”

“No.”
he cries,
and runs from her.

She knows the box is locked and has no key,
though the brontosaurus has not been told
that there is no hope
for this particular heart.

He hides from her behind a tree,
but the tree puts down its other leg and walks away
leaving him exposed as the naked Meat Eater
who catches up to him now.

This time,
before she can get to the tying by the wrist to the chair,
he swallows the box
and holds it in his belly.

An omnivore a herbivore
and a carnivore went for
a walk in the desert but
only one of them returned.

At the oasis they stopped
for a drink but there was
no food only vegetation
which the herbivore had.

Hmmm said the carnivore
(to himself) while he and
the omnivore tossed a coin
to decide who'd eat what.

The carnivore won the toss
so it was his choice to eat
either of the other two, but
the herbivore intervened.

He said, I was excluded
while I was having my
fill, so to be fair I should
toss the coin and I choose.

Choose what, the carnivore
said, you wont eat any of
us that is why we left you
out, you are not included.

Ok then, the herbivore said,
I'm not partial to either of
you, yet both of you would
eat me given the opportunity.

In that case, I toss and I will
call heads or tails and I will
decide which one of you gets
to eat me, that seems only fair.

The carnivore and omnivore
agreed to this and with that
the herbivore tossed the coin
up up and it landed in the tree.

He set off up the trunk while
the other two looked on in a
slight state of confusion and
by then they were both hungry.

The herbivore arrived at the
summit and said that he had
found the coin but he couldn't
recall which side he selected.

Tell you what I'll do he said,
I will toss it from here and
as I in the tree, I will decide
who eats who of you two.

Down the coin came flipping
summersaulting and turning
edgeways landing in the sand
in an indecisive position.

Ah well the herbivore said it
means it was a draw so you
will have to come to your own
conclusion I’ve got plenty up here.

A vicious fight ensued at the base
of the tree, they were both wounded
seriously, but the carnivore overcame
the omnivore and began to cannibalise.

Ps

I am stuck for an ending, I need more
time to think about it as I am a vegan
and I want to live to tell the tale.

My life is a simple being. My purpose, a simple endeavor. My goals are a simple feat. I spend my life working and wasting what seems, to you, like years. I am at peace with my simple existence.

As I wander in the front door, a familiar smell smacks my nose. I run to the kitchen as fast as my feet dare to carry me. When I finally reach it I smell your favorite perfume, Rose of the Night. I see your favorite scarf draped up against my chairs and your french toast sitting cautiously on a plate. I hear your golden voice echo through my apartment. I hear your soft footsteps fight the silence. Your seduction calls out to me, but you being the spider and me being the fly causes me to fear you but want you all the same.

You walk out of the room towards me, your white dress skips along the floor. Your eyes beg for my love, your heart but empty yearns to be filled. I feel myself begin to sweat, and I become ****** in to your beauty and your fake love. You come up to me and kissed my lips like you did in
the days when we loved. I began to ask why you came back, but we both knew the truth. Your other lover chose to break you. The man you chose over me broke you, like I said he would. Yet you thought that he was better than me, you thought he was the missing piece of you, though all he wanted was a gift that you wouldn't give.

When I gave you my heart, you treasured it, held it close and gave me back yours. But through time and temptation you broke away and stole away what soul I had left. You ate me alive and now I will not let you keep me here.

"Leave me alone, and next time you come back, bring me back my love so I can keep it from you." I said.
She never forgot me, but she never forgave me. I never let the carnivore take me under again.

i've a pale carnivore,
slaying passively the night
  in my cotton ember
and with velvet detergent she sprays me
***** loose hinges cravenly and pink
and disheveled lips
i split
          unmutable vast minute vines
snare exactly my naked burning crust
    an shuck absolutely
the dull sheathe of my so
unlovely
                 ****

I know because I am, just as you are not.
And you can ask me why I did it,
How I could have committed such an act
Of cruelty, of violence and of brutality,
And I will tell you it is in my nature.
I am a carnivore
And I will eat away at you until there is nothing left.

