"chimps" poems
*** was transmitted from chimpanzees to humans,
Eating chimp meat in Africa they thrived,
Most not realizing the sanctity they destroyed,
And chimps got it from mangabey meat,
New SIV+SIV gave *** at the lethal end for humans.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
Tree of proto-monkeys,
brand and banded under Monkey King,
so clever, so adaptive
in substance and doing -
mushrooming in variants:
lemurs, monkeys old and new,
orangutans, gorillas, chimps,
and one big bushy brood
of extincted ***** brothers and you.
Trekking upright into dale,
valleys and over hills too
sore in feet to image
dragging a knuckle or two.
Scavengers making way,
scanning for patterns in
food moving or not,
adaptive doing from fin
to opposable rock.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 1:04 PM UTC
***** winds scorching through
You've taken a single step, it's already heating up.
An unbound elemental temptress, filled to the brim with confidence....
Overflowing even.
Every man in here wants you; everyone fixated on your body to fulfil their deepest desires and fantasies.
They cavort around you like chimps in heat, just looking for a taste...
They can't afford you, you're not interested in small game.
You lock eyes with him, the only one. He's sitting in the back of the room, not even glancing your way: He'll regret not giving you his attention.
Striving over to the table next to him, you strike fiercely with your most seductive look, the flames of passion rolling off your tongue as you introduce yourself. A casual nod returns your best efforts with crushing force.
You can't believe his audacity, you storm out of the club grabbing the nearest guy available, he'll get lucky tonight.. That'll show him.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I see her walk into the club, with an arrogance, she looks stunning, her personality is so unkempt: a source of altercation among the rabble, causing a cacophony wherever she strides.
I'm not here to flirt or pull, I'm here for a night with my friends, I'm here for social interaction; not ****** She has plenty of others to give her attention, mine is not required to complete her night.
After mere moments, I fear she's noticed my lack of interest, and with a twinkle and a flash, she's a table away from me: giving me her most seductive charm. I resist and return to my conversations, lest this burning seductress better my willpower and ****** me like so many other snakes.
A scalding flash in her eyes that heat me to hundreds of degrees, a piercing, penetrating gaze... She huffs and grabs the arm of the nearest man.. He's getting lucky tonight, good for him. I return to my friends with the image of that succubus eternally burned into my mind.
Jan 11, 2011
Jan 11, 2011 at 6:18 PM UTC
/ what is, exactly,
the concept of fame,
within the confines...
sorry... asylum... of
the species of SUPER-POWERED
JACKED-UP chimps?
merely fungus elevation
with steroids to boot?
anti-german to the point
of anti-deutschesprechen?
my english neighbour
is this close ( )
in teaching me
the arithmetic of my right hand...
i can't get over it...
he can't look me in
the eyes,
but has to bypass talking to
me, ******** over my mother?
a fifty year old
can't look me in the face,
and has to talk down to my
mother?
sorry...
is this an englishman?!
a grown man, can't face me,
eye to eye and tell me
his grievances?!
he has to bypass
honour, dignity, courage,
using a woman?!
******* ****
thankfully the blank
pixel space is where i vent
out my anger,
rather than, unlike the stereotype
of a caveman dragging
a woman by her hair...
me? middle and ring finger...
dipped into the mouth...
and then dragged...
never mind biting along
the way...
but i'd drag the **** of a "man"
with those fingers lodged in
its mouth...
to the nearest whipping
point...
and scold him...
until a leather belt would feel
like pouring boiling water
onto his buttocks!
- this is not an englishman...
this is...
a ******* cookie,
a Y.A.
"protagonist".
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 11:31 PM UTC
If not to tempt the temperaments of lesser men, I shall bludgeon the object of our obsessions again, just to watch the reddened britches go un-itched, as my grinning is met with dissatisfaction, impacting the over expressed whining of gentle wimps, flailing, and stomping as disgruntled chimps, flinging feces from the cages again.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
Bonobos chimps
Live conflict free
Through mutual ***
Dogs make pacts
Through playing games
With instagram smells
Cats connect
Gland to gland
Cheek to cheek
Worker bees
Leaf-cutter ants
Naked mole rats
Honey hive
Tropical trail
Tunnel twists
We obstruct
We confound
We distract each other
Our entropy portrait shows
The not civilized need
To nurture our nature
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
If I was granted just one wish,
for how we'd spend our lives,
I'd have to give it so much thought,
till perfect plans arrive.
We could be lovers on the wing,
soaring through the air,
but I think flight is overrated,
there's lots more we could share.
We could be swingers in the trees,
laughing with the chimps.
I'm sure we'd be entertained,
but there's so much more to glimpse.
We could see the great savannah,
stampeding cross the plains,
being one with mother nature,
but I'm sure we'd be drained.
I think we're more like little otters,
splashing playfully.
