Best Simian Poems
Once simian stock from brambles
Orange buffoon whose ooze rambles
Orangutan clone
On narcissist’s throne
Owns ape-man’s old brain in shambles
Axe the old Don, a trump peter n piper
of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
ha air brushed pompous ****
Sunkist in Macy's window
then like a jackal hound, he doth run
after public outcry yelps
for his hide leaving
proletarian discord re: pyrrhic victory won.
Donald Duck Trump ™$ - a pompous ass
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination
while kissing thing kith
darting forked tongue sharp as bro kin glass
inciting banal deathly hallowed
expletives toward lass
sees – especially Fox Television
news anchor woman Megyn Kelly
(quite so many ill mannered indiscretions ago)
inducing said personality
to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults sacrilegiously
maliciously, noxiously, opprobiously
incriminating, hellaciously,
desecrating opportunistically as hiss oh piss
so…NO amp pull VOTE of confidence from me
(thus far ohm host halfway to 2020 election
toward such a volt char quite rude, snooty
arrogant simian with sass.
I van (terribly hard pressed)
to describe while sitting on me rump
how he oh bomb in lee rages
gnashing false teeth
Wilma backside doth slump
still blasting Democratic nomination
(pa hill a reed) as sham –
from special interest bro and sis turn pump
he, the epitome of
crass bloviation, a malignant lump
whose rants,
sans presidential outcome a shame
bullying with his millions beds this,
that and another woman to bareback jump
disseminating gene pool
birthing more Quakers
and additionally doth hump
the mass media as some foolhardy charade
and caricature of a frazzled grump
this arboreal clothed ape erected Taj Mahal
phallic symbol, where players dump
and gamble away hard earn cash
for his kitty, as if that cachet
to grind and bump
lambasting with maniacal
like "Stormy Dan" yells
leering oafish ill pout
while hair rum
(of red follicular) bulls ad hocks
atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed locks
resemble a flock
of bronzed sea gulls mocks
heady measly shaped Muppet Ox
dis eased cranial hologram shocks
of a cretaceous, facetious tocks
(sic) exogenous, insidious, and obstreperous vox.
Oh son of Saturn
still holding true
to your father's law
of limitation.
Will Neptune capture you
as Triton?
Expose your simian line!
Celebrate your difference!
Embrace your darkness!
For only in its depth
will the seed of any living thing
become fertile.
Yet you hide behind
a distorted window
of frozen atmosphere.
Still, the truth is revealed
in your eccentric orbit;
in your rebellious rotation.
But until you find courage,
until you take solitude,
until Charon views the fullness
of your unmasked face,
Who will pay his fee?
Who will journey Styx?
Like a tumbleweed aimlessly blowing in the wind
across infinitely open and wide prairie home companion land
(which wasteland famously epitomized by T.S. Elliot)
a barren vista ravages metaphorical landscape
of one measly mortal malcontent male
bumping and scraping along accursed habiliment
just barely avoiding and dodging diabolical demons
mercilessly and unrelentingly ready
to seduce this somewhat sanguine Simian
who finds himself amidst the pitfalls
of a tortured and twisted existence
racked with pinions describe bing
a demonic dragon filled dungeon
damp, dark, demented domains –
a veritable no man’s land
impossible to escape no matter how fast I -
as a foo fighter flee
from the fearful, fierce-some phantasmagoric forms
figments of my imagination seemingly real
tangible as bone and flesh
who haunt sacred crowded house of slumber
transmogrify me into a loathsome madman
ranting raving senseless gibberish and sic gobbledygook
perceived as metaphysically n philosophically insane
as soundgarden syllabification
from one womanly World Wide Web wayfarer
which virtual vagabond venerates vowels
and possesses means and tees to till verse
akin to a sorceress who waves a magic wand
to produce supreme sentences
weaves tantalizing terrific tweed topographic tundra’s
that this admirer of her artful and colorful poetic endeavors
prompts me to accompany my mindscape
as a thought-provoking troubadour
amidst the information super byways and highways
along winding labyrinths of critical thinking
or simply stepping o'er rolling stones
of silly rhymes without wing less reason
all the while giving subtle egress
into that chamber of secrets
long kept shut tight to maintain
that sure footed stance of solitude
whose only entities happened
to constitute trappings of literary lugubriousness
those tombs of largesse identified
as great works and masterpieces of literature
yet careful to avoid complete intimacy
lest that cherished solitude shattered
and a heart rent asunder
twin tower ring inferno imp perils of loss that provide
an understandable cautionary tale
to the author of this rambling missive
a most profoundly perceptive acute Ape man
touched to the quick with a bit of angel dust
aware that this agonized and angst riddled arboreal beast
contents himself with the confines of cyberspace!
