Break(Brake) Beats...

many flows, many lows, many hos.

Break beats.

Bum…CHA CHA bum…CHA

Dance a tepid tango on the fire escapes of Traumaville

Set fire to icicles and drip dry the abominable abortions of snow white sleep

Seven dwarven drawings driven to defeat by the eraser of the unimaginative

 

Bum…CHA CHA bum..CHA

 

Beats like windmilling worms on cardboard stages

Beats like two radioactive steel wheels slicing metaphors like smiling similes

Similarly symmetrical,

Bending records watching the beat movement is cyclical

Getting lost in 4, 8, and 16’s

 

Watch the s**t go round and round STOP

Champion lyrics go pound for pound STOP

Heat seeking words go air to ground STOP

And all that’s left is sound to sound

Going

 

Bum…CHA CHA bum..CHA

 

Beats for days like child abuse victims (OHHH no you didn’t!)

F**k it, yes I did

Tests is positive like HIV symptoms ( OHHH no he didn’t!)

Yes I did, so f**k it

We hard against the current like Japanese swimmers (OHHHH Too soon baby, too soon)

But what is the power of word if it’s weak against the ear drums and hums sickly like stuttered whispers

In a world where street prophets are painfully unappreciated

Dipped in the furnaces of the soul

Unroll onomatopoetics and listen to the written word

Who needs music?

When the mind is in rewind

Keep fingers snapping and jazz keep the time like…

 

Bum…CHA CHA bum..CHA

Reviews

[Crowley]

Preaching with fingers all fucked up and twisted, pointing at the sun in your tin foil helmet asking the masses to shhhhhhh....listen for a second, "do you hear that", its the sound of God vomiting from a drinking binge he was on for the last million years and you, are one of the chunks, sprung from a twice tasted vienna sausage to challenge all context and wrap it in cellophane, there are no surprises....only what is. You tell what is as good as anyone...rhythmic lessons to comb your hair by. Loved it.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

I am a with boy with no rhythm but I know how to go with the flow of life, it may not always be steady but we can still sing our song. A fun poem that gives a lot to think about.

[Katie Louise Hughes]

this could be music :) good job... not much else to say- it's so different, like a breath of fresh air.

[Siddhartha]

This is music. Drums along frenetically and bleeds acid.

[Nothing Personal]

Drum beats for the ugly, evil world. As one moves along watching all the wrong and the misgivings, and there's no payback. A journey. Especially the rhythm in it, infallible. A Monroe poem is as good as Monroe prose. After all, it's all about what goes on in his "twisted, warped " mind. I love it (Needless to say) and now drumming away in distant reality..

[Robin]

as man who listens to his own drummer I found my own beat in this piece , I hear your call , speak -now , SHOUT it - Loud ! say it , dont down play it ...

America quit sweeping the ugly under the rug ...

and yeah snappin' ... snappin' fingers

[?]

But what is the power of word if it’s weak against the ear drums and hums sickly like stuttered whispers
Bum…CHA CHA bum..CHA

A powerful word is meant to be heard and not whispered.
Oh you are such a character, :)
Loved it
Now Im gonna be singing Bum…CHA CHA bum..CHA all day long.

[OT]

brilliant!!!! and joining Kerry in the encore - the rhythm of this piece breaks a few beats in and of itself!! you always pack so much into your pieces - the whole spectrum of s**t emotions - then add a little lol and risque here and there - to rub salt into the wound - ha!! nice!!

[Kerry O'Connor]

[Insert a hearty round of applause]

A poem... as I live and breathe... from the mocking pen of EH Monroe, and all's still wrong with the world. Ha!
What a phonic treat for the ear of the eye. He sails close to the wind but at least he has sea legs and a strong stomach in the face of the storm.

[Encore, Maestro!]