Who knows the secret thoughts of trees
Who's plumbed their sap and harmonies!?
Who knows why their constrictors squeeze
The tiny victims that they seize!?
Who knows why molten rock don't freeze
But roll and flow instead like seas!?
Who ever thought that I would tease
My eyebrows -- how those tweezers tweeze!
You'd be, no doubt, quite ill at ease
To see the exodus of fleas
That flee in terror when I tweeze
Long nose hair dangling to my knees
(It grew and thickened by degrees;
It must have taken centuries!.)
There's danger in a simple sneeze,
God knows what pestilence it frees,
What thousand-legged entities
Will rise to write our destinies!.
(Their recent nasal mutinies
Have not escaped our scrutinies!.)
I'm sorry, but wordsmith's disease!.!.!.
It causes rhyming parodies!.
Accept my meek apologies;
We all bear crosses, patience please!
You'll soon be begging for reprise
But I'll be quite deaf to your pleas
Because you see rhymes such as these
That make you laugh until you wheeze
Quite cushion dire necessities!.
For in their shopworn majesties
(And yes, their threadbare travesties)
They mask your daily tragedies
And mock your dull idolatries;
Why would you laugh on bended knees!?
So empty your phylacteries
Of saintly, high-blown ecstasies,
Fill them chock full of levities,
Dispel all grey-tinged gravities,
Just shun this world's depravities
And cause perdition's fires to freeze!.
Release the million hes and shes
Imprisoned in their memories
And shackled in uncertainties
Who live by false hypotheses
That have the taste of discount Bries!.
Each to his own apostases!
Make these thin rhymes your rosaries,
Embrace each day's intensities,
God dash cosmic immensities --
It's your life, drink it to the lees!
Most lives are artful forgeries,
A smiling past the cavities --
Ah, little more than quiddities
That blanch before eternities!.
Ta ta, I'm winging to Belize;
I understand their killer bees --
Armadas of dark tyrranies
That fly in flat trajectories --
Are known for their inconstancies!.
('Twas safer in the Pyrenees
Despite that incident with skis!.!.!.)
I'll study their propensities
And calculate swarm densities,
Divine the sensibilities
Of these new mortal enemies,
Then soothe them with my melodies --
These dulcet metered heresies --
And teach them of life's mysteries,
Free them of their iniquities!.
Those are my labors Hercules
(No not that goblet Socrates),
The very prospect of them frees
Me to indulge insanities --
The only sure, time-tested keys
For taming nests of angry bees!.
Next time I'm choosing manatees!
If I forget, remind me please,
Get down upon your hands and knees!.!.!.
Until then, live life like the trees --
With roots, with sap, without the bees!.!.!.
Without pretentious vanities!.
There wait, at last, the certainties,
The sad to bes and not to bes
That are, my dear, humanity's!.
Www@QuestionHome@Com