Why Are Men Aggressive
© Surazeus
2017 10 25
Alison stands on the hill in moonlight
overlooking the city that shines bright
with perfect lives of people inside homes
and offices, where forest elves and gnomes
watch television and talk on cell phones,
and waves her hands over pile of cat bones
while chanting spells in arcane languages
to calculate the cost of averages,
but nothing happens except gentle breeze
swirls around rotting tree where honey bees
brew visions of gods that glow in our dreams,
so she whispers to shadows on gold streams.
"Why are men aggressive with sexual hope,
forcing all molested women to cope?
We follow light of visions in our minds
to calculate how spinning Earth rewinds
our social interactions through the door
that mirrors when we step on new world shore
to wrestle tangled vines with measurement
and organize our thriving settlement
that grows from colonies of fertile farms
into vast empire with nuclear arms
I wield like sword she named Exalibur
but leave my kingdom to play traveller
to other worlds where people wearing masks
brew love potions preserved in crystal flasks.
I hide no secrets in this riddling verse
you cannot find in any private purse
that women carry when they shop for clothes,
then stop to ask me what the wizard knows
who transforms broken wings of fallen angels
preserved in books set neat on market tables
in rows like coffins in old cemeteries
where blinded children gather ripe blueberries
so you will have to open my dark heart
then load all your possessions on the cart
that creaks while refugees on rain-wet road
flee persecution, weighed by heavy load
of monetary debt that king incurred
who listened to the plotting of the bird
that stole my magic ring when I played dead
so they would take this crown back off my head.
We play our roles in power games of control
on public stage with ostentatious goal
of ruling every nation on this globe
while dressed in jeweled crown and ermine robe,
but though I wield scepter of wisdom well
in elegant battle to tolling bell,
I stop in watchtower to contemplate truth,
while I fancy myself the clever sleuth,
and realize simple truth that makes me laugh
while duplicating souls with hectograph
how we all fall into abyss of death
and consciousness vanishes without breath.
To understand why men cannot control
aggressive lust, with biological goal
to impregnate every warm fertile womb,
and decide who is worshipped in grand tomb,
observe how men in every age of change
kill kind respectful men whom they find strange
and sire new generation from their seed
who act on impulse of their thrusting need
and force young virgins against their free will
to bear reincarnations with honest skill
who then compete through political games
over who will charter our social names.
Ten thousand years the toughest men would fight
and kill weaker rivals with hateful spite
then chase young women by the sparkling pools
so they bore their children, while witty fools
played games of hide and seek among the trees,
and honest lords kept rings of shining keys
to open solid doors where pregnant brides
gave birth to children with the ocean tides.
So with each generation of strong males
who through aggression further tip the scales
and fight in fiercer wars that blast the world,
since all our souls are from molecules purled,
our men become much more intent with lust
and seek their own gain over what is just.
With every generation stronger men,
who wield both the sword and the lawful pen,
sire more children from their reluctant wives
so every bolder generation strives
through strength and wit to rule the fertile lands
and commission projects from crafting hands,
and thus through evolution of their seed,
that favors survival of those with greed,
our men are driven blind by lust to breed
and build empires based on national creed.
My body is puppet of my free will
but I must retreat to this private hill
when men try to manipulate my heart
and treat me like I am some mindless tart.
Though I know why they act without control,
programmed by success of masculine role
to procreate new souls before they die,
I will look every man straight in the eye
and insist they transcend animal nature
to act with respect toward every live creature
with civil performance of human role,
and thus confirm their soul with self-control.
Men are responsible through honest goal
to control their actions with legal thole
and sail their ships along bright river flow
from honest intention to learn and grow."
Alison lies back and watches glowing stars
while listening to the hum of passing cars.
© Surazeus
2017 10 25
Alison stands on the hill in moonlight
overlooking the city that shines bright
with perfect lives of people inside homes
and offices, where forest elves and gnomes
watch television and talk on cell phones,
and waves her hands over pile of cat bones
while chanting spells in arcane languages
to calculate the cost of averages,
but nothing happens except gentle breeze
swirls around rotting tree where honey bees
brew visions of gods that glow in our dreams,
so she whispers to shadows on gold streams.
"Why are men aggressive with sexual hope,
forcing all molested women to cope?
We follow light of visions in our minds
to calculate how spinning Earth rewinds
our social interactions through the door
that mirrors when we step on new world shore
to wrestle tangled vines with measurement
and organize our thriving settlement
that grows from colonies of fertile farms
into vast empire with nuclear arms
I wield like sword she named Exalibur
but leave my kingdom to play traveller
to other worlds where people wearing masks
brew love potions preserved in crystal flasks.
I hide no secrets in this riddling verse
you cannot find in any private purse
that women carry when they shop for clothes,
then stop to ask me what the wizard knows
who transforms broken wings of fallen angels
preserved in books set neat on market tables
in rows like coffins in old cemeteries
where blinded children gather ripe blueberries
so you will have to open my dark heart
then load all your possessions on the cart
that creaks while refugees on rain-wet road
flee persecution, weighed by heavy load
of monetary debt that king incurred
who listened to the plotting of the bird
that stole my magic ring when I played dead
so they would take this crown back off my head.
We play our roles in power games of control
on public stage with ostentatious goal
of ruling every nation on this globe
while dressed in jeweled crown and ermine robe,
but though I wield scepter of wisdom well
in elegant battle to tolling bell,
I stop in watchtower to contemplate truth,
while I fancy myself the clever sleuth,
and realize simple truth that makes me laugh
while duplicating souls with hectograph
how we all fall into abyss of death
and consciousness vanishes without breath.
To understand why men cannot control
aggressive lust, with biological goal
to impregnate every warm fertile womb,
and decide who is worshipped in grand tomb,
observe how men in every age of change
kill kind respectful men whom they find strange
and sire new generation from their seed
who act on impulse of their thrusting need
and force young virgins against their free will
to bear reincarnations with honest skill
who then compete through political games
over who will charter our social names.
Ten thousand years the toughest men would fight
and kill weaker rivals with hateful spite
then chase young women by the sparkling pools
so they bore their children, while witty fools
played games of hide and seek among the trees,
and honest lords kept rings of shining keys
to open solid doors where pregnant brides
gave birth to children with the ocean tides.
So with each generation of strong males
who through aggression further tip the scales
and fight in fiercer wars that blast the world,
since all our souls are from molecules purled,
our men become much more intent with lust
and seek their own gain over what is just.
With every generation stronger men,
who wield both the sword and the lawful pen,
sire more children from their reluctant wives
so every bolder generation strives
through strength and wit to rule the fertile lands
and commission projects from crafting hands,
and thus through evolution of their seed,
that favors survival of those with greed,
our men are driven blind by lust to breed
and build empires based on national creed.
My body is puppet of my free will
but I must retreat to this private hill
when men try to manipulate my heart
and treat me like I am some mindless tart.
Though I know why they act without control,
programmed by success of masculine role
to procreate new souls before they die,
I will look every man straight in the eye
and insist they transcend animal nature
to act with respect toward every live creature
with civil performance of human role,
and thus confirm their soul with self-control.
Men are responsible through honest goal
to control their actions with legal thole
and sail their ships along bright river flow
from honest intention to learn and grow."
Alison lies back and watches glowing stars
while listening to the hum of passing cars.
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