No!
Then they are bunch of Mzee,
But now, they have piece into sleaze.
They believe we are
Distopped by curaco
That is narcotic us
No!
You the baboon
The baboon
Who feeds in boon
Who misuses his boon
And bomb the boon
They believe they can Build something no nothin'
Rude rain of pain
No!
Not under the sun.
They are jocular,
But speak in oracular
They are living in humid
And they they left the small fry in arid.
No!
Will shall fight with the breath
Because they are arch enemy to us
But show in angel in face.
poem by Ejalonibu Abraham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
It is my boon.
I eat less; I sleep less.
Yet I am tireless.
It is my boon.
I lust for, at sixty,
Women sixteen to sixty.
It is my boon.
I have the woman
Half my age in flirtation.
It is my boon.
I send the woman
In her teen to orgasm.
It is my boon.
So I want no heaven
As I lived through heaven.
It is my boon.
21.07.2000, Paralakhemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0333 Hungry for Romance
Mills and Boon, Mills and Boon,
ravish me - but not too soon...
Boon and Mills, Boon and Mills,
steam my specs with bedtime thrills...
(M&B - publishers of bodice-ripper romance, with strict rules for their writers)
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Campaign Song
Boom boom boom
Boon boon boon
Bane bane bane
Your campaign song
Is too loud, bane
I am riding on boon
Good and fine days
Ignorant of intended ways
Boom your campaign song
It was too loud, bane
I barely could manage
To hear your message
I voted for the other candidate
Your Boom song was too loud
It was good in our ears in June
But you sang it till December
That even kids should remember
I choose otherwise, voted you out
Is Campaign song bane or boon?
poem by Benjamin Paa Willie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ape, the Monkey, and Baboon
The ape, the monkey and baboon did meet,
And breaking of their fast in Friday street,
Two of them swore together solemnly
In their three natures was a sympathy.
Nay, quoth baboon,
I do deny that strain:
I have more knavery in me
than you twain.
Why, quoth the ape, I have a horse at will
In Paris Garden for to ride on still,
And there show tricks. Tush, quoth the monkey,
For better tricks in great men's houses lie.
Tush, quoth baboon,
when men do know I come,
For sport from city, country
they will run.
poem by Thomas Weelkes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Boon Of Freedom!
Who has really the boon of freedom in the world?
Plants, animals, men or birds want freedom forever;
Peace and happiness everybody loves to enjoy here.
The joy everyone enjoys is not ready to sacrifice ever;
The strongest dominates to maintain its freedom ever.
Survival depends upon the favourable situation only;
Life goes on for all living beings big or small somehow.
Living on land, swimming on sea and flying in air there’s
Survival of many beings in the world striving for satiation.
Land survivors cannot live in the sea and fly in the air;
Survivors of both on land and sea cannot fly in the sky;
Living on land man can survive on sea but not in the sky;
Of all the creatures only sea gulls and albatross survive
On land, sea and sky as they only have boon of freedom!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Here They Trysted, And Here They Strayed
Here they trysted, here they strayed,
In the leafage dewy and boon,
Many a man and many a maid,
And the morn was merry June.
'Death is fleet, Life is sweet,'
Sang the blackbird in the may;
And the hour with flying feet,
While they dreamed, was yesterday.
Many a maid and many a man
Found the leafage close and boon;
Many a destiny began -
O, the morn was merry June!
Dead and gone, dead and gone,
(Hark the blackbird in the may!),
Life and Death went hurrying on,
Cheek on cheek--and where were they?
Dust on dust engendering dust
In the leafage fresh and boon,
Man and maid fulfil their trust -
Still the morn turns merry June.
Mother Life, Father Death
(O, the blackbird in the may!),
Each the other's breath for breath,
Fleet the times of the world away.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Deep Ocean and Vast Universe!
Romance in real life is story of Mills & Boon;
Never leaves the hearts of lovers so soon!
Modern life short of romance is mechanical
Controlled by time makes all mad for love!
Love lost in young and middle ages is bad
As it makes all long for love very old, a pity!
Enjoying life to the full is a boon and satisfaction
Very few lucky ones get in life to the envy of all!
Nature has destined all to love and live well;
But man of mind not knowing by instinct ever
Browses books after books like Mills & Boon
To endeaour like a mission to the Moon last!
Pleasure is vast as Universe and deep as ocean!
If you struggle for Moon how will you measure all?
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Just a Lost Baboon
I'm just a lost baboon,
In a zoo of monkeys.
I view the other animals encaged.
Some outraged with their manes,
Needing to be done.
I don't wish to be a leopard.
Or a tiger to make a hole in one.
Or a gazelle doing my version of a kangaroo!
To say I can also do a giraffe to startle everyone.
If I elected to!
I don't wish for brains like an elephant.
To have my tusk use for someone to play...
'We Are The World' on a piano.
To hear the laugh of hyenas...
Doing their best to sing in tune!
I'm just a lost baboon.
Not a drifting buffalo.