Holding hands we rock to sleep,
we'll never drift at sea.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 10:34 AM UTC
goodbye poetry
some get none
now to write for a cause and not applause
majoring in alienation
hijack a popular avatar
just for a pyrrhic victory
put everything into the microwave
universal wealth care
***** it all
ensuring that all this isn't for everyone
only the best continue following
gone to get a life
(aka self-inflicted pain experience)
real life just dragged on and on
the same names keep coming back
observing their well-established cliques
like an anthropologist observing chimps
that glorious era
when the streams of consciousness
suffered a drought
maelstrom of ragnarok
took summer off life support
tasty
electoral fraud as a way of life
just shredded all the "yes" votes so nobody would know
looking to buy an extremist audience
and wondering if maybe walmart has one
the carnage has just begun
seething rage into the vault
tabs opened to liveleak videos of beheadings
all that freedom and she says "vanilla, please"
ideas with which everyone agrees
ideas embraced by all
everyone loves megalomania
everyone enjoys violent passion
everyone loves paroxysms
90 percent of you don't actually exist
low intelligence levels in all but four followers
make that five
hail eris hail discord hail chaos
mark all as read
mark all as ******
trapped in a vicious cycle
eating white toasted bread and acting all stable
invisible at last
discovered a way to speak
freely without judgment
discovered a way to avoid
positive feedback
sitting down for lunch with two popes
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
A political party.
A chimps tea party.
Balloons and streamers.
Fantasy dreamers.
Stitched up firmly with red tape.
While as the lowly dregs, they ****
Muppets and puppets, with tangled up strings.
Talk full on ******** 'bout all sorts of things.
Which ones are the worst?
A political conundrum.
A chamber of Lords, full of bent swords.
Fanfare for the common man?
You'd like to think you flaming can.
Just a bunch of knobs and snobs!
(c) Livvi
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
When humankind is out of control,
The world suffers a giant loss.
Threats of mass extinctions aren't
Difficult to come across.
More than half of the world's primates
Are on the verge of extinction due
To agriculture, logging, mining,
And hunting. Where's the hullabaloo?
Lemurs, chimps, orangutans,
And lowland gorillas are under threat.
When we endanger others, we also
Endanger ourselves, don't forget.
Habitat loss, climate change,
Wildlife trade…. Scientists fear
That if these are not halted, many
Primates will sadly disappear.
We're talking about numerous species--
A couple hundred, not just dozens.
What is wrong with **** sapiens?
How could we do that to our cousins?
-by Bob B (2-6-17)
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 9:47 AM UTC
RESPECT
Mr C Penguin the head of the house
Wears a uniform and listens to Strauss.
Seals plonked by the door as a draught excluder.
Chimps are taking tea in the parlour Room.
Judging how many cakes they can consume.
“Get a brush Foxy and sweep up those crumbs,
I will be charging them double when the time comes”
Mr Badger making endless trays upon trays of cakes
For the ignorant posh chimps and the mess thy make.
“Bag the goose and send the felloe to me,
I will give the chimps something to do for free”
The penguin cracked his knuckles and gave a cough
He had told the chimps he had taken the day off.
“The goose is here” half smiling “the goose is here”
The chimps shook, gulped and felt a trifle queer.
The goose frog marched in and the chimp went limp
“Right you posh lot, eat nicely is that clear chimp”
“I’m not old fishy pengy” he snapped straightening his wing,
“no hanky panky on my watch, nothing, no anything.
“I run a tight ship chimp, my rules old chum.”
The chimps heard right and put an end to the fun.
“Respect, respect,” the goose patrolled his little space
The chimps now ashen with a worried look on their face.
It is all about respect
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC
*oh sure, they have their: preservation of the d.n.a. arguments...they have the chimps, and the zoos... me? what am i after? the ultiamte sleep, namely death... i just want sleeeeeeeeep... **** the dreaming bits... i alway found the act of dreaming to be exhausting when it came to drawing blanks... mortality is exhausting; at least in terms of "immortality" i can take a massive blank-slate yawn... and forget both man and chimp... i always think of an epitaph in terms: what's the last song i'll be listening to when i drop dead? grand comfort.*
and to think,
that so much
goes
into writing
so little,
and that only
the least
of all possibilities
ever
conjured,
makes-up
a novel
that serves
a 100 years...
as i was i testing
the idea...
fire-eyed...
"crying"...
when
in fact trying
to testify
some other
worth to also
claim origins
without
a clue regarding
tattoos...
that might
direct me
by a compass
bias...
to me it's still
the year 1997,
when diana died...
the crime?
economic migration...
father and mother
in handcuffs...
the home-office,
and me punching
the wall...
if
the greek hated
moral relativism...
then the modern
us
should abhor
historical relativism...
islam loves
historical relativism...
oh **** me,
sure as ****
islam loves
historical relativism
in the same way that
ancient greeks
hated
moral relativism.