And you can tell whoever you want
Who is responsible for your undoing,
You can shout it on high
But know that they will never listen
You can scream until your throat is raw, enflamed
And red as the blood which stains your hands
But every time you will be met with silence
As you realise you no longer exist
I am winning this battle.

Just as I was not born for that life,
You were not born for yours,
And she was not born to live a life of sorrow and struggle
We are one,
And we will become even stronger
And I will fight for my life to enforce that,
I will fight as she could not
As all the strength was drained from her
And that light flickered in her eyes
Before fading away,
And leaving her a lifeless bag of bones.

You’re frightened now that you’re losing this war,
You see your power slip through your fingers
But it was naïve to think you could have won;
You are but a small mind and we are the rest.
And you should know that we will show you no mercy,
Just as you were taught from your father,
And his father and his father,
The old men who ruled the world.
But our time is coming,
And we will know real freedom.

It’s something that try we should
To provide the parrot its basic food
Apple minus seeds mango banana
Grape orange guava papaya
As for vegetables cooked dried bean
With beet broccoli its heart you can win
Cucumber carrot and cauliflower
They surely love like they love a shower
Corn on the cob is fun for parrot
They aren’t fussy as them you thought
Hot peppers peapod lettuce
For them delicacies you can choose
Sweet and baked potato well cooked yam
They devour in delight add to their glam
Parrots are cute friendly and nice
Give them oatmeal millet brown rice
They’re not greedy from you they won’t beg
Though these birds love scrambled boiled egg
The parrot is innocent gorgeous and sweet
Can’t call them carnivore yes they like meat
Must talk to them and not keep your mouth shut
Your loving pet the parrot loves occasional nut.

Now words of caution what don’t do them good
Candy and chocolate and all junk food
I know you are smart and not at all mean
To offer this wonder bird mushrooms caffeine
Believe my words they aren’t my opinion
Use them in your food don’t give them onion
Dairy products for them are a big ‘no’ ‘no’
You surely want them to healthily glow
Give the parrot shower keep its cage clean
Give them just fresh foods no sugar no caffeine
Say ‘no’ to pesticides choose only organic
See in their bowel nothing goes toxic
Follow what I’ve said the task is not hard
Spend your time well with this beautiful bird.

You talk about your past lovers like cuts of meat;
The ******* on this one, the thick thighs on that one, the firm *** on the other.
You call them Chicken, Cow, Pig.
You call me Dear.

I walk into your abattoir  of my own accord
and tie myself to the gambrel,
ask you to slaughter me, please, slaughter me.
Always the slaughterer, never the slaughtered,
I want to know what it feels like.

You do as I ask: strip away my skin, slice open my chest, remove my vital organs.
You have to separate my consciousness
from my carcass
to finish.

I am venison, fresh.
You mount my head on your wall
next to the others and
shut my eyes.

Bomb threat
The carnivore and I met

I deplete
Heavy breathing poison
And Nightmare success

Trapped near the clear walls
Concussion
I fall

Lowly walking outside my cage
Loud roars invisible
I’m in the Dark Age

Bomb threat
The carnivore and I met

Pieces of metal leaves
Nature gone
They left
Explosion on edge
No food
Starving this death

Once again
Banging glass
To look within

Fire breathing delusion
Begging
Confusion

Glassy sand
Underneath
Choking
I’m not the sea

Bomb threat
The carnivore and I met
Pieces of metal keys
I’m gone
Explosion
I left.

The wolf is carnivore incarnate
The wolf is the hunter
The lone wolf
The wolf pack
Howling at the moon

The wolf is carnivore incarnate
The wolf is she
Rome built in milk
The wolf is wild
Gentle, cruel

The wolf is carnivore incarnate
The big bad wolf
The wolf is fairy tale
The wolf is nightmare
The wolf is dreams

