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Writer's pictureTanya Master

Urban gorillas





like modern day

urban gorillas

without military-issue weapons

but instead

stuck in our heads

and throwing gasoline bombs

made of glass-bottled-up wishes

and cloth rags

a volatile cocktail

a recipe for disaster

it’s a jungle in there

whether you seek

order out of chaos

or chaos out of order

both are but a means to an end

the grass always seems greener

in the pastures of our friends

we‘re all just animals in heat

cat-calling defeat

reincarnating onto the same sheet

of the same story

a story that’s been on repeat

on repeat

on repeat

a broken record of melancholy

glorified martyrdom and self-victimisation

the ugliest beasts

in search of mind-numbing meaning

we keep seeking unwarranted reasons

to watch the flames

of gasoline bombs

penetrate our blue skies

we have a thick black smoke of untruths veiling our mind's eye

we are uncouth urban gorillas

in mental flux

our minds out of breath

we have military-issue guards up

trauma-proof suits of steel

that can break bullets

but can’t beat the heat

of blood-rushing

raw vulnerability

we’re scared to be naive

but innocence is bliss

in a world where bliss is overrun

by greed

like modern day urban gorillas

too scared to reveal

the chaos of our logic

and the order of our feels

for we know not better

than to place faith

up against warfare

to detain ourselves

behind colourless bars

of fear-based realities

despite the divine in us,

the inherent creator gods

that we are

a treasured awareness

we laugh off in a mockery

a treasured awareness

laying as a dormant truth

at the bottom of the well

we’re too scared to hit rock bottom into

like modern day

urban gorillas

without military-issue weapons

but instead

stuck in our heads

and throwing gasoline bombs

made of glass-bottled-up wishes

fighting a villain-disguised

fairytale ending.


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