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 9:23 PM UTC
unlike some psychadelic advocacy
concerning chimps...
how about "hunting"
for chanterelle or honigpilz
and then pickling them?
no good?
well... my idea of an evolved
chimp, or taking psychedelics...
wrapping a leather belt,
over your eyes...
beckoning the absolute night...
that the simple,
silk, or cotton blindfold of
the Versailles court, simply can't,
replicate...
no latex... no condoms...
leather belt,
prior to a boxing glove
hiding the knuckles in
st. Andrew's X...
but then... over the eyes...
leather...
and yet... people ingest
psychedelics...
yet... do not feel inclined to
pay secular respect of:
NOT HAVING TO *******
WRITE ABOUT THEIR EXPERIENCE!
having read what was or wasn't
said?
let them pass the needle...
i'm pirate ******* happy
with a bottle of *****
no... my psychedelic
experience?
wrapping a leather belt on
my head and over my eyes...
now...
oh my, oh my my my...
i'm starting to see the lost
excess of colo(u)r!
i'm seeing it!
i must have been a Daltonist
all along!
given:
how can you actually add...
to the given colours?
i've seen one sadist give an LSD
tab to a cat...
i'd love to give such an example
of a "human"...
the mad cow disease virus...
just to see him break-dance,
and find himself...
with a few broken extensions,
should he survive...
my idea of psychedelic drugs?
a leather belt,
strapped to my head,
heavily over my eyes...
preventing me to blink...
given...
that i see the world in colour...
my absolute psychedelic
experiment?
pitch-black,
and then...
a return to: alice in wonderland
eyesight.
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 11:18 PM UTC
so now in these times
when the corporations run our lives
and the religions run our after-lives
we are faced with the touch stone
of both factions
art
painting
sculpting
dance
theatre
film
photography
music
writing
and
poetry
too
art
by any measure
the difference between us
and the chimps in the jungle
but in these times
of corporations and religion
run by soulless men
who have no time for excess
and no time for
thought
where can it
exist?
art is the essence
of human over-flow
now not always fighting for food
now not afraid of the bumps in the night
now not a chimp in the jungle
we are more
and that more slopes off
to form:
art
the poems
the paintings
the plays
are all just excess
but there are important
because without the release
all that pent-up excess
would eventually
explode
killing us or
something
worse
right now
art has been found by
the corporations
and
the religions
and they’ve turned huge profits
for it
but art isn’t about profit
and it isn’t about art
art is about killing those nasty things
that grow up in the cracks of the sidewalk
when you leave it alone for too long
art is about finding the needle in the haystack
art is understanding why we exist at all
but now we live in a time of
corporations
and
religions
run by soulless men seeking
to turn a profit
and as long as we live
in this age
art can
have
no
purpose
Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 6:27 AM UTC
as he sat soft beside me.
“Sure,” I said, with ill feeling.
My instinct was not to cross my friend,
I had too few left.
I nodded to the Ape behind the bar and he obliged
with one lemon & ginger and one green tea.
He knows his regulars well
and we know we’d need to wait til later for anything stronger.
“Look,” he said, and I turned to see
a gap and I counted the two teeth that were missing -
no, not missing - he opened his hand
and there they were, both accounted for,
safe and secure in his grey leathery palm.
“Look,” he repeated, (a little slurred this time)
and turned his fist so I could see
the missing skin and the bruises
that gave testimony to his amateur status.
His ****** grin and wet laughter
shook the silverback back into action
and we got a plate of malted milks.
Like I say, he knows his regulars well
and he’d listened when I told him
where he could get a regular supply,
direct from Staffordshire, in the UK.
“Lo-ok,” he said (more hesitant this time)
and lifted his shirt a little to reveal the knife wound,
replete with knife, buried to the hilt.
“Loo-,“ he started to say, as he slid off the bar stool
taking his tea with him, the porcelain shattering on the stone floor.
I winced – the cups had been a gift
to the Ape from my mother.
‘Why should the chimps get all the best crockery?’ she’d explained.
“I’ll pay for the breakage,” I said
and the Ape nodded his furrowed brow
as he swung round to grab the dustpan and mop.
I drank my tea,
counting off the friends that remained.
Mar 2, 2024
Mar 2, 2024 at 1:25 PM UTC
I have a bruise to mark each memory
faded experiences, my tie-died vessels heal
hurriedly as a huddled leaf chasing a stream.
I have a bruise to mark moving
hip-forward, greeting our kitchen counter
first thing after threshold.
I have a bruise from stubbornness
we wrestled like chimps, my head
finding first impressions with tacky tiles,
your floor. You won our primitive match.
A bruise to mark the midnight hike,
I fell into the chaparral.
One to many beers, and a spin-tingling
fear of fallowing you up the mountain.
I slapped you for leaving me behind.