The wolf is woman

I'm a Tree Huggin', Soy Chuggin',
I won't eat no meat
I'm a vegan of convenience,
Still, there's leather on my feet
I don't believe in lots of things
I'll protest and attack
But you won't find me out in front
'Cause I'll be in the back
I give money to my causes
Save the whales, electric cars
But I'm not one to lead the fight
"Cause I don't like the scars
Bricks get thrown alot you see
And those things ****** hurt
And I'm not a happy camper
When there's blood upon my shirt
I won't eat seeds of any sort
They get stuck in my teeth
My clothes are all from LL Bean
Except what's underneath
Way back in the sixties
I lived communaly
We ate only what the earth gave up
We didn't watch tv
As years passed by, our voices died
Our causes became much rarer
We sounded more like Manilow
Than Phil Ochs or Tom Lehrer
I choose fine wine over wheatgrass juice
I like leather and wear silk
I no longer go and get the goat
So we can have fresh milk
I'm a Tree Huggin', Soy Chuggin',
I won't eat no meat
I'm a vegan of convenience,
Still, there's leather on my feet
I don't believe in lots of things
I'll protest and attack
But you won't find me out in front
'Cause I'll be in the back
I've changed lots since the sixties
I'm a capitalist blood hound
If I said I'm a true vegan
My board would see me drowned
I used to wear just cotton
Hemp and caftans  and blue jeans
Leather shoes and belts and jackets
Were just not part of my scene
My friends, well, they grew up
And others stayed in touch
The ones with money see me
The others not so much
I used to go out jogging
Through the park in puma shoes
Now I workout in a private gym
Wearing nikes and with my  crew
You see I'm still a vegan
When it suits me, don't you see
My new girlfriend likes organic
And she's only twenty three
There's forty years between us
Though I've done it all before
When my girlfriend is not with me
I am a carnivore
I support all of her causes
Though most things I don't attend
I'll be a vegan of convenience
Until our courtship ends
Who knows, what then will happen
Will I eat Tofu or some chops
I know which way I'm leaning
We'll see how that one drops
Like I said when we first started
I am a vegan, so I am
But instead of eating quinoa
I'll stick to eggs and ham.
I'm a Tree Huggin', Soy Chuggin',
I won't eat no meat
I'm a vegan of convenience,
Still, there's leather on my feet
I don't believe in lots of things
I'll protest and attack
But you won't find me out in front
'Cause I'll be in the back

Feed from my soul
Drain me of all life
Take away my happiness
Take away my mind
Grow stronger from my pain
Grow happier from my misery
Show me your way
Show me your hate
Bring me to despair
Bring me to emptiness
Come digest me
Come destroy me
Make me hurt
Make me cry
Sink your teeth into my flesh
Sink your claws into my throat
Carnivore

Skin is but a thin, thin leaf,
Flesh is meat, and meat is good,
Bone is hard, but bone is sweet,
Under that, who knows, who could?

Blood is sour, blood is blue,
Veins are stringy, tasty too,
Heart's a muscle, not the soul,
And I don't mind even lungs at all.


Nerves are tender, tender things,
Pluck them, and make for spicy meal,
Play them as they were guitar strings,
And see how gourmet that soup would feel.

Eyes, oh eyes, exquisite blue,
(Brown and green as well will do,)
Look if what they see is true,
Look before I eat them too.

Hunting has a noble heritage, for sure
Bringing us together, it forged a species
Keen-eyed, communicative, feared by the fierce

               So who am I to begrudge you your sport?
I, too, love wide open skies, tramping over bog and fen,
I even quite like dogs!

I imagine nature might reveal herself to you
In signs jealously guarded from the armchair carnivore.
I can almost reconcile your harsh percussion
With the croak of the raven, the sloshing tide
And the chewing and mooing of cattle.

But the pheasant!  For the love of God, the pheasant?
It can hardly be a battle of wits!
I've seen him as he sits, a big, red bullseye
On fences and *****,
Startled by every day he survives.

How stirring can it be,
Picking off the ones the cars and lorries never got?

When you carry him home,
Better off dead,
Hang him in your garage for a week
Feeling like Henry VIII,
Cut him down, slit him open and find the crop
Stuffed not with heather shoots and beetles
But with half a pound of store-bought grain
(Generously laced with antibiotics) -
I hope the realisation creeps up
That you may as well have asserted yourself
In the hen coop,
Blasting away at befuddled poultry
And saving yourself a walk.

