Beat Out Poems | Examples

thumping my way

I joyfully beat out my word syllables
as if I am a professional drummer
thumping my way into the Amazon

Gate to our Eternity

"Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity."

--Khalil Gibran

She returns here every May sixteenth,
the day she was to marry. 
I saw her GHOSTLY visage there
at the GATES of the cemetery.

I went,  as I've done everyday,
to lay flowers upon her GRAVE. 
I, the GRIEF-STRICKEN groom
just striving to be brave.

Just as the sun set and darkness fell
I heard a ghastly GROANING. 
I ran to where the sound had been
 from a tomb I heard her moaning.

Just by the rusted, wrought iron gate
stood a GODFORSAKEN soul
in gown of white GOSSAMER and grave dirt.
My weak heart beat out of control.

Then suddenly a flash of light,
and she was as she had been.
I was in my good white suit...
they must have buried me in. 

Together, hand in hand again
we finally got to marry!
Then we entered our eternity
through the gates of the cemetery.

Trancefire

Mystic dancer in the firelight,
spinning, swirling as her soul takes flight,
chasing spirits on an astral plane
and catching them to call by name.

Perspiration beads on her skin,
arms spread like wings of her peregrine,
bracelets jingle and scatter light
and she dances late into the night.

Drummers beat out a strong tattoo,
her tempo quickens, her heartbeat too,
as visions spiral around her head
conjuring spirits of dancing dead.

She slips the veil without a glance,
and shadow-selves begin their dance.
Her falcons carve the moonlit air—
and now she's flying, wild and bare.

The fire sends embers up like stars,
she soars past Mercury and Mars,
hearing old songs in tongues once known,
and bringing back silence, but not alone.

She settles to Earth in the deepening night
as the fire burns low, no longer bright.
A blink, a smile, and her trance subsides
as prophecies in her eyes abide.

Disconnected

In a world woven with wires,
I stand still,
a stranger in the hum of voices,
the glow of screens reflecting
a pale loneliness against my skin.

Friendships flicker like dying flames,
texts sent into the void,
echoes of laughter lost
in the thrum of busy signals,
each notification a reminder,
of the spaces that grow deeper,
instead of filling with warmth.

How fragile the bridge of connection,
laid across the chasms of silence,
where hearts beat out of sync,
and the faces we see
are mere pixels,
floating just beyond our reach.

I reach for you,
but my fingers touch only
the cool glass of a phone,
a promise of something genuine,
shattered by the speed of life,
like leaves swept in a gust,
unanchored, unbound.

Yet in this disarray,
I yearn for the days
when laughter rolled,
unfiltered and free,
and eyes met without barriers,
in the sun’s embrace,
where distance was simply
a flat horizon,
and warmth was felt,
not imagined.



But the world keeps spinning,
tethered by threads of technology,
as I stand here yearning,
a spirit adrift,
seeking the shores
of connection once more.

Bubble of Positivity

She liked walking.
At a certain time of day—
As she’d pass my place,
Her pace would melt.
Like sugar on a stove,
Before quickly bubbling up,
As I opened the door.
All colours caught her eyes.
From the softest red,
To the brightest green—
She would lean towards them.
With shocking electricity,
That 1000 volt smile,
Brighter than any colour I’ve seen.
Presentations were her worst nightmare.
Something straight out of a thriller—
Her heart would beat out of it’s chest.
Though rest would escape it,
As she dashed out of the room,
Into the corridor,
Frantically grabbing my hand,
Before stopping once more.
A girl who did it all.
At the very least she did most—
Keeping her love hidden away.
She’d pray to never be hurt,
Pushing away those who care,
Hoping I’d see her smile—
But all I saw was her glare.

Disconnected

Disconnected
In a world woven with wires,
I stand still,
a stranger in the hum of voices,
the glow of screens reflecting
a pale loneliness against my skin.

Friendships flicker like dying flames,
texts sent into the void,
echoes of laughter lost
in the thrum of busy signals,
each notification a reminder,
of the spaces that grow deeper,
instead of filling with warmth.

How fragile the bridge of connection,
laid across the chasms of silence,
where hearts beat out of sync,
and the faces we see
are mere pixels,
floating just beyond our reach.

I reach for you,
but my fingers touch only
the cool glass of a phone,
a promise of something genuine,
shattered by the speed of life,
like leaves swept in a gust,
unanchored, unbound.

Yet in this disarray,
I yearn for the days
when laughter rolled,
unfiltered and free,
and eyes met without barriers,
in the sun’s embrace,
where distance was simply
a flat horizon,
and warmth was felt,
not imagined.

But the world keeps spinning,
tethered by threads of technology,
as I stand here yearning,
a spirit adrift,
seeking the shores
of connection once more.

A Symphony

Join me for an evening
where a warm autumn breeze
brings us a symphony
blown through the trees.