I have a bruise to mark our night,
when anger awoke arousal
Your thumb, your teeth, the main
suspects to my man made splotch.
A shower stinging stain trickled itself away
A fleshy fading peace sign.
I have a bruise from your discovery.
In a constructed pile of soil
You laid me down too *****
Stripping me of theatrical ties, temporary faces.
I willingly wove the canvas, for you
brave adventurer uncovered bruises.
The maps you didn't mark,
blacks and Blues you didn't write.
Paints that I lose so frequently,
like a child in a department store
that I can't forget my human fear,
Being Found.
But though you paint me purple,
break my veins like glow sticks,
leave me in the dark, and wrestle me
like a man,
You heal Me,
like rain to the grasses.
To feel again.
You crumpled contracted walls
surrounding my ability in
obtaining adventure, and your
Happy Bruises.
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 11:18 PM UTC
Green night in the middle of the day…
Fire rising to ****** the moon,
Uncle Sam’s praying in my room
And the 8-ball will not say
Why a woman holds a gun
To her husband’s sleeping head;
Does she play or just wish him dead?
An armadillo’s included for fun.
Uncle Sam’s lost his hat in the fire
Maybe that’s why he’s praying.
Not for the country he should be saving
While we are conquered by liars.
I’ve tried to make sense of this before:
Masked fiddlers strum in the conflagration,
Dead books, butterflies and chimps run the nation,
…there is luggage on the floor.
Should I run from the scene,
Or stay and try to fight?
I can’t read my books in the deepening night
And there’s a skull waiting just to scream.
The man sleeps on with a gun at his head
And I see another skull by his side.
It must be a sign saying: “run and hide”.
But why can’t I do it?
There’s no way to get through it,
But I must wake up and fight or I’m dead.
June 1, 2006
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 8:00 AM UTC
Labour are red
Tories are blue
Both need the Liberals
Their votes were too few
We want, we all said
A hung parliament coup
Carelessly wished for
Now all coming true
There's economic dread
So what shall we do
We can't decide which we like
Yellow, red or blue
Campaigning not bed
A decision to rue
More sleep is postponed
So Clegg they can woo
The rivals must wed
A coalition stew
Strong stable unity
Or chimps in a zoo?
Some policies now dead
Others they'll pursue
The only thing certain
Is that cuts are in view
So raise up your head
And herald the new
And if someone's in charge
Please tell me who.
May 7, 2010
May 7, 2010 at 2:38 PM UTC
The chimps are fighting the bonobos
on the jungle floor
I wanna elevate the game
so they can see there's something more
above their head if they dare see -
bananas hanging in them trees
instead of just runnin' around flinging feces
if they just keep their chin up they would see....
Look up, you monkey!
Sep 20, 2020
Sep 20, 2020 at 12:05 AM UTC
Mr C Penguin the head of the house
Wears a uniform and listens to Strauss.
Seals plonked by the door as a draught excluder.
Chimps are taking tea in the parlour Room.
Judging how many cakes they can consume.
“Get a brush Foxy and sweep up those crumbs,
I will be charging them double when the time comes”
Mr Badger making endless trays upon trays of cakes
For the ignorant posh chimps and the mess they make.
“Bag the goose and send the felloe to me,
I will give the chimps something to do for free”
The penguin cracked his knuckles and gave a cough
He had told the chimps he had taken the day off.
“The goose is here” half smiling “the goose is here”
The chimps shook, gulped and felt a trifle queer.
The goose frog marched in and the chimp went limp
“Right you posh lot, eat nicely is that clear chimp”
“I’m not old fishy pengy” he snapped straightening his wing,
“no hanky panky on my watch, nothing, no anything.
“I run a tight ship chimp, my rules old chum.”
The chimps heard right and put an end to the fun.
“Respect, respect,” the goose patrolled his little space
The chimps now ashen with a worried look on their face.
It is all about respect
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
New Religion
I was an atheist
until I was told religion (Christianity) could not be man made
that it was normal for women to be pregnant without getting laid
so to prove a point I made one of my own and I’m now a Monkiest
we believe that chimps Darma and Greg seat in the midst of earth
and that we are but simply there thoughts and dreams
and were here just for there entertainment so it seems
and to young Charles they gave birth
for he is see'er of death
when its your time to go
Charles will let you know
and he will ease your pain till your final breath
and when you die
there is no haven no hell
so have fun in life there is nothing to dwell
you’ll be placed in the ground and left for bait
and your bones will decay at a later date
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC
ape ,man ,those hunched savages in between,
young charlie d thought he knew them all.
jane goodall and her chimps.
she thought she knew them all.
where one ends the other begins,reads the title
for a gay *****
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
Those chimps
Just wanted to be left alone
They used the stick
As a tool
And started hitting the drone
That will teach the drone to stay away
These chimps are planning ahead
How interesting
I must say
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC