Best Monkey Business Poems
testing boundaries already ~ he's not yet two
AP: 1st place 2025
Submitted on January 30, 2019 for contest PITHY PANTS sponsored by MAUREEN MCGREAVY - RANKED 3RD
Monkeys were never us;
our entrance is more than theory.
I came standing erect and complete.
The dust was to indulge (except of the tree)
in the place provided, where the voice walked
in the cool of the day.
Leopards and lambs,
like Puppy Yellow
and the calico moving balls of yarn;
the fallen, like a snake,
wooed the woman that queried
and she went away towing her husband.
I am out of character, image,
likeness of the Divine
whose flood sculpted mountains and isles,
there, dividing men
and painted them
in new colors with freezing fingers.
Sasquatch, your blurred trace,
speaks loud of the instrument now used.
Of me Ibrahim was assured.
The pyramids are mathematics the God teaches;
their wisdom raised the boulders
(the two Gods that share the Spirit).
I mosey through a sea to be here;
this point where they are history?
Monkeys were never us. If so,
who limits the fruition? I still see them
tree-hopping.
I am Enoch walking with him,
lodging far afield the daughters of men.
I occur with an enormous bang
far superior to a hypothesis.
Mind and heart know the way of flow,
Opt to receive the grace of zest;
Now sense the glow of love that shows,
Keep and achieve your affluent best;
Eye with delight bliss with sure ease,
Yes dare to seek blessings most grand.
Bright words spark sight of scented peace,
Urge your bold peaks in joy's lifespan;
Sights and sounds swirl and call you now,
Indulge the heart with happy days;
Niche then your world with fond endow,
Expand fine start through rainbow rays;
Set your mind clear with faith that grounds,
Soar beyond fear to peace profound.
Leon Enriquez
09 February 2016
Singapore
I once got myself a monkey
(God knows what breed his was).
He was black, with dark, big eyes--
A devil-thing you could never pass.
Pearly-teeth shone in his mouth,
When you but pleased this thing;
We'd get-along well together,
(Me thought we could do with some training)
And, I tried teaching him
And taught him little tricks,
But my word! The poor thing,
Got rounded in the basics:
A few things of course, took him time,
While others, he could never learn:
Like when I said,"Sit Marcel",
He'd start to jump up and run...!
(Which wasn't quite the big deal,
For he was still learning what to do)
At least it was better than
When his filth I found in my shoe!
I coached him about 'toilet-culture'--
Taught him where men with a pot always rushed;
When that one day, on missing my spects,
I found them only being flushed...
Nonetheless, we glued well as pals,
But for a diner's calamity:
When I ask him once,"Get me that rice",
He sat on the tray and chose to pee!
He sought a perch upon my head
So I always had unkempt hair;
He'd sit, digging deep and hard,
I don't know for what thing up there.
(A small cheery, childish thing,
He'd always place himself with me)
But if he'd not torn my favourite shirts,
I say, I'd be much, much happy...
We used to talk as great pals:
He'd face me then, and play his part,
Although upon losing interest,
He'd slap me, scratch me, and cut me short!
This training and all friendliness,
Sure made each grow fond of the other
When I realized, he had to leave somehow
(Leaving me to shrug and shudder):
As a final mischief of his,
He'd got himself in a dirty puddle,
Then placed himself in the cupboard,
Disturbing order to a state of muddle...!
When that I asked him to get down,
He looked at me somewhat askance;
As if he knew what it was--
The unpleasant thing that had come to chance...
The grin on that face I was to miss
I know--the parting was like Hell...
He knew not what would change for us,
I still miss good ol'Marcel...
It's a blockade I hate.
It always gets in the way
of progress I want to make.
Absent, I feel trapped.
Can't escape, can't fade away.
Unable to evade, I am afraid.
I fight the battle every day.
.......What more can I say?
-Angel Fatale-
Monkey Business
The monkey’s brother said: “Mom’s gonna have a fit”
The giraffe replied “I’ve got the ring he must commit.”
They looked at her and said “WOW”
They looked at him and said “HOW”
He answered: “My brother put me up to it.”
John G. Lawless
8/25/2017
Here's where I left behind
Back in time
Trying to find
What's in Monkeys mind
In 2006, 08
Or maybe 09
And the years grow longer
The deeper I ponder
What's in Monkey's mind
And Father time
Not being so Kind
Not wasting no time
Trying to find
What's in Monkeys mind
Here is where I return
In the year of 2021
To show to the world what I've learned
All this time
Trying to find
What's in Monkeys mind
Deep inside the darkest part of Monkey's mind
I'll come to find
That time
is never wasted
If you're wasted
All the time
So we don't have time
For your little mind
To grasp the fact
Life's about death
How fast we can die
And just for that fact
I like my mind right where was at
Because time
is never wasted
If you're wasted
all the time
So if you Don't mind
I will take this time
And smoke this dime
As I try to find
What's in Monkeys mind
once a wise monkey named stan
dreamt of becoming a man
so to fool all the rest
taped a note to his chest
my wife use to date tarzan.