Nor do I wish to croon melodies with vultures.
And...
I roam this zoo looking for something to do!
Not caring who knows.
Until I find someone who declares...
'Hey you,
I am a baboon too!
Are you from South, East or West Africa? '
No...
I will respond.
Unfortunately not!
I was adopted very young.
And my heritage I forgot.
I've been educated to think!
And not look at myself baboonish!
And that has been a curse...
Thrusted upon me.
With memories I can not drop!
But I can hip hop and cha cha...
Although my rhythm is off.
And I can appear quite foolish!
I'm just a lost baboon
In a zoo of monkeys.
I view the other animals encaged.
Some outraged with their manes,
Needing to be done.
And I wear my dreads to be connected.
While others seem to have...
Not a trace of identity I can see.
And that to me...really stuns!
Weaves on heads.
With greasy curls and waves,
Paraded by everyone.
And bald heads too?
What is that all about?
Are they feeding an enslavement?
To enhance an acceptance...
Of an expressed freedom discussed,
But long tossed out! ?
I'm just a lost baboon...
Intellectualizing my gloom!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There’s a male baboon loose in town
There’s a male baboon loose in town
walking on its hands and feet
opening all the rubbish bins in town
where eagerly it looks for any food
and it’s easier for him than the bush,
while cursing he talks to the dogs.
There’s a male baboon loose in town
walking on its hands and feet
stripping everything that it finds
and as an outcast it did desert,
he scratches between rubbish, old papers and mail,
trying to baptize himself in the sewerage,
there’s a male baboon loose in town
walking on its hands and feet.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Lovers Box
My lovers charms
Are in a box
Beneath my bed
And piece by piece
Ill cherish them
Until the end
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven
They burn my hands
Scar my face
And blind my eyes
Ill steal your breath
And throw away
What I despise
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven
Between these walls
And darkened halls
Ive done my time
If I should die
Before I wake
Then youll know why
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven, piece by piece
Send me an angel to love, piece by piece
I need to feel a little piece of heaven, piece by piece
Send me an angel to love, piece by piece
Im afraid Ill never get to heaven, piece by piece
Piece by piece
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
Piece by piece, send me an angel
song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long-Left Wide Step
Failed to find meaning in my
immediate surrounds; 1-2-3,
a-1-2-3, I went down the street,
usual music not speaking to me
Thought of my dad, cowboy hat on
his head, playing his music - Chris
Blignaut singing the song of a hapless
baboon, a bully-beef can with ants
His wireless for greeting his tribe, no tax
to pay, he sings - the can's too tight, his
face is stuck, the ants bite him, the baboon
goes mad - we stared with shiny eyes
As the chaos was described - and I sing
along with the song as I long-left wide
step 1-2-3- down the street, happy in
a cloud of memory - the beauty
Not intrinsic in the melody, but in the special
quality of nostalgic song - the soft golden light
enclosing times past…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Love Song
Reject me not if I should say to you
I do forget the sounding of your voice,
I do forget your eyes that searching through
The mists perceive our marriage, and rejoice.
Yet, when the apple-blossom opens wide
Under the pallid moonlight’s fingering,
I see your blanched face at my breast, and hide
My eyes from diligent work, malingering.
Ah, then, upon my bedroom I do draw
The blind to hide the garden, where the moon
Enjoys the open blossoms as they straw
Their beauty for his taking, boon for boon.
And I do lift my aching arms to you,
And I do lift my anguished, avid breast,
And I do weep for very pain of you,
And fling myself at the doors of sleep, for rest.
And I do toss through the troubled night for you,
Dreaming your yielded mouth is given to mine,
Feeling your strong breast carry me on into
The peace where sleep is stronger even than wine.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life Is Just Life
life is neither a heaven nor a hell.
not a puzzle to get displace.
life is life n only life
which we have to live n survive..
life is not a trauma of tumult..
nor of sporadic spryness or sundry sadness
life is living n to live is life
life is not a season of summer or springs..
or of being at shed or scortching heat
life is what it is l-iving i-t f-ullest e-clatically
is the message it gives..
life is not a sea of sorrow or plethora of pleasure
nothing so special nothin to err
life is living n only living..
& the one who defines it, does it for living
life is not a boon nor a bane
& nthng being so estrange
life is to live n to live is life..
& living life makes us suffice.........
poem by Srishti Shrivastava
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Lover's Box
My lover's charms
Are in a box
Beneath my bed
And piece by piece
I'll cherish them
Until the end
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
I'm afraid I'll never get to heaven
They burn my hands
Scar my face
And blind my eyes
I steal your breath
And throw away
What I despise
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
I'm afraid I'll never get to heaven
Between these walls
And darkened halls
I've done my time
If I should die
Before I wake
Then you'll know why
Send me an angel to love
I need to feel a little piece of heaven
Send me an angel to love
I'm afraid I'll never get to heaven (piece by piece)
Send me an angel to love (piece by piece)
I need to feel a little piece of heaven (piece by piece)
Send me an angel to love (piece by piece)
I'm afraid I'll never get to heaven (piece by piece)
Piece by piece
Piece by piece
Send me an angel... (piece by piece)
song performed by by Garbage
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Quangle Wangle's Hat
I.
