Shocking Stories....
i
the vulture preys
on the carcass of the helpless
victim
robbed and killed in the desert
abandoned
with fellow vultures the feast
is not over
it will continue for days
ii
the old monkey asks for food
and help
as he sits upon his mountain
of gold
iii
the crocodile that lives on
the murky river
denies
that yesterday it has swallowed
an innocent boy
from that uneducated village
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mountain Woman
They lived together in a dirty old shack
At the edge of the black rocky mountain
And they drank mountain dew and they lived on the food
That they grew at the side of the mountain
Shes a mountain woman, hes her mountain man
They [? ] down the valley
Shes a mountain woman, hes her mountain man
Uneducated but theyre happy
Mountain woman couldnt read nor write
But she knew good from evil, she know wrong from right
When the government tried to buy her water rights
Her intuition was her only guide
Shes a mountain woman, hes her mountain man
They [? ] by the valley
Shes a mountain woman, hes her mountain man
Uneducated but theyre happy
Spend my life with my mountain woman
Were uneducated by were happy
The civil servant used compulsory purchase
To acquire the [? ] for the nation
Theyll dig up the land, theyre gonna make a dam
And build a hydroelectric power station
And now she lives on the 33rd floor
Of a man-made concrete mountain
She got an elevator and refrigerator
And an automobile to run around in
Fast talkin lawyers from the government
Went and beat proud mountain woman down
Hey mountain woman, take your mountain man
They took your land and flood your valley
Spend my life with my mountain woman
Theyre uneducated by theyre happy
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please Tell Me, If You Ever Know...
who robbed us of the days
we laughed with childlike mirth?
who robbed us of the days
when vibrations flowed between us
like milk and curds in their
purest form that little krishna
filled his tummy with?
who robbed us of the days
we danced and sang on unknown
river banks competing against
wind water and amusing little ripples
set in those crystalline waters?
who robbed us of the days
we built any number of castles
by the mighty seas and swayed
to the rhythm of the waves?
who robbed us of
the air that giggled in glee?
who robbed us of
the days of milky moonlight?
who robbed us of
the first showers of monsoon?
who robbed us of
the days of peacok feathers?
who robbed us, dear friend?
can we retieve those days of
spontaneous giggles
unfretterd spirit
uninhibited expression...?
tell me, my friend
if you know the one
one who robbed us of the
very fundemental connection
is he the master-crafter time?
is she a naughty elf?
him or her i wish to meet
no, not to accost
but to see if the booty
really filled his or her heart
and if it did
i wish to leave all of it
for their happiness...
20sep2009
13.20hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The Monkey In The Neighborhood....
i love that
monkey
it asks food
from me
and when given
it hides
it all inside his
mouth
tongue-in-check
if you have
seen it
and then it asks
some more
begging
like a pitiful
child
without a mother
and if begging
does not work
it charms you
with its tiny hands
its fingers
mapping for
lice
in your hair
while its tail
tickles
your armpit
you feel that
and remember
something before
when you
were once
as young & horny as
that imaginary
gazelle
it is this
begging game
that you like most
you are not
a monkey
stop it
it does not
look good for you
you lose your charm
and even the monkey
thinks
that by imitating it
you have
become detestable.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Innocent World
I used to live in an innocent world
I had a car and a pretty blond girlfriend
We was too young to know what we were doing
And anyway I was just fooling around
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
There aint no reason to tell no lie
When youre young and youve got a lot of pie
Now I slink around like a killer
The things they say are just a lot of filler
In my mind, in my mind
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Running, laughing in the sun
And always having lots of fun
Smoking dope and just being young
In my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Golden Fool
he is foolish
his name Coco
he is like the monkey
who sits
on the mountain of gold
though he owns it
everyday
he goes to town
to beg
for him to live
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Furore In Class
Yesterday I demythologised the concepts of
victim and aggressor, claiming women must
accept responsibility for the reaction they elicit
from men, as my classmates still clamoured
about the poor innocent victims who wear mini-
skirts à la haute couture then endure the un-
wanted attentions of amorous men because
women must be free to express themselves
at the cost of everyone around them, wear
revealing or seductive clothing while men
are demonised for lack of decorum