The Power of Drugs and Love
There was a time I ruled the world
with a brand new car mentality
using large words to articulate
my aura to sway the gentility
at a certain time in history
but soon I was to segue
to a different malleability
Confident to enter a vice
let freedom ring with Drugs galore
but as time passed on my destiny waned
to an old used car mentality
I had lost my keen acuity
slowly then quickly
to drift into obscurity
With no means to keep myself adrift
a worn out shell of my former self
the time had come to need a lift
with this large simian on my back
that weighed me down so heavily
I had no recourse but to seek
assistance as my will was weak
My kin and friends felt for my plight
and vowed to help me day or night
then began the dauting task
the journey to the Promised Land
with the aid of angels came a cure
God instilled his love in me
and now my heart and soul are pure
In memory to an old friend
My Sullivano photographed bad
He was a simian ghost so sad
He was dispirited
Now he posed for an ad
" Uncle Sully goes to nuptial bed"
Meenie stands erect in the mews
This morning she has heard a news
Sully has gone to hell
To collect a bombshell
Safe for a ghost? she has to muse
My pet ghost Sullivan was quite beyond the pale
He smoked my tobacco pipe and sipped my ale
He danced before my wife
Who was a squid in real life
She Kicked his butt and he started chasing her tail
Sully kissed Meenie on the spur of the moment
She was nursing her ass a cute boil to foment
Love really ached
The cute boil was baked
Meenie screeched like a ***** Sully made no comment
Cubism or impressionism
Wife Laura looked through her prism
She saw the open sea
Made her eternal plea
God give me back my squidism
Sullivan/Sully/ Sullivano= my pet ghost
Meenie= my female tabby cat
Laura= my wife a squid
little monkey face little Dragon Monkeys sway they’re dancing orchids * * Note -Flowers Imitating Monkeys--Dracula simian, and Orchis simia
Which Heritage Should I Embrace?
By Elton Camp
According to what some scientists say
Little different from a chimp is my DNA
“From common ancestors you both came.
Evolution is the process that we now name.”
“You and the chimpanzee are now both alive
Only because natural selection let you survive.”
Since they assure me that this is absolutely true,
There is a tempting action I wonder if I may do
May I pick the heritage with which to identify
If so, being a chimp is something I might try
Nobody expects a chimpanzee any laws to obey
For animals are free and not constrained that way
Also, he doesn’t have a monthly mortgage to pay
A chimp can live free in a tree & be happy to stay
If he should happen to locate a coy simian mate
He needn’t bother with sending flowers or a date
The chimp has no need to make payments on a car
Since he can swing on a vine if he’s going very far
And when the chimpanzee finally comes to die
To assign him to a blazing place nobody will try
6/6/17
Are we part simian?
A centered or off kilter equilibrium
Near or far from the prime meridian
And any kind of amphibian
As well as snowflake obsidian
Items and objects that do or don't require lithium
And or iridium
Choices, accidents, and nature could lead to oblivion
No need for a idiom
I wasn't once ever kidding when
I said I was part Native American aka Indian
Plus or minus
Times of peace and crisis
Endless noise, or pure silence
What exactly is righteous?
Never will I bow to any highness
Another wanting to see me lifeless
So damn typical in this day and age, little to nothing surprises
People being indecisive
Or divisive
Relying on hiding through disguises
All others except themselves are considered sacrifices
With you I wouldn't ever have an alliance
Or give you guidance
Put what's left of you under redwood giants
So that it couldn't be traced by any improvements in forensic science
Sully* was back in the saddle
up the creek without a paddle
Meenie stole his hat
followed a stout rat
With cookies his hands did meddle
Sully* is Sullivan my pet simian ghost
Meenie is my cat
Both are naughty
He sits through eons observing whirling
galaxies in spangled drops dangled from webs
rocked by wind, plucked like instruments
whose music only he can hear; webs walked
by a furred arachnid, angle-legged, which moves
from thread to thread as though on stilts.
Fascinated by a spectrum split from sunlight
by a bead of dew, he intercepts the colored
bands with extended fingers of one fat hand
and gurgles his delight, exhibiting a still
toothless smile. His brain a sponge to soak
up all knowledge the universe contains,
this salivating son of simian evolution
pulls the silvery web he watches
from between the wall and faucet,
destroying in a moment
what centuries produced.
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I am writing to you for guidance if you please,
I’m seeing a Howler Monkey who likes it when I’m on the stage doing my striptease.
I can’t say that he’s not exuberant or that I feel unappreciated,
But when he yells it will scare the pants right off of the uninitiated.
If I’m up in the spotlight, doing the bump and grind or swinging from a pole,
There’s a deafening howl and everyone drops their pants before I reach my goal.
My boss would like it if my clothes came off Instead of those who watch me work.
I’m afraid that he’ll tell my boyfriend to quiet down and then he’ll go berserk.
I know that I’ll never do my best unless he’s there to watch me on the stage,
How can I tell him to quiet down without hearing his howls of rage?
Dear Gentle Reader, you may not know it but I’ve had some experience with peeling.
When I used to come on stage to do my act the apes would stack up to the ceiling.
I would hit the light dressed as a banana and invite them each to tug on my peel,
I’d love to hear them all as they each gave out with a delighted simian squeal.
One night while I was doing the act and about to land a banana split,
I heard a yell from a Howler Monkey coming from the orchestra pit.
His screams of joy were so sincere that I married him the very next day,
My advice to you is to do the same and leave your boss nothing more to say.
And if you keep your job doing the strip or end up writing a column like this,
Trust me when I tell you that you’ll never get tired of hearing his howls of bliss.