I am a Carnivorous Zebra
I'm the only one of my kind

From the herd I've been cast
Because I just won't eat grass

So behind the strip mall I dine

Big blue boxes are a carnivores dream
As they fill them at the end of each day

With burgers and cheese
Eat as much as you please

Being a carnivore is really OK!

The unscrupulous cavalry shuffled aboard narrow lanes,
Cutting in line towards Jager Bomb's tether,  
Cluttered duffel bags concealing cheap champagnes,
Passing cruise ship commuter's ruffled feathers.

With their fake, "excuse me's" en route to the bar,
Coercing the conductor who's been under the weather
With smug smiles and counterfeit Cuban cigars.

Leaving the harbor three sheets to the wind
The cowards commandeered Grandparents pool chairs,
A little past midnight with no foresight of end,
An abrupt brawl broke out, fists flying through air.

A sightseeing whale trip turned into a ship from hell,
The assailants now held in a South of Wales cell.

Sweetheart--singles' night
Slick fake leather dream.
The long pink cigarette choked between
Passion-fire red top
And hell bent bottom lip

Delicious breath--
A car crash in your eyes.
The spike-heeled goddess who never loved roses.
You show your eye teeth in that
Slo gin smile.

Those thighs of yours speak to me
In another illegal language
A freight train made of flesh.

I used to stand, a little girl,
In the face of the mighty River,
And try my luck against the current,
Till my thin frame would shiver.
The River was a muscled god
Of milky Grecian marble,
Who'd swallow up the flotsam,
While the safer songbirds warbled.
My mother told me "stay away,
The River, he is hungry,
He'll twist you round and break your bones
And take your sweet self from me."
And, from then on, I'd heed her word,
And steer clear of the River,
Or throw in sticks to harm it,
Vainly, watch them be devoured.
And sometimes, when the rain came down
For long days at a time,
The River would rise from his bed,
To drown all that was mine.
So he got many over on me,
And I, nothing on him.
The River was so sly, you see,
The Devil, just too slim.
And then I grew up proud
And beautiful, and moved away,
To a moneyed place in the northern states,
Where the River stayed away.
But I met a man just like that Body
Rolling, roiling, wild,
That took and drowned all I did have
And left me with a child.
And my mother took me in again,
And told me just the same,
To shun the River, guard myself,
A man's worse than his name.
I took to daring, once again,
That arctic current down,
I'd dip my toes in evening time,
And smooth my forehead's frown.
I'd talk to him, my belly swole,
Confide in the River wild,
I prayed to God in the water's hearing,
That I did not need the child.
The River told me he would help,
That I could use his ways,
For he wanted only sacrifice,
And I wanted not the blame.
So I waded in, the hands of water
Cupped beneath my thighs,
And the River's water turned blood red,
And my eyes rolled to the sky.
Now I live alone again.
Playing mother was not my lot.
The River took my baby in,
Because my arms could not.

With the onset of the sun in the horizon, the little creatures awake
And dance and sing melodies tantamount to a group of chortling people
Oh, how i wish such convival sights be captured
And played back on repeat everytime you feel low

As vagabonds they fly in search of food and shelter
And when the sun does set, off they disappear in their nests
Robbing the nature of its beauty
For every day they have to give a survival test(from their carnivore counterparts)

The broke pigeon was no different, her eyes gleamed better than Cindrella's did
The vicissitudes of life had rendered it to be a mendicant.
But she was a resilient creature and she continued her fight everyday
Her condition started to exacerbate when she laid 4 snow like eggs

Gathering twig by twig and working for an entire afternoon meticulously
She made a perfect home for her babies which were about to hatch
Be it a human or a bird, mothers always foster the children
Off she slipped into a reverie of a bright future with her kids

But the evil nature had its own sinister plans
Her thoughts were interrupted by a cacophony of sounds of other birds
She knew the sound was ominous
Peeping out of the nest she saw a dozen eagles encircling the tree

Her blood ran cold, she wrapped the eggs around her and a teardrop made its way from her eye
The leader of the eagles stoop towards her and hit her with a beak
The broke pigeon pleaded for its life saying-"I will offer myself to you as soon as my kids learn to fly"
The Machiavillian eagle agreed at first, flew up high,leaving the broke pigeon to heave a sigh of relief

The sigh was a short lived one as it swoop down with two other eagles on the broke pigeon
Performing an act of utter perfidy, there was a sly smile on its face
Turn by turn they devoured the broke pigeon
And kicked the eggs down the nest

It was a brutal ******, much more heinous than the ones we see
But there was none to witness the fate of the broke pigeon
And even if there were, they'd never know the events that transpired
Never know.. never know.. never know..

