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More Fun Than A Barrel Of Monkeys
there are multiple questions pertaining to the concept,
'more fun than a barrel of monkeys.'
how big is the barrel?
how many monkeys are we talking about?
how big are the monkeys? Are we talking spider monkeys, chimps, baboons or what?
Are the monkeys old or young and where's the barrel, inside or outside?
If you leave the monkeys in the barrel, you got a problem:
they'll die in their own excrement,
if you lift the lid and let them out,
they might kill you.
a monkey can rip out your eyes, is that fun?
monkeys, leaping and running around the house, can do a lot of damage, is that fun?
monkeys are dirty, so... what exactly do you consider fun?
what's it going to be like trying to get the monkeys back in the barrel?
would that be fun?
what would the neighbors think of you, if you released the monkeys into their yards?
what happens if the police gets involved?
it could mean everything imaginable is more fun than a barrel of these animals.
maybe even more fun than a barrel of human beings.
poem by Richard Jarboe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once a tree falls, the monkeys on it will scatter.
The Tree (a Repost)
the tree
when the big tree falls
hit by lightning
roared by thunder
when the big tree finally falls
and i am there
the big sound
of a giant old tree
falling finally to the ground
the arrogance
that used to be
of that big old tree
we all look up
it is so high
and we do not
climb it anyhow
we fear
and
perhaps we too pay respect
for its grandeur
and today this big tree falls
hit by lightning and roared by thunder
the universe claps upon the
fall of arrogance and pride
and a tree's belief about
its hugeness and
strength
now this tree falls
and i am here watching it
you are not here
you are in some foreign country
how can i tell you
that this tree has fallen
and there is nothing to fear anymore?
when a tree falls and you are not there
your logic tells
there is no tree
there is no tree of such strength and posture
there is no tree like that
that can ever fall
all because a lightning hit it
and all because the thunder roared
without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The tree
When the big tree falls
Hit by lightning
Roared by thunder
When the big tree finally falls
And I was there
A big sound
Of a giant old tree
Falling finally to the ground
The arrogance
That used to be
By that big old tree
We all looked upon
It was so high
And we did not
Climb it anyhow
For fear
And
Perhaps respect for its grandeur
And today this big tree falls
Hit by lightning and roared by thunder
The universe claps upon the
Fall of arrogance and pride
And a tree's belief about
Its hugeness and
Strength
Now this tree falls
And I am here watching it
You are not here
You are in some foreign country
How can I tell you
That this tree has fallen
And there is nothing to fear anymore?
When a tree falls and you are not there
Your logic tells
There is no tree
There is no tree of such strength and posture
There is no tree like that
That can ever fall
All because a lightning hits it
And all because the thunder roared
Without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tree
when the big tree falls
hit by lightning
roared by thunder
when the big tree finally falls
and i was there
a big sound
of a giant old tree
falling finally to the ground
the arrogance
that used to be
by that big old tree
we all looked upon
it was so high
and we did not
climb it anyhow
for fear
and
perhaps respect for its grandeur
and today this big tree falls
hit by lightning and roared by thunder
the universe claps upon the
fall of arrogance and pride
and a tree's belief about
its hugeness and
strength
now this tree falls
and i am here watching it
you are not here
you are in some foreign country
how can i tell you
that this tree has fallen
and there is nothing to fear anymore?
when a tree falls and you are not there
your logic tells
there is no tree
there is no tree of such strength and posture
there is no tree like that
that can ever fall
all because a lightning hits it
and all because the thunder roared
without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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44
when the big tree falls
hit by lightning
roared by thunder
when the big tree finally falls
and i was there
a big sound
of a giant old tree
falling finally to the ground
the arrogance
that used to be
by that big old tree
we all looked upon
it was so high
and we did not
climb it anyhow
for fear
and
perhaps respect for its grandeur
and today this big tree falls
hit by lightning and roared by thunder
the universe claps upon the
fall of arrogance and pride
and a tree's belief about
its hugeness and
strength
now this tree falls
and i am here watching it
you are not here
you are in some foreign country
how can i tell you
that this tree has fallen
and there is nothing to fear anymore?
when a tree falls and you are not there
your logic tells
there is no tree
there is no tree of such strength and posture
there is no tree like that
that can ever fall
all because a lightning hits it
and all because the thunder roared
without you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monkeys Must Know What's Good For Them
Monkeys do mind,
How a banana peels.
And how that's done,
To quicken the taste.
Why bananas do appeal,
And not coconuts?
I had not seen this spoken.
Or discussed in a fuss.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
Monkeys do mind,
How a banana peels.
And how that's done,
To quicken the taste.
Why bananas do appeal,
And not coconuts?
I had not seen this spoken.
Or discussed in a fuss.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
Stripping exotic trees,
Of fruit they leave.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we,
Unfortunately...
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And,
We...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we,
Unfortunately...
Are not monkeys.
Monkeys must know what's good for them.
But we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If A Tree Falls
If a tree falls I hope that it falls on the grass
If a tree falls I hope that it falls in the lake
If a tree falls I hope that it doesn't fall on top of me
If a tree falls I hope that it doesn't fall on the roof of the houses
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Magnetic Pulls
Women are beehives hanging from tree top.
Men are lame monkeys, expecting dripping.