I held the strap taut, bowing down at the dirt,
six feet or more, the rectangular hole,
no sweetness or welcome, just earth on the lid
where resided the bones of the previous soul.
Lowered with care, my brother and I
and two other bearers toiling behind,
the cheap gleaming wood decked with cheap plastic brass,
to a standstill of rest, to an end of a kind.
“The Lord is my Shepard,” we murdered off key
as the wind blew accompaniment over the hill;
ravens took flight to the overcast sky,
rain fell sporadically, spattered with chill.
I remembered her photos of when she was young,
spread on the frayed pinafore there in her lap,
a patchwork of sepia, white and grey dreams
she no longer remembered, her mind set to snap.
The scant recognition then blurred in her eyes,
drained simian brown, no more clear and blue;
her head wisps of silver, mere gossamer strands,
adrift and unkempt, no light shining through.
Her sad loss of reason, the slump of her spine,
the cloud-bank rolled in with no instant of pause,
the stealing of dignity, ravage of time,
the theft of her life, of the woman she was.
I cried her no tears, assigned her no grief,
brushed the rose in my pocket, the flower I hid;
when no one was looking, I bade her farewell,
dropped the rose and a kiss down onto the lid.
When asked about tributes, the family replied,
“She didn’t want flowers, so we’ve done as bid,”
I sat there in silence, bit down on my tongue,
for I knew, from one person, she did.
DONALD TRUMP – RE: DUCKS --
this portion dashed off
(while dry ving an open white hearse slay
so many months back before
slated him slotted the most coveted
Casino biggest win - before the political imbroglio
much more upsetting than today
- - - - - - - - - -
Axe the old don
A trump peter n piper of incredulous hellish crud - be gone
With the ha air brushed pompous ****
so the Macy jackal hound doth run
After public outcry yelps
for his hide and proletarian discord won!
- - - - - - - - - -
Donald Duck Trump ™$ - a pompous ass
makes war with his big brass
knuckles and bucket of crass
maligns vis a vis character assassination with bro kin glass
inciting banal deathly hallowed expletives
toward lass sees – especially
Fox Television news anchorwoman Megyn Kelly
inducing said personality to bear the brunt of brutish mass
of vitriolic n vile insults from incriminating verbal pass
so…ex post facto viz mine NO VOTE from me
thus this digital screed to disallow him
to accept the oath of office, cuz he will hurrahs
from such a snooty arrogant simian with sass!
- - - - - - - - - -
I van a try to describe while sitting on me rump
How he oh bomb in lee rages with gnashing teeth
while back a slump
Blasting Democratic nomination as a sham –
From special interest bro and sis turn pump
He, the epitomy of crass bloviation, a malignant lump
Whose rants sans presidential outcome a sham rocking red bull
in a China shop with his millions beds this,
- - - - - - - - - -
That and another woman to bareback jump
Disseminating gene pool –
Obama null lee birthing more Quakers
and additionally doth hump
The mass media as some foolhardy charade
And caricature of a frazzled grump
This arboreal clothed ape
Erecting Taj Mahal phallic symbol where players dump
And gamble away hard earn cash
- - - - - - - - - -
For his hello kitty, as if that cachet to grind and bump
Lambasting with that maniacal leering pout
while hair rum runs rampant with red bulls
In a China shop atop his bulbous aerosol sprayed heady measly shaped
ulterior motive aimed his sights to become Pastor of Muppets
Dis eased cranial hologram
Of a cretaceous, facetious and insidious mump.
----------------------------------------------------------
By: Baron von Ivan Mal N. Ya.
Dear Miss Monkey Manners, I hope that you can solve a problem for an old baboon,
I’ve said some things to a dear friend of mine and it makes me feel like I’m a buffoon.
I said that, “God created Charles Darwin because he was so disappointed in monkeys.”
How was I to know when I spoke that he and Darwin’s uncle were at one time bunkies?
I only meant it as a passing humor aimed at pointing out our man like flaws,
I didn’t know that this friend and Charles Darwin shared the same grandpas?
Anyway, now he’s mad at me and called me a bigot so now I need a plan,
I want to show him, that except for their smell, there’s nothing I hold against man?
But if he doesn’t get over it pretty quickly and take that chimp from off his shoulder,
I’m going to get sick of his blue butt attitude and kick him in his banana holder.
My Dear and Gentle Monkey “Man”, I think that the time has come for action,
A stinging shot to his low land region might give us both great satisfaction.
This baboon friend of yours is a member of a new and obnoxious breed,
We must be rid of him and his ilk before political correctness plants a seed.
When the time comes that we can’t make a joke about how man came from we apes,
Is the same time that a never ending stream of flying monkeys from my butt escapes.
Don’t you dare offer up a single syllable of a word aimed at reconciliation.
To make a slam of the works of man is the hallmark of simian civilization.
Instead, the next time you see a group of men walking through your forest setting,
Dare your misguided chum to go up and talk to them, he’ll swing away I’m betting.
There is only one thing more distasteful to me than the babblings of a liberal Baboon,
And that’s one who, when forced to face his own convictions, babbles a different tune.