Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Goin' over t' the
white's C&C, It's a haute
hoot tuniopporty
jareqk, thar's gold in them thar plates,
service to two oh-oh eight...

the secret of the
saucis under hurry-currycover blown, but no
worry, It's all singh for your
johnny cash, bravo!-bravo!

we applaud ourselves
@ the gilt's set-ups, spoons left
right knife, & forks!...(who's
cookin' the covert kitchin'
wants t' tarnish the stain, crack

the crystal, crinkle
the crepe?) neato-magneto
don't detect, It ain't
smoother-than-that like a blanc
merlinot rose` blonder than

the YESMEN!, a self-
serving, hold-up for dessert,
the entrees are here
(unselectabled?) for the
Blue Room Special, sala-hi,

Mr. P., a soft
grasp for bids (Mo, Joe, &, er
Larry don't like It!),
these winers-on-the-vine, Miss
Michaele, row your oasis

back hume!...but who's a-
cookin' the covert kitchin'...
hellzapoppin`!, heads'll
roll take the fall like the Church!
they came, saw unreal'ty

housewive(s) of D.C.
Gone over white's C&C,
played the host for a
new reality, Honey,
the Churlers are here. Who cares!?

H.e.m./H'H.
11.29.MMix.
(Edo Edi Essum)

Liked this
Subliminal is the word that comes to mind.

truck - I LOVE ELEPHANTS! What better word to portray the mind than "subliminal," & what better organ for subliminal than the Mind! Apart from the overt applications, of course the ref's. to the clandestine, & all are sublimating for a host of agendas, none savory - TY, H.e.m./H'H.

Sorry H'H I changed avatars. But I left the link on the signature line.
I lied to the boss when I got the job
told him I knew how to drive an eighteen wheeler
and he lied to me
he told me that those elephants were just big old gray cows that would never hurt me.

Pardon the ramble

I read the stuff that the pundits of poetry write about what it is and what poetry is not.

A mystery to me
I just like to ruminate on your stuff

sincerely
jt

st - I'd know you (your style) most anywhere; there is power in rumination, I encounter the same ilk of pundits, but in the denouement what matters is the message, Its fluidity & impact, & if this is what my Work imparts to you, I have been true to my Art - TY, H.e.m./H'H.

st - I'd know you (your style) most anywhere;

Yeah right, I suppose you could call it a style. Sometimes I do it deliberately most times it is just sloppy writing.

"It's the most wonderful time, of the year...."
Amazing how your poem got me singing this song!
Love it!
H

h_p - I am pleased to hear of your canting, certainly; but dear hester, I know there has never been even the slightest hint of dearth of frankness between us...pray, are we referencing the same Poem? H'H./H.e.m.

Indeed we are!
Same poem.
But imagine intonations.
loathes in blue,
outnumbered to shrug,
Eflat, Bflat Dflat.
(What does that sound like?)
There is happiness
in all this rubbish Toto,
this I know, this I know.

H

h_p - The notes - Eb-Bb-Db - not unlike a doorbell chime, hardly cacophonic; surely, I am heartened by the "intonations" which resonate for you therein, however, how Toto finds happiness in the perilous peccadilloes of a Gov't not of-for-& by the people, whom will never break bread/invite the miserables ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IFOC72DRPWY) to dinner, mystifies...get back, Loretta - H'H./H.e.m.