Man's Evolution
from the monkey he comes
bringing a banana
then he changes
erect with a stone & spear
then tired with the spear
he carries a gun
and some beer and
barbecue and steak
he faces the TV
more than every day
at last he evolves into
a pig,
happily waddling
in the mud.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Spiral Horns
My bull spiral horns
Like fishing rod
Spun horns like branch and
Bough of tree
We spray cattle in forest
In name and honour of my bull
I mock those who beat drum of war
But can’t dance in battleground
The monkey groans
The falcon scramble hens
If nothing happened
All men are men even who
Will whine like women
If war comes to teeth of cows
The monkey groans
The falcon scrambles hen
I find husband of buffalo sick in
Brave sickness I kill him by spear
Until lay head down
I find husband of man in brave fury
I kill him by spear until lay head down
I find husband of lion in brave cancer
I kill him by spear until lay head down
The monkey groans
The falcon scramble hen
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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Banana Tree
Banana tree
Banana tree
Banana tree
There is a monkey
Up
There
He is
Eating Banana
Monkey
Monkey
I am hungry
Also
I tell
him
I make
sings
with my
Hands
to tell
him to share
it with me
He covers his
Eyes with his hands
And gigles
So I keep on trying
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Young Banana
Monkey
Too
Monkey...
Catch too
Play with
Banana...
Banana
Not bad...
For young banana
Not for eat...
So...
Monkey's catch play
The banana...? ? ? ? ! ! ! !
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Helmet was joined to helmet, and spear to spear, and jewels, baggage, and elephants without number went with them, and you would have said it was a host that none could understand.
Why Are We Here?
there is this sickness that comes
and you have no power to block it
it is like a monkey that comes at your
temple door and you have no way of driving it
you leave leaving everything important to that monkey
spreading banana peelings on the alter of your sacred nook
you watch at a distance where the monkey plays monkey upon itself
you are sleepy, you fall into a deep slumber
the monkey comes inside that dream and you are helpless
without your hands and feet
you cough, you struggle to vomit
there is no cure for this sickness
nothing comes out
and you are feeling toxic
that is why we are here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Poem For Abdul
Why Are We Here?
there is this sickness that comes
and you have no power to block it
it is like a monkey that comes at your
temple door and you have no way of driving it
you leave
leaving everything important to that monkey
spreading banana peelings
on the altar of your sacred nook
you watch at a distance
where the monkey plays monkey
upon itself
you are sleepy,
you fall into a deep slumber
the monkey comes inside that dream
and you are helpless
without your hands and feet
you cough, you struggle to vomit
there is no cure for this sickness
nothing comes out
and you are feeling toxic
that is why we are here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Banana Sad
on indian village
monkey wanted
banana
with out money
too eat...
banana women woory
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Reise Reise (Arise Arise) (Lyrics.)
Even on the waves there is fighting
Where fish and flesh are woven into sea
One stabs the lance while in the army
Another throws it into the ocean
Ahoy
Arise, arise seaman arise
Each does it in his own way
One thrusts the spear into a man
Another then into the fish
Arise, arise seaman arise
And the waves cry softly
In their blood a spear is lodged
They bleed softly into the ocean
The lance must be drowned in flesh
Fish and man sink to the depths
Where the black soul dwells
there is no light on the horizon
Ahoy
Arise, arise seaman arise
Each does it in his own way
One thrusts the spear into a man
Another then into the fish
Arise, arise seaman arise
And the waves cry softly
In their blood a spear is lodged
They bleed softly into the ocean
Arise, arise seaman arise
And the waves cry softly
In their heart a spear is lodged
They bleed themselves dry on the shore
poem by Satan's Sibling
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Feed The Monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
She likes the monkey
Well gather 'round and let me tell you all a story
About a boy and his monkey
He's got that kind of monkey that the girls wanna know
He likes to take his monkey every place that he goes
(Can we pet your monkey?)
Hey, ho, you see the monkey?
Did you know you made my monkey hungry?
