Animals in top hats,
Ride bicycles en road,
Spoked wheels and pedaled spats,
Round about, in ornamental spode.
Animals in monocles,
Spectate in obeisance,
Cuffed by inked chronicle:
Renascence-linked complacence.
Animals in Model Ts,
Toot along en route,
To queue below burlesque marquee,
Bloating bruit by gloat and brute.
Animals in suits,
Sustained by entree manner,
Tasting morsels, cheering lutes;
To labor, bond and banner.
Animals in petticoats,
Puffed in crinoline,
Corsets sweep beneath the bloat,
Ensure the meal’s unseen.
Animals in linen,
Lain in duvets, eider down,
Sunken pelt a skin had been in,
Before its fur had come to town.
Animals in animal,
Adorned disguise of dermis,
Woven threads of blastemal,
Posture vermin with a vermis.
Animals in animals,
Piquant bones to gnaw,
Ascetic starving cannibals,
Feed on creed and law.
Animals in groups,
Extensions of the self,
Lain in egg to cracked coops,
Atop a thrifted shelf.
Instead of rounding out our edges,
To conform our shape to objects,
End the heed, the empty pledges,
Be animal: love and sex.
Daybreak Words Upon the Morning
David J Walker
Awaiting words
That will burst upon the day
Suffused in first light before the sun
Reveals itself
Notice the clouds clinging
To the sky
Hiding the blinding blend
Of blood red orange suffused in the
Magenta tinge
Of a distant sun
Arising
There are secrets to unravel
As the day begins
There will be sweet breads and
Ripe fruits served on
Spode Blue Italian China
There will be news to disseminate at the table
In a failed effort of Omniscience
There will be moods to moderate in mimicry
There will be appointments to remember and
Then forget in emendation
Words burst upon the morning
as if condemned and then
pardoned
again and again
overnight
Leaders whom we followed
Are very rare, sporadic woad
Who cures by brain stowed
With lots of info like Spode.
Mrs. Jyoti Kumta, a Daniel, rode
Like a strong horse strode
And asked all of us to goad
Upon values, which we towed
Earlier on an unknown road.
Thanks to Jyoti who mowed
Our ignorance and sowed
Seeds of cognition and glowed.
She completely made an abode
In our hearts and not be decode.
In my dark night’s reality,
I awoke on a beautiful morning
with my garment starched and standing
firm just like the mighty iroko.
walking to and fro life’s avenue;
searching for a street sign that says
SUCCESS AVENUE.
yet nothing I could find.
I tried going through the exit by my right
nothing I could find.
and yet the number I knew,
7th SUCCESS AVENUE.
I know the gray roof that shines upon Soyinka,
all the fame and accolades that rests upon that great city.
I know all the lights that shines across Anne Sexton’s mercy street.even I could still remember the cupboard of Spode,the boat of ice, solid silver where the butter sits in neat squares like a strange giants teeth on a big mahogany table.
yes I know it well.
But my SUCCESS AVENUE, I could not find.
where did you go? SUCCESS AVENUE
All day long on my knees have I been
praying and seeking for thine intervention
oh God most high,
lead me not astray as my SUCCESS AVENUE i seek to find.
On my own i can’t do it,
but only by thine sweet loving aide.
You may use this toilet, but please do not spoil it,
Quit being mean by keeping it clean.
Flush it with water, not with what’s meant to drink,
If you care for others you won’t let it stink,
Ensure your aim is always true,
Use the right place meant for doing what you do.
Never leave bits and pieces lying around,
Inside the potty, not made on the ground.
Others may step on it, perhaps fall and trip?
Just because you made, an uncivil slip.
Always put value on that gleaming commode,
Whether in ceramic or moulded from spode.
Inside your home it would be ever so shining,
Why leave some strangers all worked up and whining?
Paying respect to everything going in under your snout,
Also pay attention to whats coming out.
-Prince Freakasso
(Painter & Poet)