My face tells me nothing. Not nothing but nothing useful, the
complications of ageing humorously but not exactly how to avoid
injury.

Permanent injury is a now popular cliché. At this age any injury
could result in pneumonia, pain in bitterness for your peers,
your jury.

What a headache I have! And never forget injury provokes
at best only pity. Friends are merely friendly, they belong to the
majority.

They forget your name and so should you, who are you? Even you
don't know for sure. In relation to community, no change was noted in
      the
registry.

Still, man's mercy, economy's ecology, there's some joy in being small,
some joy in staying strong, and keeping death before you without
perjury.

Unsafe to run the wind. A big stick might hit your head. Then
the hip and heart and head will hurt, all three. Un-
fortunately.

I like a strong wind. Dangerous to go out in. As a fire or flood.
I like the way we are at risk, not a risk-averse weasel. A carnivore,
very hungry.

Pay money, take chances. Yo's an elegant contraction of you.
Cool. Message from street to board: mongrels rule. Democracy or
tyranny.

Scared to die? Why? Take appropriate measures, descend through
meditation. Be empty, rest. And to your friends and sons be as
gravity.

Tired of death. It's what it is. Let's play sports, have ***, kayak
to the huckleberries, fish for marvelous fish, live a wonderful life, give
generously.

Done blowing, O wild wind? Not yet? So be it. I lay my head
in your felt hands. The motion of the branches, evolutionary branches,
      are my
guarantee.

That's all folks, 7:30. The sky is clear, the crows are out. The clouds
are with my mood commensurate. I should shout, having lived
prodigiously.

in the night that shadows my gloom
encouraged by whiskey, cigarettes
and the seeking of an empty room.

****** me,
give me no promise of tomorrow.
hurt me, use me, tell me something untrue.
hit me, choke me, pull back my hair
unwind my body
untie my mind from there.
cry for me, bite my lip
grind me from the side
trace my hip
tell me im **** then tell me im wrong
this fragile notions ive foreseen for so long

times will change and time will pass
now, its time for me to get over what couldnt last
i know you look at me and see her aching stare
but this is the night you needed me
and i finally didnt care.

did it work?
I give a useless tug on my skin, done to reassure me
instead it reaffirms to me:

I am, again, inconsolable.

is the mask I wear today sealed on tight? too tight?
does it hurt to pretend so much?

does it seem clear to anyone else that there are loose ends I've yet to tend to? backdoors I've overlooked?
transparencies?    can they see through me?

I bare my teeth. canines, canines from the days of carnivores.
am I that carnivore? in my genes I am.

and in practice?

inconsolable, uncontrollable
barely a threat in her form.

this question comes to me under many guises:
an old man asking me: are you that of practice or are you that of genes?
a professor lecturing: are you that of cultivated identity or that of inherited form?

my concerned friends crying:
who are you?
is your mask anything like you?

and then i wake.
it's a terror turned nightly chorus.
recurring nightmares, doctors offer.

i admit i know the content of my dreams to be unfounded:
in life there are no physical masks that do the jobs my terrors depict.
no veil to hide the contours of each flawed personality, no mask to others, just me, weeping-in-the-bathroom, never-myself me

and those attempted favours to be like one another
i'll be like you so you'll like me
i'll like you because i'm like you

so the body charges on in this society like a mirror
cross your left leg when she crosses her right, fold your arms when she's folded hers, raise your hand to say hello, raise your hand to say goodbye

a kiss on the right cheek, a kiss on the left, one more on the left
this is how you show love and a greeting all at once

fold your arms over each other, this is sympathy, this is greeting, do you take comfort in this too?

so you learn to speak with your arms, and you learn to speak with your legs, and you learn to speak with your face, and you learn to speak with your head.

soon your eyes are apprentices of acquaintances, learning to borrow looks like library books, take on others' stories like they've read them end to end.

so in the middle of this process you learn to effectively say:
i see you, i hear you, i perceive you.

and in these attempted favours, at the end of your night terrors, is the parrot that they want to see. the parrot that you argue, can't really be me.