I didn't really know how it get so hungry
I'd like to know
Would you feed the monkey?
Well you can pet my monkey
'Cause my monkey don't bite
But when you pet my monkey
He get funky all night
My monkey ain't no ordinary orangutang
'Cause my monkey likes to do the wild thing
My monkey don't scratch
My monkey don't bite
My monkey don't swing no tree
My monkey don't hit
My monkey don't drool
My monkey be swing with me
My monkey don't freak
My monkey don't trip
My monkey don't wear no cape
But you can tell what my monkey wanna eat
'Cause it turn into a big ol' ape
Yeah...
Hey..
The monkey's getting hungry
Hey, hey, why don't you feed your monkey?
(REPEAT x 3)
What she want?
She wants the monkey
(REPEAT x 3)
You know she want
You know she want
You know she wants the monkey
(REPEAT x 3)
Hey, hey, she likes to feed the monkey
Ooh, she's sayin' it's time to feed the monkey
Everyday she wants to feed the monkey
All through the day she likes to feed the monkey
She likes to feed the monkey
(REPEAT x 7)
Feed the monkey
(REPEAT x 19)
She likes to feed the monkey
song performed by by Infectious Grooves
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Symbols
’Tis said that the Passion Flower,
With its figures of spear and sword
And hammer and nails, is a symbol
Of the Woe of our Blessed Lord.
So still in the Heart of Beauty
Has been hidden, since Life drew breath,
The sword and the spear of Anguish,
And the hammer and nails of Death.
poem by Victor James Daley
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The Monkey
1 little monkey
was goin' 2 the store
when he saw a banana 3
he'd never climbed be4.
By 5 o'clock that evenin'
he was 6 with a stomach ache
'cause 7 green bananas
was what that monkey 8.
By 9 o'clock that evenin'
that monkey was quite ill,
so 10 we called the doctor
who was 11 on the hill.
The doctor said, 'You're almost dead.
Don't eat green bananas no more.'
The sick little monkey groaned and said,
'But that's what I 1-2 the 3-4.'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Tra La La Song
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
One banana, two banana
Three banana, four
Four bananas make a bunch
And so do many more
Over hill and highway
The banana buggies go
Comin' on to bring you
The Banana Splits Show
Makin' up a mess of fun
Makin' up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Four banana, three banana
Two banana, one
All bananas playing in the bright warm sun
Flippin' like a pancake, poppin' like a cork
Fleagle, Bingo, Drooper an' Snork
Makin' up a mess of fun
Makin' up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Two banana, four banana
One banana, three
Swingin' like a bunch of monkeys
Hangin' from a tree
Hey there everybody
Won't you come along and see
How much like banana splits
Everyone can be
Makin' up a mess of fun
Makin' up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
Tra-la-la, la-la-la-la
song performed by by Liz Phair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Date
three red chilis
on top of two sliced calamansi
beside the cup of white rice
inverted in form
the chicken barbecue is glazed
with butter
above a banana leaf
we have nothing to talk about
we eat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hunt the Deer
Hunting season is here,
guns and rifles cleaned.
Stocked up with gear,
on his quad he leaned.
Lots of bullets,
hunt the deer.
No much of a challenge,
could use a spear.
Eight guys all with beer's,
one holding the camera.
Everyone smiling ' Cheers',
in front of the dead 'deer'.
