Drumming Poems - Poems about Drumming

Asheville North Carolina

Walking downtown streets of Asheville 
I could hear drums in the white wind
Despite being deserted I feel a thrill
Of creative energy hoping to thrive again

The shops full of unique crafts and goods
With store workers seemingly bored
Gentrified was the emerald neighborhood 
But evidence of roots still in stores

Helene had come through full steam 
Wiping away many

And the Drumming Gets Louder

unquestioning faith
propaganda sweet like candy
follow me says the lie
Cemeteries buried with good intentions
 
And the Drumming Gets Louder

Knowledge is taught wisdom is not
The sweet taste of candy turns sour
When God is played like a juke box
But He can't be bought many have tried

And the Drumming Gets Louder

I wonder why for power
For the history books and

Drumming

Rains tapping on metal roof- ancient musical instruments

Drumming the Way

Trying to find
The happiness of 
Trying to find
The way
They kept him on life support
I sat outside and would not move
He had suffered greatly from his heart attack
I tried to pray but I had no connection
I had an old original native drum
Could I have found a connection
To where he went 
When he left his soul
It must

Mystical Song of Trees

PRELUDE.
When the sky and world are dark no sounds are heard in the woods. Perhaps the scrabbling of night creatures on the hunt fo food. But no sound of woodpeckers ra ta tatting, bird song is diminished  owls glide in silent flight. Moonlight , dappled  on  forest floor illuminating fungi and watery

Drumming In the Kitchen

When you listen
    a plate screaming
    and  thus  a pan in the kitchen...
    It's a sign that there's a man
    messing with it without
    knowing how to move... oh race
    more stuck up than ever

Drumming Omnipotence

I think we are all drummers – 
of course, drum musicians know
that drumming is not just pounding
on the skins (well, vinyl these days) – 
there is also, soulful brushwork, and
finessing of symbols...not everyone a crash; 
drums breathe -- all parts -- from outer
shells to inner resonance; influenced
also by surface temperature, humidity
of the room, and the

Drum Circle - February 16, 2018

DRUM CIRCLE
FEBRUARY 16, 2018

Tonight we talked to the earth
with our drums, our pulsating prayers
a rhythm and blues, a galloping growl,
an angry lament, a wretched outpouring
at the new Hunger Moon, at the latest mass
shooting, at a winter of despair in an amoral
era of high-tech and hate!
The Yoruba wail and the Lakota chant,
the bells on the drums

Drumming Fingers

Drums 
Beaten by ladies fingers 
Sticks now, to do dong,dong

Drumsticks adding 
Ladies fingers 
Cooked into dishes 
Feeling tasty tongues

Goosebumps Where Did You Come From

Out of the blue from head to toe,                                               

Drums Chanting Truth

drums
chanting
natural
native rhythm
healing nurturing
medicine man
shamanic
drumming
truth

Drumming As One

Drums in the distance;
Thundering booming
Echo the heartbeat
A people’s story;
Native pulse pounding.

Celebration
Of ancestral
Heritage is,
Necessary.

All one tribe;
Remember
The voices;

We are 
All the,

Same.

Drumming Solo

Slow and deliberate the drums march on, 
Flooding the air with a sound,
Seducing the masses to obey every beat, 
Commanding the masses to drown,

In the ritual of now, the ritual of float, 
The rise up and grow like a spring,
Commanding the masses be free in the air, 
Commanding to not even think,

And they throb and

My Little Carpenter's Serenade

In the tree by my house, 
Lived, a black rumped flameback, with its spouse.
Their oscine songs and undulating flight were my daily delight.

Oh! Today it was flicking the rear-view mirror of my car,
May be, it found another song bird inside.
Jabbing and drilling to play or may be, to fight.
Or maybe, those unique rolls and the

Compelling

it's always been a mystery 
why i am so moved day or night 
at the sound of native drumming 
when loudly my heart thumps in rhythm 
ducking logic with every beat
stirring deep primal emotions 
awakening dormant passion 
releasing unchartered tension 
setting free inner vibrations 
beneath layers rising chanting 
echoing way inside my head 
is something

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