The Monkey God is a lady's ape.. don't let the door hit your ass on the way out, Boy George..
Towering King Koan leans
As he stands on the unanswered
To the curious Empire's state,
Building flowers in their planters.
In the waves of its wake
And necessary to their solving
The questions
On their brave quest
Repetition's constant moving;
A make-shift mantra mutiny,
A pirate pirates meaning
To what it is they're feeling.
And end resolve's futility;
How it never ends,
Never-ending longevity,
Is the removing of the Then
From all statements with an If.
All settings set to 'normal',
'Loop' keeps from edge's cliff;
Tireless run-on sentence;
A blessing and a gift.
Befuddled were the citizenry,
No fine sand there to sift;
Superhero Superman
Really never was God's gift.
How can it be?
How are they able
To stuff big stuff into little stuff;
The huge into the tiny?
Goldilocks's paradoxes;
Look closely for the middle;
It isn't really all that tough
To find her and her fanny
Sitting in the middle
Behind curtains, behind doors.
Answers in strange runes;
Come popping to the 'fore.
A Planet's Welcome to the 100th Monkey
Years later after the ninety-ninth,
Tribal shouts cracked our world open wide
That let the one hundredth monkey out;
Subject of beloved fabled prophecy.
Making soft wax of the hard hearts of men,
He arrived on a miracle of human will's dreams.
It was too critical that sooner
Would bring him quicker than later
To reach perfect percentage
Critical mass desperately needs,
Accomplishment of our tipping point glory
Was the proudest our planetary citizenry could boast.
With all said and done in whisper's happy cry,
It left leaving not one single eye dry.
Baby sprouts of human community
Sprung where the lasts gasps
Of Corporate skull duggery
Made their deep wounds of damage
Like any previous visit from inhuman savage.
Unquestioning evidence of Dawn's arrival;
A testament of clear declaration
That this be no empty claim.
The flags of nations burned
Along side celebratory fires
On beaches of joy abunantly paved;
No mourning took place during necessity's trial,
Sentencing, and condemnation's commencement;
A poetic smoke signal of this patriot demise.
The friends' disguise of a friend's enemies
Became butterfly-light aether condensate,
Transforming the rude opaque
To cleansing transparency.
Countenances became Partrige Family pure;
Humanity now united in contentment's ideal form;
This family with new wine skin
Fashioned lives in accordance
With freedom's kind cadence,
Dictating love's construction choices
For homes where doorways stayed open
Lacking locks or hiding place security system alarms.
Melodies sang from work's happy pounding
On anvil with hammer,
The dear tradesmen's tools
Of blacksmiths appearing from a milllenial past.
For the age of this career
Has made splendid resurrection
True to historical biblical narrative,
The glorious task of beating violent swords
Into ploughshares for Age's gentle man's hands.
This was now reality's Golden Child
Lovingly pushed by angelic hands
On whose seat was goose down soft,
A noteable feature of Heaven's swing.
What better gesture could any imagine
From a workmen's desire to thank our fortune,
The flood of Good's peace
Now covering our planet's
Now happy earth, amen and amen.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3CIhGXnntM
After today,
They no longer gave respect
To their Origin;
Instead, making fables
So as to make life
One no longer needing explanations
For mind nor emotion.
No longer agents of will;
Now puppets of meat
In prisons of determination;
Rejecting now eternal birthrights,
As fables of superstition
And foolish naivety.
Gone was intuition,
A gift used to raise suspicion
When mischief appeared
To cause havoc and turmoil,
Or to rain on their joy-filled parades.
Knowing was taboo,
Non-chemical-caused love, too.
Size took off its relative nature
To cast the spell of Insignificance.
So tiny they now were
That the blood was drained
From all of life's gleanings,
Making stones and trees
Surpass, in value,
The ones who dressed them
With names and their meanings.
Journey's path now crosses
Devastation Pass,
Where the shroud of darkness
Takes siege
And the Player feels full
The terrible effects
Of a lost soul's state.
From Corporate Management:
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