Wednesday, September 02, 2009

Une Nocturne Bananoise

A gorilla, feeling tired and bored,
Nestled in and laxly snored
To dreams about a younger, wilder jungle.
He dreamt of days before his birth
When apes recalled a hero's worth
Chimps were chimps and each monkey had an uncle.

He dreamt a wild and simple time
When, as intended, 'twere no crime
To jump and claw and chase and bite and pillage.
The babies acted reverently
Toward mighty males, such as he,
And each new tree could be tomorrow's village.

Oh, glory! How the she-beasts knew
To move and stretch and preen and do
What must be done to keep a king like him for keeping.
But the gorilla was brusquely awakened,
The dream of glory cruelly taken,
When a boy outside yelled "look, mama! He's sleeping!"

The jungle of gorillish dreams,
Comes from stories, so it seems,
Told of adventures, warfare, famine and disasters
By exhibits to their own sweet brood
Of days gone by beyond the zoo
Where humans teach their children they are masters.
-Alejandro Zaius

BOY, n. A transitional stage between primate and slave.


TLP said...

Nice. As usual. well, not nice, but you know.

Boy: like a puppy or a kitten. Cute, but they grow up to be men.

fauxking: not touchin' that.

Ariel the Thief said...

Wow, it is long.

Jamie Dawn said...

Boy: young males who usually like to pull the pigtails of young females.

I finally got caught up on the three weekend episodes that I'd missed. The story is great, as usual. I'm wondering who that hulk of a stranger is... I shall have to wait to find out. I love the dialog between the Brauns in the first episode I'd missed. That's some great, witty writing!


Ariel the Thief said...

Boy, male seed. Most often they grow up to be all kind of different things, though, but it is not yet decided who to blame for it.

Funny poem! She-beasts LOL!

k. riggs gardner said...

Hey Jamie Dawn. So whaddaya think? Has the hulking stranger with dirty hair transitioned into a primate or a slave who sleeps in a haystack?

Ariel the Thief said...

I didn't understand the previous title, either. :-P

Ariel the Thief said...

And they say these are women spending hours in front of the wardrobe trying to decide on the right dress...

the amoeba said...

Where humans teach their children they are masters.

Reminds me of signs I saw in buses in Melbourne, Australia ca. 1985. "Children will not be seated if adults are standing." I miss Melbourne ...

Jim said...

Little boy I know
doesn't care one bit
bananoise or not
he's got no banan-
oise today so there!

Anonymous said...

oh how i hope
the primate within me
is never caged
hope to keep
jumping tree to tree
to look about from
the high canopy
evolving through
experiencing life
sad it is
to witness the many caged
among us
involuntary servitude
not for lack of working
but lack of a living wage
or slave to
blinders often stronger
then bars
yes the boy in me
still lives

Quilly said...

BOY minor male child, not be be confused with bouy and tossed overboard while fishing. Drat.

cooper said...

Sweet poem, sort of.

Nice definition a old fashioned way of saying Boyz to Men.

Anonymous said...
Bill was a great poo thrower
but only to the rude
and disrespectful

Doug The Una said...

TLP, puppies don't grow up to be men.

Ariel, the banana?

Thanks, JD. I'm looking forward to finding out as well.

Ariel, it takes a village to raise a child, to ruin it takes a mom.

Karen, I like the new avatar. What flower is that?

Airel, I always struggle with languages. That's why I speak English.

Why seat them at all, Amoeba?

Jim, I lift my eyes unto the hills- from where will my potassium come?

Bear, if subpoened I will testify that the boy in you still lives. I just hope he gets enough sleep.

Why, I don't know, A-bell. Maybe we'll find out together Wednesday.

Sauerkraut, I heard they do too.

Quilly, I seem to never get that straight.

Sure, Coop.

Bear, Bill sounds like a fella I'd like to meet. How far is Eureka from the East Bay?

Ariel the Thief said...

LOL Actonbell!!!

k. riggs gardner said...

Thank you, Doug. It's a bromeliad.

Anonymous said...

278 miles---RIP for Bill

W. Wordsworth said...

For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone by,)
To me was all in all.—I cannot paint
What then I was.