I insisted women enjoy their power over men
and are accountable for the consequences if
they cannot stop their victims from turning on
them - all shocked in class - I added a lot of
people deserve to be killed, including myself,
we should accept responsibility for providing
provocation to the killer instinct, it is a mercy
we don't kill each other more often - there
rarely is such a thing as an innocent victim
once people are grown - what a furore in
class, everyone exclaiming in shock
If we continue to put the blame on the people
who are goaded beyond endurance, we shall
be stuck with a dysfunctional society forever -
oh wait, we ARE stuck with it, no reason to
fear anything will change, provocation will
always be called innocent victim and thus
we are assured of the status quo - what
a lovely prospect since society defends
the true culprits and punishes victims,
let us rejoice in nothing changing…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Greed Of The River
brown to its existence the river as usual is silent
it borrows the sound of the slashing boat and from the time to time talks
it asks. 'where to boatman? '
but the boatman does not answer
he does not know how this river works how this river feels
it has taken people away
it has taken people back to their places
it has swallowed lives
and then in silence it sleeps
its belly full
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One Day You Stop By A Bridge And Just Sit There
and gaze at the rage of the water
under
the brown river gathering all the nuts
from the mountain
after the flood
murky, all murky
you sit there staring blankly
down
under
and you get carried away
floating
like one of the coconuts
not minding
direction
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Am Of The East And You Are Of The West
i am a man of the east
and i am muddy
you are the man of the west
and you are shiny
but that is not our main difference
i do not look for said difference
or any other kinds of differences
on an endless enumerations
i do not say you're guilty
i am not saying i am innocent
i do not say that you are the murderer
i am not saying that i am the victim
i do not say that you're a waste
i am not saying that i am this
stinking garbage waiting to be burned
i am not saying that you're the eagle
and i am this monkey
or this prey, a chick, to a hawk,
the predator of the sky
i am not saying that you're the alligator
and i am this gazelle drinking water on the river
that you claim you own and that you have the right
to eat me whole
that you are the shark of the food chain
and i am the dolphin
that you are the sun and i am just a
cloud drifting by your strong winds
far from it
i do not condemn
i keep my silence and you keep your gaze.
i am looking for our similarities
our sad eyes
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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View
A man,
More rare than fine gold;
Mankind,
More scarce than the pure gold of Ophir;
But when will this great tribulation start?
Formed from the womb and killed to be buried in the tomb,
But those days should be shortened for us to gain the end.
Open the Book and see the light,
Enslaved for 400 years! !
Like a kingdom which is shaken all around.
Humility,
Of our sins of the past to make change for the better;
Like Aids(1981) and HIV catching up to the human race.
Oh, how my mind rests on the mountain of Olives;
And like the days of Noah,
A reed like a measuring rod is needed for survival.
Land, water, air!
The warning labels to us all to learn like a student;
But hidden from the view of many without hope.
This point of view is desirable for food,
This act of love id hidden from a view,
But around the great river Euphrates came the war!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Philadelphia Revised
The sad images of Philadelphia popped out of my eyes today
And I could see the streets of Philadelphia where the homeless sleeps
And freeze to death
While Politicians, doctors, Dentists, lawyers, teachers, and nurses get rich
Day by day
But the homeless freeze to death in the streets of Philadelphia and even die
But I have to ask all of you fellow americans where is your heart?
And doesn't charity starts at home first?
Don't you have anything at home that you could give away to the Homeless so they could have something either to wear or to eat?
Why can't we feed the homeless?
I can't understand you fellow Americans?
Please put yourself in their shoes for a day and try to picture what do they Have to go throw everyday
Is it right for the homeless to sleep in the streets and freeze and eventualy Die in the streets of Philadelphia?
Would you fellow Americans go few days without eating?
I don't think so
Why should the homeless that lives in the streets of Philadelphia starve?
Fellow Americans it is time to think about others and not just yourself Because others live In America just like you
Fellow Americans do you have a heart?
Fellow Americans did you ever learned to share what you have with Others?
