I don't take one side or two
In disputes about who’s right
And who’s wrong – it could be you
Or it could be me tonight
But the next day it may turn
The other way round, the pendulum
Swings and all I had to learn
Will be lost in setting sun
Now the nightmares get too real
Heroes drop their marble masks
Neanderthals tore down the deal
With the Pithecanthropus
And the Cro-Magnons are baffled
Why does it have to start again?
Reptiles shed the skin and set
The new manual for the brain
Don’t attach me to the schemes
That you treasure or despise
I’m the mantis in your dreams
Far beyond thy truths or lies.
~ An Eight-Line Treatise on 'Settler Colonialism' ~
The Apache beat up on the Cheyenne
and the Iroquois on the Sioux
Mohawks ‘mohawked’ the Mohicans
Aztecs turned the Cree into stew …
Now Europeans are called ‘settler colonialists’
but who does America really belong to
Probably Neanderthal and Cro-Magnon man
~ dispossessed by Indians too
Jokers galore as two men pretenD
old, demented both, but greedy too
eyeing leadership of the nation
Both unfit! yet are in this gambiT
insight they lack, no wisdom so far
Doomed is US! to world peace bid adieu
Each is out there to do us all harm
No to them both! need good young new crop!
In caves prehistoric
Static from minds ecstatic
Lively from minds elastic
Passion from minds romantic
Impression from minds pedantic
Bizarre from minds frantic
From Cro-Magnon to Warhol’s antics
Art pleas images and not semantics.
When the Cro-Magnan’s sat down to eat their fare,
The master screamed, and went on a tear.
Grunting, ‘Woman you goofed,
Coz on this saber tooth,
I bit through one of your yard long gross hairs!’
She yelled, ‘That’s what you get when being fed,
After dragging me around by my head.
So enough is enough
And I’m getting tough.’
He quipped, ‘Yeah, just like the food on this spread.’
Although words from both of them sounded brave,
She truly thought of him as a low knave.
And he was amiss
Aiming for a kiss,
Coz on that night he slept out of the cave.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Australopithecus:
Denisovan, Neanderthal
Cro-Magnon, H. Sapiens
and I, Robot
would very much like you to meet us
L-ine
H-as
Y-ielded
N-ote's
Z-estful
M-essage
O-f
S-alvation
Q-uietlyU-sing
I-mpressive
S-pectacular
A-cro stic
Topic: Birthday of Lhynz V. Mosquisa (March 05)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Everybody and their cousin wants their haircut today.
The sign is in the window as usual – stylist needed.
Great opportunity. Apply within.
It should say ten stylists needed.
Many empty stations.
Not sure what is happening here.
The usual cutters are not around anymore.
The young ones are beeping and blinking on cell phones.
Ignoring the old lady customers who are trying to shout to each other
From under old fashion beehive dryers.
The beeping and blinking
And ignoring of customers
Is driving me nuts.
If I did not look like
an unkempt, Cro-magnon man today
I would be gone.
Without the wait.
Or the bad haircut
From a stylist who
is looking at her phone the whole time she is slashing my mess.
Symbol of mass transportation,
crucial as a pair of wings;
I wonder where we'd be without it
in the broader scheme of things?
It's hard to say just how we'd cope,
or how we'd get around.
I must confess a nagging fear
we'd stay right on the ground,
go no further than Cro-Magnons
dragging women by the hair,
as they forage in the jungle
lugging trophies to their lair.
Our trips would be restricted
to the tribes across the marsh;
we'd just better hope they're friendly,
not belligerent or harsh.
The prospects weren't too sanguine
that we'd subjugate the land
until the wheel's invention
guaranteed our upper hand.
Symbol of mass transportation,
crucial as a pair of wings;
wonder where we'd be without it
in the broader scheme of things?
It's hard to say just how we'd cope,
indeed, how we'd get around.
I must confess a nagging fear
that we'd stay right on the ground;
not much further than Cro-Magnons
dragging women by the hair,
as they forage in the jungle
lugging trophies to their lair.
Our trips would be restricted
to the tribe across the marsh;
we'd just better hope they're friendly,
not belligerent or harsh.
The prospects weren't too sanguine
that we'd subjugate the land
until the wheel's invention
guaranteed our upper hand.
Symbol of mass transportation,
crucial as a pair of wings;
wonder where we'd be without it
in the broader scheme of things?
It's hard to say just how we'd cope,
or how we'd get around.
I must confess a nagging fear
we'd stay tied to the ground;
go no further than Cro-Magnons
dragging women by the hair,
as they forage in the jungle
lugging trophies to their lair!
Our trips would be restricted
to the tribe across the marsh;
we'd just better hope they're friendly,
not belligerent or harsh.
The prospects weren't too sanguine
that we'd subjugate the land
until the wheel's invention
guaranteed our upper hand.
People Not Prolific During Neolithic
With some subjects can be able to concur
Then regarding others may not be so sure
For instance human and world development
And why from God all of this had been sent.
For our creation what was it God had in mind
If we did it would be like blind leading the blind
Maybe in the Bible there is much more to obtain
Without and Abel could there have been a Cain?
Of course, at times, we must start to realize
After tries and tries by us may be a surprise
As information grows that we collect and garner
About agricultural activity and life of a farmer.
People were never prolific during Neolithic
Times as well as period which was Paleolithic
Would people prefer to be called Cro-Magnon
Or perhaps Australopithecus and on and on.
Paying a tribute to current events of the day
We are all here still wondering which way
How each of existences eventually arrived
And though all the ages we still survived.
I just woke up at two in the morning after
I had dreamed about writing this poem.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
female licks the male
a state of nirvana greets
Cro Magnons and bats
Villanelle : If only you knew what the rest in silence think
(if a guy not so Sterling be)
If only you knew what the rest in silence think
You wouldn’t rush to hang him on a string
Look at his gal and see why he’s such a stink
We’re all Africans whichever way you blink
If you fathered Man do not your sons sting
If only you knew what the rest in silence think
If your girl leant close in Magic Johnson’s clink
Wouldn’t you bounce up and with envy wring
Look at his gal and see why he’s such a stink
Leave the guy alone and let him jealous sink
His gal will drop him and millions you bring
If only you knew what the rest in silence think
Be not so self-righteous and haughty think
No sweet Blackie stuck on Whitey you not sting
Look at his gal and see why he’s such a stink
Lucy’s blood drains down Cro-Magnon’s brain link
All the world’s but one long genetic string
If only you knew what the rest in silence think
Look at his gal and see why he’s such a stink
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Symbol of mass transportation,
crucial as a pair of wings;
I wonder where we'd be without it
in the broader scheme of things?
It's hard to say just how we'd cope,
or how we'd get around.
I must confess a nagging fear
we'd stay right on the ground,
go no further than Cro-Magnons
dragging women by the hair,
as they forage in the jungle
lugging trophies to their lair.
Our trips would be restricted
to the tribes across the marsh;
we'd just better hope they're friendly,
not belligerent or harsh.
The prospects weren't too sanguine
that we'd subjugate the land
until the wheel's invention
guaranteed our upper hand.
Related Poems