There was a fine monkey from Peru
Who hated the zoo’s vegetable stew.
So to get a banana
He’d turn **** to camera
and they'd throw him a banana or two!
Monkey business is pure fun filled play
Tricking and chatting throughout the day
Climbing banana trees their own way
If you invade them try to be merry and gay
If you do not, they will chase you away.
If you are silly and cute they may let you stay.
They let interlopers visit every other Tuesday.
Want to go with me? What do you say?
Monkey Business
The bear was quite happy,
or so it seemed, alone in a
damp, cold, gray stone den.
Until the children on a trip
visited the zoo. Riotous, noisy,
and unsupervised bullies all
jeering at the bear, throwing
peanuts and insults at this
hulking, lonely, beast.
Cowering amid the debris
he rails against the onslaught
his roar awakening,
weakly at first, then fueled
by an instinctual rage,
his innate desire to be free.
The monkeys, acrobatic
cheerleaders, urge the
bear to action while
preparing their own
response to the mob
of neatly dressed cowards.
John G. Lawless
Monkey business
“I say how about
breakfast at The New Farmer’s”
Our day of picking and consuming done
no hunger induced nightmares, we rest dusk to dawn
check on the young ones. Are we all here?
tomorrow we return for another early breakfast
at The New Farmers'
it's sugar cane on the menu
well done, defoliated by fire
sweet smell of wild honey
a hive of flavours of molasses
wash down milky white green corn
we're going on tortoise-paced on fast food
centipedes, scorpions rocking our pillows
going green for the season, shedding the load off
Triangle's aged sugar mills
we have suffered enough, chums
in the hands of the farmer, old and new alike
globalising of our territories, present day terrorism
landmines all over
Were they seeding sweet potatoes?
Long rooted explosives have been going off
in the crossfire of war ghosts
sounds of corn popped in shovels
by rustic labourers for lunch
tearing our species limb from limb
we dare not bore deep into the woods for sustenance
Reap where they have sown!
Yeah!
They will see red, develop high BP
when we up our tails, march with a swag
Ho-me! Ho-me! Ho-me! Ho-me!
cobs, canes in snouts and armpits
Their sentinel will go round anthills like the looney canine
of the long-playing "His Master's Voice," ever so poised
for a jump, off the vinyl scratches, stuck in the groove
giving Chacma a bad name;
“Command field, roger
reporting marauding baboons
destroyed plots alpha to romeo
zeroing into zulu, roger
send delta oscar gulf sierra
over and out."
From: The office of Spritual Advisor
Re: God And Country
The 600 pound gorilla in the room
has a name and is coming real soon
They can jive and pussyfoot around
but most folks know He's coming to town
Everything He said is now coming true
at least to soldiers like me and you
They cant hear those four horsemen running
everything they bring has already come in
Can we send those four horsemen back?
Yes sir mister, that's a fact!
The 600 pound gorilla's still in the room
I think He's waiting for an answer from you
Now this aint easy
for some it's too hard
We know about the gorilla
we just can't call him lord
What do you do when you
have a problem like this
One simple answer
you put Him to the test
To put you in office we stood in lines very long
Don't make a mistake and let our country go wrong
From Washington to Bush the message is still faith
so don't give up on God's unfailing grace
The beginning of that faith may be hard
but it will start with these words
"So help me God."
As the girl went up stairs and entered the hall
Having lightened her cares she began to stall
Still a bit unsure and really wanting to know
She opened up Dad's door a little hesitant though
So now of Dad she would ask where we had come from
But that was a simple task like just adding up the sum
From apes of course he said and honey we evolved
So confused in her head having the problem become unsolved
Running back down to the parlor as mom went outside
Giving such a loud holler mom thought someone had died
What is it my dear what has gotten you so upset
Now come over here and tell me what has beget
You said I was God's Creation and I was so special and unique
But Daddy said it's like an equation, even though apes couldn't speak
Looking up at the blue sky and then setting her daughter on her knee
With a little sigh saying, I was speaking about my side of the family
Is free verse poetry or 'falutin name for prose,
In truth, perhaps, more saunter in the park?
A tawdry muse that's dressed in Sunday's store-bought clothes,
A mud locked boat aspires to be an ark,
An uncut diamond lacking heart or ring,
A song, perhaps, no troubadour can sing?
Not saying here that prose can never serve an end,
Not all (of value) shines the same as gold.
And time has proven lucky agate is a friend
If marble competition's all that's rolled,
If you've a thought (you'd like to live in time),
You'll never do much better than a rhyme.
Ten thousand monkeys taught to type (if they are game),
Might write this poem (should bananas hold),
But I would argue long and hard it's not the same,
Before the verse get's found, might Hell be cold?
Their output also steeped in monkey dew:
I'm not that keen on any verse! Are you?
Long Tooth
April 20, 2018