On the top of the Crumpetty Tree
The Quangle Wangle sat,
But his face you could not see,
On account of his Beaver Hat.
For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide,
With ribbons and bibbons on every side
And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace,
So that nobody every could see the face
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.II.
The Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, --
"Jam; and jelly; and bread;
"Are the best of food for me!
"But the longer I live on this Crumpetty Tree
"The plainer than ever it seems to me
"That very few people come this way
"And that life on the whole is far from gay!"
Said the Quangle Wangle Quee.III.
But there came to the Crumpetty Tree,
Mr. and Mrs. Canary;
And they said, -- "Did every you see
"Any spot so charmingly airy?
"May we build a nest on your lovely Hat?
"Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
"O please let us come and build a nest
"Of whatever material suits you best,
"Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!"IV.
And besides, to the Crumpetty Tree
Came the Stork, the Duck, and the Owl;
The Snail, and the Bumble-Bee,
The Frog, and the Fimble Fowl;
(The Fimble Fowl, with a corkscrew leg;)
And all of them said, -- "We humbly beg,
"We may build out homes on your lovely Hat, --
"Mr. Quangle Wangle, grant us that!
"Mr. Quangle Wangle Quee!"V.
And the Golden Grouse came there,
And the Pobble who has no toes, --
And the small Olympian bear, --
And the Dong with a luminous nose.
And the Blue Baboon, who played the Flute, --
And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute, --
And the Attery Squash, and the Bisky Bat, --
All came and built on the lovely Hat
Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.VI.
And the Quangle Wangle said
To himself on the Crumpetty Tree, --
"When all these creatures move
"What a wonderful noise there'll be!"
And at night by the light of the Mulberry moon
They danced to the Flute of the Blue Baboon,
On the broad green leaves of the Crumpetty Tree,
And all were as happy as happy could be,
With the Quangle Wangle Quee.
poem by Edward Lear
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The Old Moon In The New Moon's Arms
The beautiful and slender young New Moon,
In trailing robes of pink and palest blue,
Swept close to Venus, and breathed low: 'A boon,
A precious boon, I ask, dear friend, of you.'
'O queen of light and beauty, you have known
The pangs of love - its passions and alarms;
Then grant me this one favour, let my own -
My lost Old Moon be once more in my arms.'
Swift thro' the vapours and the golden mist -
The Full Moon's shadowy shape shone on the night,
The New Moon reached out clasping arms and kissed
Her phantom lover in the whole world's sight.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Living With The Enemy
I gave you all that you wanted
and still you come back for more
You say that you're brokenhearted
but then you walk out the door
Maybe it is time for us to say goodbye
Where are the tears you never cried?
Hey baby what you got on your mind
are you looking for some sympathy?
I can tell you if it's a truth or a lie
'Cos it's just like living,
living with the enemy
You got me going in circles,
I'm slowly loosing my head
What did I do to deserve this,
you make me wish I was dead
Tell me I'm wrong and I'll be on my way
See you around another day
Hey baby what you doin' tonite?
Are you giving me the perfect dream
I'm so tired and I don't wanna fight
'Cos it's just like living,
living with the enemy, enemy
Living with the enemy, living with the enemy, enemy
Living with the enemy,enemy
Living with the enemy, living with the enemy, enemy
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Can't Dig Me
Do them not me like your enemy.
To lock me tight to stop the very breath I breathe!
Do them not me like your enemy.
To lock me tight to stop the very breath I breathe!
I'm not your property...
A dangled piece of meat.
No trophy to exploit,
To sneeze away like sleaze.
I'm not your property,
Or an ego tease.
With shine to rust or tarnish,
By neglect that bleeds.
Do them not me like your enemy.
To lock me tight to stop the very breath I breathe!
Do them not me like your enemy.
To lock me tight to stop the very breath I breathe!
I'm not a dropp you pop!
Just to say you've got.
If you can't dig me...
I wont break down in shock!
If you can't dig me...
I wont wither and rot!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Going side by side
Going side by side
Your mind and my thought
I stood for fight.
The star and the moon
Called me at noon
And I thanked them
And I have mt own boon.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Butterflies
The withered sparkle-chips on earth spawn
Caterpillars ere butterflies shrunk in cocoon and cocoon
Swarm with myriad colours out when born
Success of ascension, patterned designs strewn
Egg to larva to pupate on
A cycle of struggle to emerge soon
Butterfly does flirt flower to flower upon
A triumphant mirth of silky, honeyed boon
O'human, ask within why you're gone
Lust and creed to you did who spoon
Out yourself from yourself when drawn
Bad and sad'll never be a boon
Waltz around butterflies iridescently on
Waft up hordes of success soon
Difficulties pupate to endure on
Butterfly be from birth though struggle-sown
poem by Indira Renganathan
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