Beehives not yielding, monkeys not climbing,
A width is maintained for magnetic pull.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Smartest Monkeys
Well man created the cardboard box to sleep in it
And man converted the newspaper to a blanket
Well you have to admit that hes come a long way
Since swinging about in the trees
Were the smartest monkeys
The smartest monkeys
The evidence is all around
Our brains are bigger
This weve found
The smartest monkeys
Well man discovered the park bench can make a transition
And the rubbish tip makes a valid form of nutrition
With discoveries like these
Civilisation agrees
To give itself a pat on the back
Were the smartest monkeys
The evolutions plain to see
Were the dominant of the species
The smartest monkeys
We brought the caveman from the stoneage
To the subways of the modern world
How they pack so many in
Quick call the guinness book of records
Well you have to admit...
Were the smartest monkeys...
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Pick the Ticks Off Monkeys
Your love for monkeys,
Leaves a lump right here...
In my throat!
And I get so emotional,
When you swing from branch to tree branch...
On a vine,
Swinging...
Like one who has swung on a rope!
And when you pick ticks...
From another monkey's fur?
I get teary eyed...
Just watching what occurs!
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
Your love for monkeys,
Leaves a lump right here...
In my throat!
And I get so emotional,
When you swing from branch to tree branch...
On a vine,
Swinging...
Like one who has swung on a rope!
And when you pick ticks...
From another monkey's fur?
I get teary eyed...
Just watching what occurs!
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove thst itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
Can you do this even faster?
And remove that itch!
Can you do this even faster?
And remove that itch!
Can you do this even faster?
And remove that itch!
And remove that itch!
And remove that itch,
Every bit!
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You removed the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You removed the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You removed the itch.
You removed the itch.
You removed that itch...
From the tick inflicted monkeys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm not an Ape Man
'Mankind has descended from monkeys'
I heard on the telly last week;
The scientists say that it's certain,
I say that I think they've a cheek.
Just because our design is so similar
To monkeys and apes and baboons;
I don't reckon those chimps in the advert'
Have a clue what to do with those spoons.
I'm not fooled by their lovable antics,
And the 'smiles' that play on their lips;
It's an insult to dress them like humans,
And force them to drink P.G. tips.
We sit them in front of a mirror
Like a schoolmaster would do a dunce,
Then say: 'yes they've got self awareness'
If they do not attack it at once.
If it's true we're descended from monkeys
Why is it there's some of them left,
Why is it there's still some evolving
And the world isn't monkey bereft?
No, my mind is made up on the matter,
And it wasn't made up in a tree;
Let the scientist say what he wants to,
But he won't make a monkey of me!
Written Jan 1996
poem by John Carter Brown
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A Day In Summer
perhaps only some of you
knew what really happened
things that we did
at the prime of our youth
the one at the river was not true
neither was the one at the cogon grasses
the rumors were too advanced
and bent like a misshapen twig
perhaps this time you must have known
what joys we shared
picking ripe mangoes on that huge tree
at the foot of the hill
we drove no monkeys away
and no monkeys did give us any bother
the mangoes were too juicy
too ripe for our hands
too fragile for our wantonness
we never brought you any.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In These Trees Together
They watched me.
I watched them.
They with their tails...
And me swinging on a vine,
From tree to tree wondering
As I look for a place to settle!
'Why aren't the squirrels scratching their butts,
Like the monkeys?
We're all in these trees together!
And I'm doing the best I can to be neighborly! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Monkey Gone To Heaven
There was a guy
An under water guy who controlled the sea
Got killed by ten million pounds of sludge
From new york and new jersey
This monkeys gone to heaven
The creature in the sky
Got sucked in ahole
Now theres a hole in the sky
And the grounds not cold
And if the grounds not cold
Everything is gonna burn
Well all take turns
Ill get mine, too
This monkeys gone to haven
Rock me joe!
If man is 5 [3x]
Then the devil is 6 [5x]
Then God is 7 [3x]
This monkeys gone to heaven
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh unchanging tree
Such a beautiful thing Is a tree.
In summer, in winter, in spring, in fall
the beauty of a tree, doesn't change at all
The leaves fall to the ground
all the richest beautiful color
can be found
The snow falls
but it doesn't hurt the tree,
it just lays on it's branches
like frosting on a cake
Then it gets warm, the snow melts.
Say goodbye to to winter, say hello to sping.
New life is such a beautiful thing
But so is the tree, the beautiful mighty tree.
That stands alone as the seasons pass
as when you were old or just a lass.
A tree must have a heart, because when it falls to the ground.
No Joy can be found..
So when you see a tree say hello, they can get lonely you know.
Tell them a story, tell them a poem, they will listen.
This I know
poem by Summer Song
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Mind Monkey
Monkeys are
playing on trees...
jump with jump...
Side by side...
Monkeys...
Play...
Watch about mind...
Also play with
The monkeys....
Monkeys did not
watch about me...
o...
mind...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Some say that AIDS came from the monkeys, and I doubt that because we have been living with monkeys from time immemorial, others say it was a curse from God, but I say it cannot be that.
quote by Wangari Maathai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Drop In Game
Two curious monkeys sat up in a palm tree
watching two Russian men playing chess.
Everyday they watched the Russians play
until a winner was declared the best.
The next day a Russian sat alone at the table
with the chess pieces set out to play.
A monkey dropped in and sat opposite him
and a game of chess got under way.
For over a week they played each other
until the monkey won five games to three.
The next day a lone monkey sat at the table
until its friend dropped down from a tree.
For two weeks they played each other
with every game resulting in a draw.
The monkeys that sat around watching
applauded and wanted to see more.
Two more weeks passed without a winner,
but then the tropical rains began to pour.
A hurricane blew the chess set out to sea,
now chess is played on the ocean floor.
poem by Orlando Belo
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