Of crickets and their violins
to make up the strings,
and the frogs with their horns
shall account for the winds.

With the percussion of thunder
to beat out the time,
while the nightingale sings
a forgotten old thyme.

All brought together 
in sweet harmony,
for an audience there
of just you and me.

Christmas Fuzz

Little drummer boy with a rum-tum-dumb
Beat out a melody in ghetto slum
Fuzz drove slowly by
Saw Santa in sky
Consumed donuts as he fell on his bum

Written 11-29-2022
Contest: a Funny Christmas or December Holiday Limerick
Sponsor: Tania Kitchen

Sweet Melody

SWEET MELODY:

It runs down the soul,
Breaks through every part as it flows.
The ligaments gently position themselves to enclose;
Causes sharp urge in all the bones.
Melts the hardened heart so slow.
Intellectual ability begins to grow.
The eyes suddenly open to aglow,
Immediately music throws a blow.
Its devices are gracious balm.
Rejuvenates the framework to stand.
It beautifully create multiple ambience for meditations,

Which equips spines through sensations. 
Its sounds beat out the emotions,
And wholesomeness is felt in magical reflections.
The framework grows actively crazy in motions,
Making the listener jump out to dance.
The lyrical inspirations serve a boost.
The rythms rock like thunderstrike;
Extremely unleashes the hidden brain with a soothe.
The feeling is a strong medicine to the mind.
Yes, music is the soul's food,
Satisfies and replenishes the soul to be
good.

She Is My Oxygen

This way
I’ll remember you always
Your sweetness 
Your warmth 
The love 

It took me on such a journey to see you 
To have you by my side 
Yet I was blind all these years

Strange ways is life
Reasons out of my control 
Following a path 

I was there you were there
Yet it took years to fall
To fall for each other
To feel our two hearts beat out of our chest
Thumping towards each other
My eyes wide open, my heart ready to feel yours 

Mysteries of life
Path crisscross 
Hearts pass 
Hearts land on love
Souls connect 

It’s her face with such a smile
I take in 
Like oxygen she is my life
The breath I need every day of my life
My feelings for her
She is Breathless

My Dream Vacation

Tucked high into a saddle in the hills,
Set far above a river vale below,
With wooded glades and waters calm and still,
I cannot think a finer place to go.

A daybreak in the east will steal your breath:
Tequila sunrise bathed in swaths of pink.
A breeze is gently blowing ‘round the hill;
The solitude gives ample space to think.

The redbuds are in bloom in fuchsia hues.
The pileated drums beat out grub wars.
New life abounds, emerging from decay.
Above, a lazy red hawk circling, soars. 

When I’m away, I long here to return,
To wander oaken trails and hillsides roam.
My dream vacation, here before my eyes;
I pinch myself, for I’ve arrived back home.

————-


Seventh Place Winner
For the My Dream Vacation Poetry Contest
Sponsored by L Milton Hankins
Written 03/04/2022

Blackbird In September

In dream lone blackbird sits on telephone line,
pleading, what more do I have to give. 

Wing once beat out a metronome in time..
leaving thoughts lost through a sieve.

I swore to rebuild our earthen dam,
and hold the waters at bay.

Your dream found a different plan, 
left nothing more to say. 

Race, now long finished, deemed total loss..,
left my prideful soul entreating. 

Waste heart's song diminished, too high the cost,
ask why the day so fleeting.

Last candle's light gleamed in his glowering gaze,
Write journal'd fate, no answer would he belie,
 
September's temper teamed in shortened days,  
to kiss late remember'd lips good-bye.

Better Bitter Bit of Me

There better be a bit of me to better not yet bitterly but if the bitter bit of me is bigger than the better be it better be the better bit get better over bitter bit so bitter bit the little bit and better bit the bigger bit then with better bit the bigger bit bigger than the bitter bit I bet bit by bit the better bit betters bigger whilst little bits of bitter bits get beaten bitter to little bits as I beat out bitter bits living bitterly battering those bits bitter to better me til bitter bits don't fit in me making better better and better bigger and with no more bits of bitter and no more bitter bits in me leaving better bitterless better betters bigger the bigger the better's better whilst the bitter so little it's beaten bitter in bits

Concert

Colors swirl, rotate; wings beat out a symphony; butterfly concert.

He Is a Liar and a Thief

When he lies
It is because his punishments have been so severe, that he knows 
He saves himself from the
Flyswatter,
The belt,
The whip,
The chain, 
The out-of-control anger
Disapproval, disappointment, 
And wrath
By lying.

When he steals it is
When he is hungry,
Or he is sad
That 
He will
Never have hope of attaining these things for himself
As all hope
Was beat out of him
A long time ago.
He is powerless, he is a child, of an angry, out-of-control parent.
Lying and stealing are not what contented, safe children do.

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