She makes herself present when you need her most,
not to boast, but this tasty delight will treat you well as she continues to host.
She doesn’t give herself away too much,
****, if it was up to me I’d cop more than a touch;
A squeeze, a whole late night session, to indulge in her taste of imperfections,
Eat her up til I obtain a dental infection.
Not my intention, but her silhouette alone breeds thoughts of sin,
what I would give, to have her all to myself, wouldn’t know where to begin.
Undress her slowly as she teases me,
And repeatedly, she teaches me to treat her with care and show some decency.
But I can’t concentrate, she has my mind in a figure-four,
I'm a carnivore, but she exposes her flesh and I want more and more.
Its all been done before, but in this moment I’m in bliss,
I reminisce, as I write this, and continue to lick her residue off my lips.
She brings so much variety, all of them eyeing me,
Which will I give into as I inspect each of them quietly.

Sometimes she comes bittersweet, sometimes she’s a freak,
But most of the time she’s in a bad mood cuz I just wana beat, or rather eat.
Our relationship is never bland, she always keeps it fresh and new,
If it gets monotonous she won’t even hesitate to bring a friend or two.
She keeps my hands full, and that’s no easy achievement,
But she brings so much to the table its hard to not fiend it.
My favorite color on her, has to be green, not to be obscene,
But I’d tear her up as if though she was in a different team, knowwhatimean?
And after that delight there wouldn’t be much of her left,
Not to be greedy but Im not sharing until I know there’s more to come next.
If not, I’m vexed, I mean, I’m not addicted but I wouldn’t mind another round,
That’s not being spoiled I just want to know what other delights could be found.
Don’t be selfish and sadden me,
give me a taste so I can eat you up casually.
Oh miss candy, you’re just too fancy,
let me get a grip and I’ll put you on the walls like Bansky.

