Three Kings and a Queen

Tom-Tom thought he was clever –
King of the Jungle for ever.
Alas, that he never was,
but, just because,
he could fly through the air,
everywhere
there were lianas,
in search of bananas
and other food
it gave him the mood –
of arrogance.
The little chimpance.

Agile he was
as he swung across
the canopy
from tree to tree.
Way up high,
where butterflies fly,
in his element –
and vehement
in his belief
that he was the Chief.

After all, who was quicker,
than the slicker
Monkey King?
Not anything.
Mamba, fastest snake alive,
was only able to thrive,
by catching birds and lizards
– impaling their gizzards
with venomous fangs
and without any pangs
of contrition
because its her nutrition.
Then there‘s the monkey eagle
– a regal
bird of prey.
But no bird‘s seen the light of day
that can catch Tom-Tom
because, in his kingdom
he‘s the number one
– always on the run
and just one, step ahead
keeping his head.

He thought no other creature
could ever feature
in this jungle,
but that was his bungle.
Because Tom-Tom‘s patch
was only above the thatch
of the huts below,
where the real jungle was on the go.

One day whilst swinging with ease
through the rooves of the trees
he caught a branch that broke with a snap –
nothing unusual for this athletic chap.
He recovered and swung just a little out of control
– but now in the open, where an eagle did patrol.
But he saw it in time to escape
as he tumbled through foliage that drape
the lower boughs and stems
where gems
like birds eggs
and the dregs
of reptilien plunder
are under
the mercy of mamba‘s realm
where the asp will overwhelm
its prey
day after day.
This is where Tom-Tom landed,
suddenly stranded,
in a reptile‘s lair,
yet he still had the flair
to spring from mamba‘s reach
before she could teach
him
the grim
truth of the matter.
He landed with a spatter
on the dusty earth below,
rolling over, to and fro, to and fro.
He was quick to his feet
but was no longer a sweet
little chimp
– the cantankerous imp.
He raised his fist and bared his canines,
ranted and raged, making signs
and screaming up into the foliage.
“I‘m gonna make carnage,
outta you pair,
snake in your lair,
eagle in the air.
I don‘t care
for the way you behave
and I crave
vengance,
or your repentance.
This is my domain.“

Then he noticed the mane
of the real King,
looking
at him.
And, under that brim,
was the stern demeanour
of a cat much meaner
than any beast in any land.
No longer had Tom-Tom the upper hand.
For,
on the floor,
he was unable to jump nor swing away.
It had finally come – his last day
on earth.
Because the birth
of lion cubs some months ago
meant that they would have to grow
at Tom-Toms expense,
for the immense
power in the lions paw
hit the chimp full on his jaw
Then his neck was ripped apart.
It was Simba‘s art
to kill,
and to spill
the last drop, the last breath.
Tom-Tom had a quick death.

Which is more than Simba was allowed
because this proud
beast
was not even killed for a feast.
Shortly after he carried poor Tom-Tom back
to his pride, so that they did not lack,
for food and care
Simba found himself, totally unaware,
in the sights of a gun –
a man just having some fun.
And now the Lion was no longer King
for, as soon as that bullet did ring,
like a shot
out of that hot
barrel of destruction
felt Simba an eruption
in his inner shoulder
as if a boulder
had crushed his bones.
The whole savannah heard his groans
of agony
as he tried to flee.
Limping he rushed away from the shot
but did not
have his majestic power any more
Several times he fell to the floor.
But he recovered to flee again
although the Landrover did forever gain
more ground
and, once again, he heard the sound
of the gun
– his death had begun.
But not before he turned on the man
to make one final stand.
Roaring he ran and sprung in the air
although the hunter did not seem to care –
the next bullet pierced Simba‘s heart
and no longer would he play the part
of King
for his death did bring
the crown
down
to man.
Now only his plan
would count on this planet
and he was greedier than the gannet.
He would plunder,
bring whole forests asunder.
Continents, Seas, even the atmosphere
all had to fear
since man had the crown
he really went to town.
But even though the old man is aware
that Mother Nature is no longer willing to share
her place with us
he still drives the bus
of destruction and pollution,
defying evolution.
So Mother won‘t have any more
she‘ll beat him, that‘s for sure.
She comes back with sickness and fever:
ebola, aids – anything to lever
her elementary strengths
over the lengths
that man goes, to to be king.
And She will win.
She warms up the climate
when the overgrown primate
fills the air with gasses
and kills masses
of creatures and trees,
not hearing Her pleas.
Like Tom-Tom and Simba he must also learn
that you have to earn
more respect
and you must never neglect
your Mother
because there is no other
that gives you life.
It‘s not the King that reigns, but his Wife.

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