Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Into the offing,
The Implosion;

No, not
The Revolution,
John, oh!,
(Eight or Nine)
Nay, but
The Gospel...
Nonetheless, &
More
than the Grandest...
The Morld has ever known!...

Drought? Doubt.
Flood? Pshaw!
Nay, sumthin' tha' gnaw,
Like Verminworms
at Vergyn Wood...
More
than the Grandest...

Jammin' famine &
Pests-to-the-Test?
A POX unto your housebox
The Hague can't UnPlague?...

We'll come to
The Deadendd,
Some in affiance,
Hope of desperation-later,
Desperation-sooner, some
Desperation-ALL
luckily MondoCane?
Out of Hope's Control
from
abject Madness,
Tickling Death.

Like the slam
of the unfamiliar
car door,
a phone sounds'
in the night,
THUD!
the Familiar abode
rendered rentless,
Caldicott strops,
Disney-Drops,
LoonituneEskatune
Tickling-Death.

Yea, John
You say ya'
Want
The Devolution?
Ya' know,
Ya'll want
The Morld of Change,
Cuz, all We'll knead
Is Love...
From the Dust On Ash -
The Offing Implosion -
As
The Sun's a r r o g a n t
& Entropic
Setting & Pulverise!

H.e.m.
6.4.MMviii.
(Opus d' Rebus - 2012)
"Th, Th, Thats All, Folks!"

is this intended to be total nonsense,
or am I just stupid?
is this supposed to tell me anything about life
or why I would want to waste the time to read it?

Indeed, a lament and or warning of interesting proportions.
This time even ol Hester's eyes can pick up some sense of it here on Harola's poetry victrola.....the endearing static, and nary a whimper in the creative woods of this piece sir.......
I dug it out and dig it.

H

mmm... it sounded more like Il Sorpasso!!!!

I enjoyed it!!!!!!!

Arcadia/hester/Rod - TY for your responses; as echoed from another Post (certainly not to diminish the thought of an incipience): "What you have posed for my replies flies into the face of antithesis; notwithstanding I hold your philosophical queries/postulates as to the natures of the Work's tenets in high regard, however, the very notion of "Man's" imperfection (be It Self or G*d ordained) is secondary - even tertiary - to, I believe, the fait-a-compli, WE are doomed! Therefore, a posteriori, what remains is for any rational, mono no aware Being, to bend, prosituate his head, kiss his donkey, & his a** Goodbye!?"

"Il Sorpasso?" Well, certainly the Italians have an edge upon the capture of Lives' foibles & frailties, however this Poem (as absurdist as It might portray?) speaks no Commedia All'Italiana. It ain't no "Easy Life!" H'H./H.e.m.

sighh....

i feel so lost

not only did i not understand the poem but i didn't understand your reply to those who replied to you

this internet thing is really baffling

what the heck is it about?

words words words

but do they have to mean something?

maybe they do but it's beyond me what they mean sometimes

hey, haro... don't worry about me.... i don't understand my own writing either much of the time, either

lol

have fun!