The Drums

The Drums [ An Ode to Poe's "the Bells"

1


Hear the beating of the drums -


   Urban drums!


What disrespect and danger that their dreadful droning thrums!


   They go thumpy thumpy thumpy


In the day and in the night!


   With people waking from their slumber


All the heavens start to wonder


   Why is peace and quiet torn asunder;


Going BOOM BOOM BOOM


   Foretelling societal doom


Oh the beatimbambulation that so arrogantly thrums


  From the drums, drums, drums, drums, drums.


From the beatimbambulation of the drums.


2


 You can always hear the drums


   Droning drums


What monstrous cacophony arises from their sums!


   All day long, throughout the night


Hear them pounding out their spite


   From the rolling golden amps,


Forevermore.


   What a caustic chorus floats


To ears of those, who hear the notes


   In the night.


Oh, from out the gating guns


   What an air of disrespect perpetually thrums!


   How it thrums!


   How it BRUMS!


In the present how it comes


   Of the blindness that it's from.


Oh the beating and the booming


   Of the drums drums drums


Of the drums drums drums drums drums.


Oh the racing an the basing of the drums.



3




Hear the midnight drums


   Brazen drums!


From your slumber wakened now, just when you thought it done.


   There is no more peace in night


As Poe says "they scream out their [fright]"


   "Too much horrified to speak"


"They can only shriek, shriek, shriek,"


   "Out of tune."

Heart of stone

My heart is stone,
Igneous rock.
Wrapped in chains
With sturdy lock.
Garbed in whole
By frigid frock.

I am monk,
Of pain and rage.
Railing madness
On this stage.
Gladly locked
Within my cage.

Care no more
If I exist.
Glorious
And blinding bliss.
I am nothing
More than this.

My life, it,
Is not my own.
I am but
A haunting tone.
Forever more
To be alone.

No one looks,
And no one cares.
I am stripped
So fully bare.
Of me you,
Should now beware.

For i have
Not one thing left.
God has kicked me
From the cleft.
Of joy i,
Am now bereft.

Joy and love and hope
Are lies.
All that I
Have left
Is ice.
Numbness though,
Is mighty nice.