Mon papa, c'est le plus fort des papas.
Mon papa, c'est le plus beau des papas.
Mon papa, même quand il est fatigué, on dirait Richard Gere.
Mon papa, même si il est carnivore, moi, je l'aime quand même.
Mon papa, quand il mange, on dirait qu'il a 5 ans, mais moi, je l'aime quand même.
Mon papa, il a des voitures super cool qui font vroom.
Mon papa, quand il conduit, on dirait Michel Vaillant, même pas peur.
Mon papa, quand il me dit bonne nuit, j'ai même plus peur.
Les monstres sous mon lit, eux, ils se désintègrent avec la force des bisous de mon papa.
Mon papa, parfois, il ronfle et je l'aime quand même.
Mon papa, quand on est dans la piscine, il joue au crocrodile avec nous.
Mon papa, quand il porte des choses, les manches de sa chemise se déchire sous les   muscles.
Mon papa, avec une barbe, on dirait un homme des caverne, c'est trop cool.
Mon papa, quand il fait des câlins, on disparait sous ses couches d'amour.
Mon papa, quand il nous emmène faire du shopping, il supporte des heures et il sourit.
Mon papa, il nous laisse faire des trucs qui lui font peur, mais il veut nous faire plaisir, alors il dit oui.
Mon papa, il m'a laissé faire du saut en parachute, et je suis même pas morte.
Mon papa, il râle parfois mais on sait qu'en fait, c'est parce qu'il nous aime.
Mon papa, même quand il voyage, il pense à nous.
Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage avec des photos tout le temps quand il travail.
Mon papa, il nous emmène en voyage tout le temps quand il est en vacances.
Mon papa, il fait des trucs de papa trop génial.
Par exemple, il connait nos restaurants préférés, et il sait ce qui nous fait plaisir.
Alors il nous y emmène.
Mon papa, même quand il est en colère, il est beau.
Mon papa, quand il sourit il est comme Thor, le dieu du tonnerre, il est puissant.
Du coup, parfois, ma maman elle fait un nervous break down.
Parce que mon papa il est trop beau c'est même pas normal.
Mon papa, il a un double menton pour que si un jour Game Of Thrones arrive dans la vraie vie, on pourra pas lui trancher la gorge.
Mon papa, il fait du vélo plus vite que le Tour de France. La preuve, ca fait des années qu'ils sont en France, mon papa, lui, il est déjà à Dubai.
Mon papa, parfois il oublie notre anniversaire quand on lui demande au pif, mais il oublie jamais de le souhaiter, donc on lui pardonne.
Mon papa, il voyage en first class.
Mon papa, il connait les aéroports mieux que James Bond.
Mon papa, il regarde des series TV de jeunes.
Mon papa, il porte des costards.
Mon papa, il nous emmène manger des dans endroits incroyables.
Mon papa, il nous emmène dans des hôtels de luxe.
Mon papa, il devrait être président du monde.
Mon papa, il est mieux que les autres papa parce que c'est le mien.
Mon papa, il est irremplaçable.  
Mon papa, si on m'en donnait un autre, j'en voudrais pas.
Mon papa, je veux que celui la.
Mon papa il est pas toujours là, mais c'est pas grave, parce qu'il est jamais ****.
Mon papa, il traverse le monde mais après il nous raconte, alors c'est cool.
Mon papa, il fait une super vinaigrette. Dommage que j'aime pas la vinaigrette.
Mon papa, quand il fait un barbeque, ca fait beaucoup de fumée et pas beaucoup de feu, mais c'est pour mieux nous impressioner quand il fait rôtir la viande.
Mon papa, il parle Anglais.
Mon papa, c'est le meilleur papa du monde.
Mon papa, je l'aime, même si maintenant, il a presque un demi siècle.
Mon papa, c'est comme un druide.
Ca meurt jamais.
C'est trop cool.
Mon papa, c'est comme une mode indémodable, tu veux jamais le remplacer, il est toujours tendance.
Mon papa, on peut pas le comparer a une mode fashion, parce que c'est un humain.
Mon papa, c'est le meilleur humain que je connaisse.
Avec ma maman et ma soeur et mon chat, mais chuuuuut.
C'est un secret.
Mais ce que je préfère à propos de mon papa, c'est que dès que je le vois, je peux lui dire:
"mon papa, je l'aime."

I understand your taste for meat
But is your thirst for blood so cheap?
Your hunt so deep?
Your drop so steep?
So absent is your love for me?
You'd feast on your own family?

Thylacinus Cynocephalus.
Tasmanian Tiger, Tasmanian Wolf,
A crepuscular hunting nocturnal beast,
Carnivore by nature, feasted upon wallaby,wombats and roos,
Caught by female of the species,
Was he a feline or a lupine beast, hyena perhaps,
No, this strange creature now probably extinct was marsupial with pouch,
Female with pouch to grow her young, male had pouch of his own,
Protected his crown jewels within a scrotal pouch,
Appearance of a stripy dog,
Looked rather like a tiger,
Had amber eyes filled with fire,
This diamorphic beast, (Means the chap was larger)
Had four toes on hind feet and rigid tail of kangaroo,
It's gait was rather odd,
Could move like kangaroo, if it so desired,
Strange call, a guttural sound, alerted his family when he was abound,
Shy secretive little creature,
Kept himself locked out of sight,
For in the late 188os, early 1900s these creatures had a bounty on their heads,
The bounty hunters had such fun, left our world with nearly none,
Last beast in the wild as noted,shot by gun by Mr Batty,
1936 the last captive creature died in Hobart Zoo,
Reported name was Benjamin,
Book called The Djin-jum Man, said man, Batty man maybe, was cursed for killing the last of their kin,
Poor things,
Living legacy remains,
On Tasmania's coat of arms, two of these fine beasts support the islands emblem,
Probably gone but never overlooked,
Still being sought but never found!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
This was really difficult, hope its quite accurate!

