These are the dark days, the illegitimate moments,
That were never meant to have a name.
All of us are beings that exist as accidents.
Without purpose, without hope and without shame.
Did our souls come from wild monkeys in a contest,
Our conscience, was it born from the ape,
Did our poetry rise from a gorilla thumping his chest.
And how did music get its glorious shape?
Perhaps there are some among us who hear the violins,
Played by angelic mermaids by the sea.
And dance all day with smiles and grins,
Unmindful of the past and content just to be.
- Author: David Wakeling ( Offline)
- Published: November 7th, 2024 02:19
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 40
- Users favorite of this poem: Qurrathul Ain
Comments8
I did see someone doing a chimp impression, but it didn't change my mind - I don't believe we evolved from apes.
You can believe what ever you want.Thanks for reading
Creationism vs evolution the old science of faith issue. Nicely stated in great verse and clever wording. Nicely done.
Thank you so much.
Evolutionary poetry and survival of the wittiest, perhapsā¦ and the thoughts begin to randomiseā¦ my fault, not yours!
Thanks for reading
Excellent
Thank you
You're welcome Daxid
Does the monkey come down from the tree ?
Good question.They certainly get along with each other.Thanks for commenting
ha! ha!
This is just wonderful. There are some among us that can hear the violins, I can fortunately can. Thanks for this.
Thank you for commenting
Good words David and that last verse could be me.
Andy
I know you here the music and are happy just to be.Thanks for commenting
i wonder sometimes too - where we have come from, and where we are headed
great write
Yes it is an interesting topic.Thanks for reading
pleasure was mine. have a great day
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