Fellow Americans America is a sad world because we waste 98% of our Food at home, restaurants, and supermarkets
And all that wasted food ends up in the dump
It is so ashame and so sad at the same time
But the truth is that we are running out of food
And there is not enough food to feed anyone in America
But the cost of food keeps going up
Because we have to pay the American farmers who plants the food and Transport the food to the supermarkets
poem by Aldo Kraas
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198
From the mountain
I will throw this stone
To the nearby river
Try to see if the
River gets murky
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Keeping That Faith In Love
when the journey
seems unbearable
you are walking barefoot
on a noonday
desert
no oasis, no palm
no Bedouin in sight to save you
it is just the angry
sun and
you
just the here and
the infinite
over there
you keep faith
in love
you do not ask
why or when
will this suffering end
love has given you
more than enough
overflowing
now it shall take back
what you have
forgotten
what you have taken for
granted
there was once paradise
you were that monkey
sitting over a mountain of gold
your hands have
the power
the spices of life
the opulence of cares
and the
rain of affections
moonlights of
whispers
myriad pleasures and joys
smokes
of hopes to the air
and sky
now it is the desert
the test
keep that faith
at the end of the desert is
the sea
the mountains and rivers
and trees
are just behind you
move
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Proudest Monkey
Swing in this tree
Oh I am bounce around so well
Branch to branch,
Limb to limb you see
All in a days dream
Im stuck
Like the other monkeys here
I am a humble monkey
Sitting up in here again
But then came the day
I climbed out of these safe limbs
Ventured away
Walking tall, head high up and singing
I went to the city
Car horns, corners and the gritty
Now I am the proudest monkey youve ever seen
Monkey see, monkey do
Then comes the day
Staring at myself I turn to question me
I wonder do I want the simple, simple life that I once lived in well
Oh things were quiet then
In a way they were the better days
But now I am the proudest monkey youve ever seen
Monkey see, monkey do
Monkey see, monkey do
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Crocodile That Ate Computers
There once was a cute crocodile
He lived happily in the River Nile
He liked the river a lot and its fish
Was really his favourite daily dish.
Since school was less his favourite
He remained for a long time illiterate
How to catch fish though he knew
Albeit his days in class were very few.
But a good tutor taught him math
A genius and polymath
The teacher earnest, tried his best
Explained everything with great zest.
Yet his student was always hungry
He could listen only hardly
Once he swallowed two computers
And found tasty all the numbers.
poem by Paul Hartal
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If your friend is already dead, and being eaten by vultures, I think it's okay to feed some bits of your friend to one of the vultures, to teach him to do some tricks. But ONLY if you're serious about adopting the vulture.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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There ‘re Vultures All Around
Vultures in the sky
Vultures on the ground
There are vultures all around
In search of prey
They move their eyes
They do not whisper
They do not shout
Silently wait
For the opportune time
Mercilessly kill
To fulfill their desire
By hook or by crook
Without bothering
Who the killed one is?
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Stars
sunny days in a winter world
scatter deception in her eyes
a glimmer of white has fallen
on her smile now she cries,
a sunny world has died these days
now I know, she longs for the days she now denies
chorus:
she has fallen from the stars
and I don't know what it was
the sugar bowl snowed in her tomorrow
yes, she calls upon the stars
on her way of broken glass
to take away that bowl of sorrow
that bowl of sorrow
yesterday's fading grey,
she forgot the kid she used to be
the pallor white she seeks for day by day,
I forgot the kid she used to be
now I know, she longs for the days she now denies
chorus
now I know, she longs for the days she now denies
chorus
song performed by by H-BlockX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Other Hand He Calls It The Thousand Monkeys
on the thousandth
monkey
you shout
o my god
i made it!
the monkey
hangs and shifts
place from
vine to vine
jumps on the river
and swims
finds a fish
and eats it
rises from the river
and dances on
a rock
under the morning
sun
quite exciting
the other monkeys
did the same
except for one
he sits by the window
watches the running of
time
dust after dust
dusk after dusk
waiting for
the big break of
his own life.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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