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It was a cold night
Sweatshirt type weather
Oops, a hoodie
An unexpected meeting
Accidentally sitting
Near one another
Fleshly arousal
Tingles upon the skin
Hair that stood on end
Though eyes
Never made contact
Spiritual eyes did
Familiar spirits
Well known to one another
Though, never known at all
The energy embrace
Would not be broken
‘Til the time
Had expired
The journey
Would be hard to over come
Though that imitation love
Like wild growing flowers
Don’t be fooled, just weeds
Exploding from the ground
Beholding the imitation bloom
This rhetoric is from
An imitation romance novel
The voice of beauty; all but silenced
A cockroach, sits in the corner
The Contemplator Contemplating, leads to madness
Well, so they say
Hope, creates another day
Long as the moon decides to stay
The minds focus on time, not given
Body regrets, time, that has passed
All but walk on a spinning ball
Leading, to the same destination
Ignorance, destroys what intelligence brings
Human value
Less than a dog, these days
Give an overabundance
Approbation on the great difference
between a civilized barbarian
Or that of a savage
Only showing
That one can speak
While the other, just mumbles
Tongues, best served to be removed
Yet the two of them
Still can't think
Portion of the world
Expects a monkey in a space ship
To save them
While another section
Expects some, drunken river boat captain
To lead them
Few understand
They rule their own universe....
Answers quickly to a bold tongue
A powerful mind
Only for the contemplator
Who is bum shit crazy
Of course
Labeled, by the brilliant ones in society
The two classes of barbarians
Fight for an argument
The monkey in the spaceship
holding a banana in one hand
A golf club in the other
Races across a moonlit sky
Off, to another fund raiser
Meanwhile
A riverboat captain
Pours another one of his famous Rum N Cokes
The Contemplator contemplating
Stops to ask......
"What is the reason for an argument other than to enforce
what opinion should be followed and the attitude of I rule?"
The crowd looks in dumbness
So, the Contemplator asks again
"What did one really rule but a simple idea?"
The drunken river boat captain
That everyone seems to want
Finishes his 15th Jack N Coke
Scratching his ass
Gets the great idea
He is ready to lead the ranks
But first
He needs to get his drunk ass
On the deck of the boat
The result of the mindless
That lets him think
Yet again
Makes another, irrational mistake
Taking it upon himself
Making the contemplator, walk the plank
Meanwhile
The river washes away such futility
Floating, face down
Only purpose
Feeding fish
Tear away at flesh
Exposing bone
Soon will rest
Where not even angels tread
The Contemplator
Must have been insane
All but lost
Thoughts leading to much distress
According to the drunken
Wisdom inspired
River boat captain
Thinking, too much of a dangerous task
Then one day, the moon realizes
He's not even getting paid for what he does
People, on the ball that spins
so, ungrateful
He just says
"Fuck this!"
All the while
Barbarians fight
Over who won the argument
The cockroach looks up then states
"What a chaotic mess this is gonna be!"
In the crazy event that follows
Civilized barbarians just wet themselves
Look at the monkey in the sky
Flying a spaceship
The MONKEY
Making some chimp noises that translate
"Fuck me, I can't land this pile!"
Then The captain of the vessel
Who was so quick
To toss the contemplator to the sea
Sitting in the corner sucking his thumb
While a billion, pissed off non-talking barbarians
stand over him with clubs
The voice of The Contemplator
That had the balls to ask
Now all but bones
Laying on the bottom, of some shit infested sea bed
Where not even angels tread
All the fully-wise river boat captain can say
as his brains are getting bashed
"Bullets would feel better than clubs!"
The Monkey, flying the spaceship
CRASHES into Mt. Everest
Civilized barbarians, are all but wrecked
Meanwhile, the cockroach
That no one seemed to notice
Is doing his song and dance
For in the end; he's the only one left
For a quick prank, I made a bumper sticker. It stated Fuck the Pope. I placed it on the rear of the Holy Priest’s car. Then had the pleasure of watching him drive around town. A few that laughed with me. He couldn’t decipher why all the stares, why all the laughter. Mrs. Goody helped him remove it. What beasts could do such things? Always someone to ruin the fun. These are just humans playing gods. None have the answers, no, not one!
It’s not impossible to climb out of the abyss