THE ENSEMBLE: Blues and the Orchestra (a poem by Prof. Mike Breeze)

THE ENSEMBLE: Blues and the Orchestra 

The  chubby orchestra conductor chuckles musically
As sections appertaining plays the A note,
Sonata 14 will soon pludder I suppose.
Oh bless me! By the right is the blues band equally,
All messengers of bend note,
Muddy Waters will soon grace their pose.
A portion of my heart however capitulated
There'll be an ensemble of the blues and orchestra.


The sky smiles at the ta-te-ta orchestration,
She sweats affectionately with the blues' pa-ra-pu-rum effects,
What a lovely flow in contrapuntal!
The bubbles dance rhymically
To each twelve bar,
The swimming packets swing typically
To the harmony of the orchestra.

When to the weird music we peep,
Heavily does she beat on us;
Lashing out lashes on even our reputables,
Sparing none of our Kings in deep.
Well!  Tiny me was sent to inquire of her
Of what reason she vomits her pour
All mercilessly at will slapping us.

My poetic septet asked, 'why do you beat?'
I beat to calm the earth she blurt:
Who never knew the earth's fury is hot and hurt?
And the formed earth... Adamant preys of beats
Who see orchestra set up and halt;
Found them no nigh shelter?
Perhaps they need my decisive music.

Coming from the conductor
'tis flowing ridges saw I afar
Teleporting the unsent tweets like a motor;
Packages of my neighbouring Ma's
Which begets loop clap-beats,
Makes us red water suppliers and
Prisoners of the white-to-red bloody sisters!

The music is getting softer now,
All seems to retard to silence,
What's that all about? I mustered,
Later I got to know
She raises her voice to calm us
And from far to cold blow us
From the shackles of the anopheles sisters.

Womb of whom wonderous white stick drops
Must compensation be due,
Body of whom sweats drops to crops
Should our affection glue;
What much honour must we daily
Give to the creator of the fluidy body,
Than worship in truth and spirit?