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| Anti-Monotony Popcorn and a gray pear and a lizard on a leash – they had returned him to the land where bronze light held everything under its close and ubiquitous lens. A bear, manacled by the monotony of popcorn and circuses could only dream there had once been a green season with green light in a free wilderness and something other than castles filled with dungeons. He didn’t like lizards or industry or dressing like a man. He didn’t like going backwards and forwards every day sliced between the three panels of the world. He didn’t ask to be here. He didn’t ask for everything to go on being the same day after day. His brain was burning with desires, with longing, with dreams…. even now there is a trail of smoke. If only he could take off these gloves, remove his collar, piss on the Union Jack – he would show them how blood un-cogs the wheel. But another day passes and the season refuses to budge and the pear continues to dangle by its slender stem, neither dead nor alive. Marc Harshman, (poet & children’s author), Wheeling, West Virginia Anti-Monotony: Beating the Doldrums 'Tis neither crises nor catastrophes I fear, But life's pervading dullness is my greatest foe, Whose paralizing tentacles can engineer A situation to arrest ideas' flow. In crises, I can bravely flip events right over, And then come out a victor in a dazzling jiff, But when it's funk and gunk above me hover, They dull my thoughts and make my body stiff. Disasters, deaths and wounds make me a hero And put my brain to work in yeasty ways, But heavy flatness keeps my vim at zero And casts upon my eyes its listless glaze. He who can overcome lethargic stretches And doggedly continue to plug along, Will be the one for whom Fortuna fetches Rewards of gold for being so strong. Forget about hunks on prime-time shows Who blow thugs away with their rods, A true paladin is the one who knows That he can beat the blahs against all odds. -David Kessel, Palm Springs, California Anti-Monotony I'm GRUFF. GRUFF. Tough. Russian Brown bear stuff and I dance for peanuts, my friend. “Round and about,”my keeper shouts. Oops there I go stupid me again. I'm right handed but never get it right as I try something different like eating noodles at night. Anything to break up the drudge, I'd gladly swap caviare for a piece of chock fudge. The Lord of the castle in Glasgow drives me insane, his squeaky voice keeps saying: “Do it again.” After 15 years of coco and toast I'm fed up enough to search for a ghost. And then my brain fills with schemes to escape while visiting Oxfam in my dreams. What a scrape it seems. There's shoes and suits to fit and lots more beside as I walk the Strand like a Duke of the gentry disguised. For a change I have some fun. This is life. It's just begun. Popcorns and honey for you, when you always eat fish, and sanity with change is my secret wish. On my hat you'll see good olde Union Jack and a collar to boot around my throat. And I don't feel bad about my crime; the change was great and I loved spending the time. Perhaps it sounds a heck of a mess but dramatic change is the best I guess. -Cleveland W. Gibson, (Author of Billabongo) Faringdon, Oxon, United Kingdom |