poem by David Darbyshire
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Shock The Monkey
Shock the monkey to life
Shock the monkey to life
Cover me when I run
Cover me through the fire
Something knocked me out the trees
Now Im on my knees
Cover me, darling please
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Dont you know when youre going to shock the monkey
Fox the fox
Rat the rat
You can ape the ape
I know about that
There is one thing you must be sure of
I cant take any more
Darling, dont you monkey with the monkey
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Dont you know youre going to shock the monkey
Wheels keep turning
Somethings burning
Dont like it but I guess Im learning
Shock! - watch the monkey get hurt, monkey
Cover me, when I sleep
Cover me, when I breathe
You throw your pearls before the swine
Make the monkey blind
Cover me, darling please
Monkey, monkey, monkey
Dont you know youre going to shock the monkey
Too much at stake
Ground beneath me shake
And the news is breaking
Shock! - watch the monkey get hurt, monkey
Shock the monkey
Shock the monkey
Shock the monkey to life
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Butterfly
everything is interrelated
nothing is
compartmentalized
thus
when the butterfly in China dies
the bear in Russia also suffers
when the monkey in the Philippines
falls short of the banana
the anaconda of Brazil becomes sterile
when the tiger of Africa kills
the parrot in Paraguay feels
everything is interrelated
nothing is a stone
no one is a creek
we are all one river.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Sun Burns East to West
The Sun Burns East to West
(Earth’s Creation to the end of an Ice Age)
© 2008 (Jim Sularz)
Sun’s first rise over life-less skies,
the Earth cools, and the waters pool -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the planet’s broken plates quake and move.
Lightning strikes, the waters stir,
and the bonds of life begin to churn -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the waters swirl in a living urn.
Strange aquatic things, they all evolve,
some spiny finned, start to crawl -
the Sun burns East to West.
And they slowly stretch erect and tall.
Eons past where the cunning reign, a savage place,
with small sized brains -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the dead surrender their twisted remains.
An asteroid streaks from the sky, blocks out the Sun,
cause most to die -
the Sun burns East to West.
And all in a blink of Time’s eye.
Footprints in stone, some on mountainsides,
make it clear that rocks don’t lie -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the Fossils always tell the Time.
Eons past and Eons more, the fittest evolves,
and Man is born -
the Sun burns East to West.
And the early brain, once fast asleep,
begins to dream and mourn.
The first million years, Man lives in fear, learns to hunt,
invents the spear -
the Sun burns East to West.
And migrates to claim the vast frontiers.
Tools from stone and controlled fire, creates language,
that shake Man’s empire -
the Sun burns East to West.
And splash Cave paintings with Human inspire.
Life-times of hunter-gathering,
and story-telling in the dark -
the Sun burns East to West.
And a World spins with a Million hearts.
The Earth starts to warm, the oceans rise,
and the waters shape the lands -
the Sun burns East to West.
And when an Ice Age ends, then comes, the Age of Man.
poem by Jim Sularz
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Dirrawan the Song-Maker
Dirrawan went into the bush to spear waat,
but he forgot about waat the red wallaby.
he thought about dirridirri the small bird and deereeree the wagtail
he thought about wonning the lightning and tumberumba the thunder.
He did not spear anything at all.
Dirrawan went to the Long Brown Water to catch makora.
he thought about balleballea the silence of the night,
he thought about ballanda the long time ago.
He did not catch any fish, he brought back a new song to the gunyahs.
poem by James Martin Devaney
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Upon Visiting A Dying Woman In The Hospital At Room 108
actually the barbecue
is more than what it appears to be
its scent of meat
and the hotness of the spice
and delicacy of
the sauce
it is the front of something
that is hidden
there is something behind its shape
and odor
i cannot speak to you about it
so i offer you that
pork barbecue
i know that hunger that
does not want to be fed
time fills that
grief
that cannot be appeased
the barbecue is cold
set aside in one of the corners
of the table
grease is solidified
no one
not one from those who see
the emaciated body
of the dying woman
wants to take
the bite
someone does
but eventually there is that
obstruction in the
throat
and so the tongue
expels that piece
of pork barbecue
again
what a waste!
yet we can never voice
this matter out
the eyes speak a lot
but you know then
they have no voices
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Poetry 2011
it was not as serious as
cancer stage 4
nothing of that sort
it was more of having to see
a buffered tab
and then for the meantime that
you wait
and the waiting is indeed long
as the signal of the town's server is
weak
you begin to scribble
and doodle like a toddler
you write
whatever you think
without being responsible really
for what
they will think
turtle, rabbit, monkey
stone, thorns, banana river
you have to make a link
and understand
what is this boredom
all about,
the rest of course
is nothing but porn....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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