Beat Poems - Poems about Beat

I beat you, but did you?

We push to stand at the world’s edge,
to see it first, to touch it first, to claim it as ours.

But what is gained by being first?
When being second has a gift. We can share the moment with those who came before and those who will come after.

So I ask: what would you prefer?
The beauty of

Every Beat of Your Heart

oh
love
i
hear
every
beat
of
your heart
then
let
your
heart
sings out loud
through
every
beat of your heart

BEAT MELODIES-

BEAT MELODIES

boom boom boom a beating of the drum
 include a variety of drums, boom boom boom
 rattles as the snake dance
Liken baby rattles play,
ring them bells,  idiophones.
these be beat melodies Notable 
 them de play Djembe, Dundun, Gangan,  and them de play Sakara, Bata, Udu Shekere, Agogo, and Gbedu These instruments are

beat

I feel like a failed organ transplant 
In this country, in this world
But it’s deeper than that
In my body, in my mind

A DAY ON THE BEACH CAN'T BE BEAT

A DAY ON THE BEACH CAN'T BE BEAT
written for "Choose One Image Poetry Contest," Mystic Rose, sponsor

Two ears of corn on the sand,
With no sunscreen, they thought it was grand.
     They basked in the rays,
     In a golden haze,
Till they popped like a snack, so unplanned!

The Beat of My Heart

Without a word I slip out of bed
and a thousand conversations
run through my mind
as I walk barefoot across worn carpeting.

Two nights ago, I barely made it home
while driving through a deluge
and water on the roads.
I defied the warnings
and survived
as bolts of lightning laced the sky.

I was the storm.
I was the silence.

Now as the sun pokes

Beat the Heat

     Beat the heat, beat the heat
        You’re on the hotseat
     Beat the heat, you’re on the hotseat

     Drink lots of water, drink lots of water
        You really had

That Is How Small The Mind Could Be To Beat

Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat,
Red eyes might grow tough to handle mettle...
That Is how small the mind could be to beat.

Finger might flip up hints to pure deceit,
Somewhat so close to Cain's stunt on Abel;
Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat.

Alcohol could have actualised such treat,
Upon rage within, ever

knows nothing more

A woman sitting in an old house herself,
counting paper clips.

Every day, was a creaking workday
that reminded her addiction was in freedom—
meanings of being young, being old,
being in love with the back then.

She’s not a fan of
not being a fan of new movies.
But who can blame her
for blaming herself?

A helicopter that flies
over the barren desert land

To Beat Or Not To Beat

My poetry may not be high-falutin,
but sometimes it is rootin tootin;
sometimes it it sweet and sad,
sometimes it is awful bad.

Just as beauty is in the eye...
a poem does not have to justify 
itself to you or me, 
it just simply has to be.

Dedicated to those of us who don't understand a beat of meter.

Beat the Drum Softly

Beat the drum softly, and beat it with heart,
Lay down a rhythm that rises from soul;
Small though indeed is the size of our part,
That which it is, we can still play in full.
Loud are the clashes that crash from the street,
Ominous thunder that thrashes from storm;
Myriad pacing of multitude feet,
Let still not chaos be your

HEARTS CAN BEAT AGAIN

[Verse 1]
Can you still remember,
How we used to burn?
Every line we scribbled,
Made the whole world turn.
Crowds would fade around us,
But your eyes held the room,
We danced between the silence,
And lit up every tune.

[Pre-Chorus]
You whispered freedom,
Right into my skin,
Every word you breathed,
Pulled me back in.

[Chorus]
These hearts can beat again,
If we just find the flame,
Girl, breathe me

True lovers

True lovers everywhere, 
Romance charms in the air,
Smiles from them anywhere,
Hearts beat true, debonair,
Our love, such froth and bubble, 
Can ease off any trouble,
Lovers' hearts in diverse shades,
Ever flower in romance glades.

things that thrill

the
three things 
that t h r i l l
                                   b e a t        

Tuesdays' nights

was the whiskey and the jazz playing
On too many black nights with too
Many lonely women and not a poem
Between them

How many times can you run
From the shadow of the voices that
Surround you

Beating like drums in the darkness
Tasting more of your flesh each time
Not leaving enough for a man to breathe
No way for a man to

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