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Thread: Fifth Poem Of The Zookopolis

  1. #1
    Senior Member Zook_e_Pi's Avatar
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    Fifth Poem Of The Zookopolis

    On A Chance Quiver And Cupid Darts

    I'm disappointed in this fubar world,
    decades disjointed by a true-love girl,
    who's someone else's woman now
    (a middle-aged moonlit jumping cow);
    but when she was available
    in the lush greens of a time ago
    she was to dream and die for,
    the proof lies in my corpse.

    Being dumber than a lounge table
    - without trying very hard
    (as oft the case with youth regards) -
    I once held embedded trust
    in the conspiracy of the Cosmic Dust
    and the aloof undying crossing stars;
    had hoped to receive a perfect partner
    for my dowered dancing desiring heart.
    From the passages of Venus to a rendez-vous with Mars,
    mayhaps I was expecting much,
    but so what if I had preferred the purest touch
    and deferred the courting arts
    to a chance quiver and Cupid darts?

    My course soon turned to larger seas
    in a boat buffeted by the brine and breeze;
    spent years fishing in the rolls and heaves,
    my ego freed to send decrees
    on matters indexed from A to Z;
    I bloated fast with confidence,
    my mind consumed by cheap rents
    of wisdom, knowledge and intelligence.
    Predictably, I climbed the throne
    of the kingdom of the all alone:
    the broken jokers and the drunken bards
    singing love songs in the abandoned yards.

    I was too young - too fresh - to understand
    that a fledgling woman's fetching essence,
    responds better to the gentle handsome
    of a man that hides
    his only strengths and slides the many weaknesses;
    than to a boy that juts the chest of Hercules
    and radiates Adonis eliteness.

    I was way too certain on much too less,
    never really grasped that loving out
    is merely the first instruction
    in the grand design of great possession;
    failed to comprehend that the pumping heart
    in a standing woman
    - even one unmarked by scorn -
    is a red warbler in a rose garden:
    hard to spot, much more to adorn,
    a trip into the *****ly thorns.

    Uncle Zook

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