Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Blotchy inkblot blood boils.
Larynx goes up a statesman’s yodel;
stately lately, speech of guns and butter flies.
Pick a world, any world; shred and re-glue verbs,
do-verbs, re-verbs, burbs of floating screens.

Bright bones bounce off space junk bibles.
We read revelation two on killer screws
loose from cracked sputnik halo eyes;
the backlit saviors on a mean streak;
bosons streak in stringy liquid black.

We do the ink blot splatter soul atoll.
Ezekiel ate a scroll, high in a valley of bones,
dem walking ashtray poems in bambam sun.
The sky turned to loud Gauguin orange wind,
and they''ll be sorry in narrow-minded skin.

They flew to empty summits that preach,
where we peaked on flying walls of screech.
Slim flew to Russia in a sheet metal tomb,
strapped to a rocket, woe unto the womb.
He do the parabolic arc past Pluto.

Ernest fought against the bambam cloud;
huffed his missile stogie; little mushroom puffs;
drank rum from a gas jug; won the axle toss.
So we slouch toward the Oracle
to get the smoldering, cut-up news.

imaginative hip language and wordplay....a good poem for open mic-nite........

Thanks. It's got a few riddims to it. And yes, I slipped in a couple of lines about cut-ups.

Originally inspired by the Wylde school of surrealery ... Miss ya, Doug. Where ya been? Stop by sometime, man.

There are times when I read a poem that it reminds me why I love poetry and why I write . This is wonderful edgy energy , .one hell of a fine poem in my mind , a jewel, our world to day in a diamond eye snappy clear reverberation , big smile here much appreciated .

Thanks man. It's actually blasted together from 5 poems I wrote a few years ago. As wacky as it is, it makes too much "sense" to be dadaist, though it does have those cut-up bits and stuff bouncing off stuff in space. That's almost dada ...