You are a carnivorous plant
Seeking to consume any beautiful thing that comes near you.
Not for survival,
But for the mere thought of it.
Your brain is your host and your body feeds off it,
Even the thoughts that make your stomach sick,
But you continue because you feel you have to,
Because they tell you to.
So feed off me you vicious animal,
Tell me you need me only to drop my bones beside your feet
And lick your teeth clean.
I am nothing to you nor am I anything to myself,
I am nothing to everyone else.
So continue on your way and consume my every thought,
And I will regenerate myself just as I always have before.
So tear me apart only to put me back together,
And then rip me apart again.

The End Times

Repent, the zealot dinner guest, invited
For purposes of theological correctness, chides.
Repent, and sin no more, he advises, for the end is near.

But isn't that like asking a carnivore to turn vegan
Moments before the serving of  a pampered calf's liver
I ask

he takes special care in the fall of a sparrow
The zealot replies, eyeing me as I set
My peas to one side with my fork.

Yes, but it was just that one, I retort.

His first.

tizz is love it or hate it, nuttin' in between
addicted to yayo like sheen, 500 bpm heartbeat
don't do it anymore, but remain psychotic
and hunt down idiotics like a carnivore

from florida to berlin, from tropic to toxic
deep in da game, da grimy streetz know my name
it'z tizzop, 14.8 inchez of hip-hop

hangin' at rashid'z, shisha ready, cuban necklace
three men in da back but ya don't know who it iz
all of 'em are dark-skinned, all of 'em are bearded
most important of all: all of 'em are fearless

we don't know what it meanz to be scared
just some migrantz who will now be heard
da territory split up: kurdz, arabz and turkz
we got our own law, like omerta, like da cosa

one apartment here, and one block' there
like bushido did, back in da dayz wit fler
sonny black carlo, godfatherz, yeeeah

power is about makin it and takin it, unlike nine said
unlike any other guy said, and if ya don't wanna buy it
find ya eyez in da wine-red, da choppaz are wild catz
ya can use them for da furiouz, some become notoriouz

otherz don't and die, but dey will be honored:
watch da muralz; urban networkz, also in da rural,
and five-o just remainz neutral; it is crucial to be brutal
as it iz to remain truthful; lyricistz can't deal wit diz
g-boy attitude of tizz: letz celebrate diversity
and ante up on google, i write barz and do diz
i'm a little too youthful for these oldskoolish

I think with my heart;
not my head
in my hand
or buried deep under the sand.

Because when everything comes from the core,
i don’t need to wonder any more.
Thinking is not a chore:
like folding laundry into a tidy drawer.
But that’s what draws our glass floor,
and causes us to continully snore.
But what we chose to ignore,
should be infact, exactly what we adore.
Then maybe we’d ask for an encore
instead of a 24/7 drug store.

_______

To you, i may be a boar,
but we must bust down the door.
Stop fighting the war!
Live for evermore(
if we wish to soar).

_____

But today our biggest sore
may be the us marine corp.
i hurt for their souls, scattered galore.

it is i who they fend for,
it is why their blood continues to pour.
But that doesn’t effect you,
because it happens on another shore.

Your questions? i have answer for,
but please don’t ask me the baseball score.
Those fact are not in my houses’ decor,
all forms of politics, i choose to ignore.

__________

You can call me a dinosaur,
regardless, I am not a cannibalistic carnivore.

_________

I know you may ridicule,
but i prefer to be the recluse,
only coming out, when looking for a spruce.

So, when i do explore,
you will not find me with the busy bodies,
you will find me with the mircoscopic spores.
After all, it's we they provide for.

After this adventure, i know they swore,
they could create me a commodore.
On our yaht, somewhere offshore.
There would be no more war.
just hugs, tugs, and kisses galore.

Before, I was a skeptic, *******.
i now believe holeheartedly in folklore.
My faith in prewar,
is now eternally restored.

Because mother against man always out scores,
that is why i look no more.
Nature is my only mentor.

________

now, i see myself as a matador.
i can be anything,
that is the underscore.