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August 11, 2018

PROLOGUE, THE   HERBIVORES
Ape-like figures pawed and pled,    Munching  leaves in the forest glade,
Stay with us in the trees,   they said,  Hide in the shadows and the shade;
The world’s  a  malevolent domain, Don’t be the one to do and dare,
In that no-man’s land where monsters reign,   In the unforgiving sun’s
fierce   glare;
Your violence — excessive, Like Biblical Cain,
Your nature — aggressive, How you got the big brain;
But thoughts are pretense like charades,    And Reason saps the soul
of joy,
Truth is a mirage that fades,     A flashy façade  like a decoy;
Boredom’s  peaceful,  no need to create,   No need to build or sow or
reap,
No need to strive or love or hate, Just sit on branches and eat                           and sleep;
There is no first,   there is no last,      Here in Eden,   the garden sublime,
There is no future,   there is no past, There is no tyranny of Time;
We’re  subjects of the tribal decree, You’re part of the crowd, never                                     alone,
No ego or  “I”,  only “We”,    The forest primeval is your   comfort zone;
We don’t hunt or cook or eat red meat,       Red meat might start a
Revolution,
It could rile the juices and make us compete,   And subject us primates
to Evolution;
We’re equal here,   we’re all the same,       No better or best,  no praise      or blame;
No happy or sad,   no loss or gain,      No wish or want,   no stress or
strain;
We go where ever Nature prods,    We take no foolish risks or chances,
We follow laws of forest gods, And obey the boundaries of branches.
ODE   TO   ANDREA
“It isn’t who is going to let me,”    The Queen ridicules,
“It’s who is going to stop me,    You   forest fools!
Peace and safety are for slaves,        For submissive souls who cringe
and crawl,
The trees that hold you are leafy graves,   A sepulchre with ivied wall;
My feet are fit for rocky ground,   Whatever trials a new day yields,
Who knows the pathway where I’m bound?  Toward deserts stark or
flowered fields?”
Predators lurk along her way, Killing is their only thrill,
Cunning hunters who pounce on prey,   Who kill to live and live to kill;
Undaunted,   never to wilt or wail,        Facing foes of every kind,
She will conquer and prevail, Armed with the weapon of the mind;
Nourished by enemies who shout her name,   Conflict keeps her heart
aflame;
(War is the tonic for Earth’s sickly tribes,  War gives them purpose,
as Ardrey describes.)
The Queen of   Killers is of the Earth,   Tasting the bitter and the sweet,
Where her soul can find its worth,  A hunting place for her running feet;
To live with joy is her morning vow,   Proud of all that she’s  made of,
To live for herself in the here and now,  (Only the selfish can truly love)
No place forbidden or taboo,      She hurries with no backward glance,
Toward far horizons,   ever new,   ‘Cross   Freedom’s vast unknown
expanse;
She escapes the jungle spirituality,
Her  senses cling  to materiality;
With curious hands that touch and feel,
With  hunger for all that’s right and real,
She revels in the certainty of ears and eyes,
And thrills at Existence,   the eternal surprise;
She drinks in pleasures of sight and sound,    A glimmering  rainbow
after the squall,
A coyote howling its  haunting call,   She marvels how Earth’s  treasures
abound:
The wonder of water,  the value of gold,
The distance of stars with  their vanishing lights,
The sagas of heroes,    told and re-told,
The mystery of mountains with snow on the heights…
So we see her,  now,  beautiful and bold,   racing on and on,
With conflict never out of sight,   But songs and laughter on her tongue,
Her heart afire with every dawn,   Victories ever a delight,
She remains forever young.
Jim D.,   August 2018

PROLOGUE, THE   HERBIVORES

Ape-like figures pawed and pled,    Munching  leaves in the forest glade,

Stay with us in the trees,   they said,  Hide in the shadows and the shade;

The world’s  a  malevolent domain, Don’t be the one to do and dare,

In that no-man’s land where monsters reign,   In the unforgiving sun’s

fierce   glare;

Your violence — excessive, Like Biblical Cain,

Your nature — aggressive, How you got the big brain;

But thoughts are pretense like charades,    And Reason saps the soul of joy,

Truth is a mirage that fades,     A flashy façade  like a decoy;

Boredom’s  peaceful,  no need to create,   No need to build or sow or  reap,

No need to strive or love or hate, Just sit on branches and eat   and sleep;

There is no first,   there is no last,      Here in Eden,   the garden sublime,

There is no future,   there is no past, There is no tyranny of Time;

We’re  subjects of the tribal decree, You’re part of the crowd, never   alone,

No ego or  “I”,  only “We”,    The forest primeval is your   comfort zone;

We don’t hunt or cook or eat red meat,       Red meat might start a

Revolution,

It could rile the juices and make us compete,   And subject us primates

to Evolution;

We’re equal here,   we’re all the same,       No better or best,  no praise      or blame;

No happy or sad,   no loss or gain,      No wish or want,   no stress or

strain;

We go where ever Nature prods,    We take no foolish risks or chances,

We follow laws of forest gods, And obey the boundaries of branches.

ODE   TO   ANDREA

“It isn’t who is going to let me,”    The Queen ridicules,

“It’s who is going to stop me,    You   forest fools!

Peace and safety are for slaves,        For submissive souls who cringe

and crawl,

The trees that hold you are leafy graves,   A sepulchre with ivied wall;

My feet are fit for rocky ground,   Whatever trials a new day yields,

Who knows the pathway where I’m bound?  Toward deserts stark or

flowered fields?”

Predators lurk along her way, Killing is their only thrill,

Cunning hunters who pounce on prey,   Who kill to live and live to kill;

Undaunted,   never to wilt or wail,        Facing foes of every kind,

She will conquer and prevail, Armed with the weapon of the mind;

Nourished by enemies who shout her name,   Conflict keeps her heart

aflame;

(War is the tonic for Earth’s sickly tribes,  War gives them purpose,

as Ardrey describes.)

The Queen of   Killers is of the Earth,   Tasting the bitter and the sweet,

Where her soul can find its worth,  A hunting place for her running feet;

To live with joy is her morning vow,   Proud of all that she’s  made of,

To live for herself in the here and now,  (Only the selfish can truly love)

No place forbidden or taboo,      She hurries with no backward glance,

Toward far horizons,   ever new,   ‘Cross   Freedom’s vast unknown

expanse;

She escapes the jungle spirituality,

Her  senses cling  to materiality;

With curious hands that touch and feel,

With  hunger for all that’s right and real,

She revels in the certainty of ears and eyes,

And thrills at Existence,   the eternal surprise;

She drinks in pleasures of sight and sound,    A glimmering  rainbow

after the squall,

A coyote howling its  haunting call,   She marvels how Earth’s  treasures

abound:

The wonder of water,  the value of gold,

The distance of stars with  their vanishing lights,

The sagas of heroes,    told and re-told,

The mystery of mountains with snow on the heights…

So we see her,  now,  beautiful and bold,   racing on and on,

With conflict never out of sight,   But songs and laughter on her tongue,

Her heart afire with every dawn,   Victories ever a delight,

She remains forever young.

— Jim D., August 2018

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