Long Drumbeats Poems
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The stars are black tonight
They understand this indigo grief
to honor you, they dip their crowns
into the inkwell of infinity.
The stars are black tonight
mood pared by garish green
even the sun tastes of old dried blood
a heart wedged between tide and reef
the stars are black tonight, my love.
Will I ever embrace the grace of truer days,
when you coddled a nearly dead beloved pet
gave your time and lunch to that raggedy gent...
The thickest of your defenses stripped of all veneer...
The stars are black tonight, my dear.
This night lies, queerly tilted in the mind.
I've dreamt of you in thorny places
that I'd never care to seek nor find.
I'd much rather go completely blind; the stars are black tonight, my shine.
I imagine your skin kissing the cold earth.
Rain waters tickling that red kelp hair
swaying to the drumbeats' blight.
Of the final rest, there's no respite
The stars are black tonight.
Iris sun fades and so does the day
whispers the carried in the silence of night glowing
Wishes floating on silver trails faraway
The image of your face will forever bounded to this world
Angels Brought you to me made a lightening
sparkling diamonds in the misting treasures gems so bright
Ice roses turns into a steaming jungle of quivering glass
Flashing in the distance, in the moon light
and all of its stars, that's where the angels dancing
A beautiful adventure picture sparklers on a winter night
A cold moon dressed in dark velvet
with a pearl milky white smile beams
Sparkling jewel crystal lights up
stars blinking silver awakening
warm invading darkness your light
My life has at last found its light and its hope
Soulful cries a wolf dressed in winter clothes
faraway over ocean waves
carries in a wind’s whisper sweet music dances
A magical night that will set the spirit free
Silently breathes out a puff of magic sweetly
beauty enchants warmly etching strikes
frosted fingers cracking ice deeply echoes
Striking inside bells toll warmly skipping drumbeats
bouncing of chamber walls loving tunes
Believing in your love a dream
Which enchants music of the butterflies dance
howling clouds out steaming warm sighs fluttering warmly
I closed my eyes at the end of the road
and thought of the stars
and the reason earth spins around the sun
A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and
Anne- Lise Andresen :) - 28.12.2014 -
Legends of tribes roam across the plains
Bold spirits guarding their own mighty land
They dance and offer songs to ease lost reign
And nourish life when soldiers flag on,
Encircling a bonfire with shaman’s praise.
The whisper of the winds gives them strength
An Indian terrain, they protect
Oh, hear drumbeats pound a mighty roar
As chieftain gathers the arrow’s quest
For the call of blood, for freedom’s dreams.
Legends passed from generations
Navajos marginalized, tales unfold
When duskfall speaks of native wisdom
To recount strides in brave moccasins
Marking prints from whisper of the winds.
'In the Name of Love for Country -
and Brian's Select 6
Women of a certain age
Pour hearts out on the written page.
Tarnished by a tangled past
Now silence gained a voice at last.
Between raising kids and husbands too,
And survival, jobs, free moments few,
Recording life behind their eyes,
The chores got done and families thrived.
Beauty wanes, youth’s spark subsides,
But a women’s wisdom steadily abides.
She stares out from her quiet home,
May the drumbeats of her heart be known.
Her favorite pen is close at hand
The fiercest sword within the land
For the woman who lived the fullest life,
Tells truth of human joy and strife.
Beware they say, she’s old and wise
No longer concerned with outward guise
She’s just as likely to boldly slay us,
To cut us down,and coldly play us.
Unshackled now from mediocrity,
Beware the woman who's been set free.
A writhing viper, spat venom through the air.
Its toxic breath compelled the meek to despair.
The wild, thunderous decree, forced them to flee.
Into hiding, to scrub away threats to liberty.
Next a gilded map was etched in desert sand.
It ensnared the weary to invest in promised land.
But floods and droughts devoured the pilgrim’s trust.
Milk and honey promises, dissolved in choking dust.
Turn the wheel, turn it round.
Don’t let rusty spokes break ground.
Push the wheel, push it through.
Hope is rising; Dharma's shiny new.
Brothers slay brothers who once held hands.
Now blood runs red, across the kinship sands.
Drumbeats call the masses to howl and obey.
Fighting endless wars for lies that all betray.
Incense burns with pungent smoke in eyes.
The priests lure the masses with face paint dyes.
Hallucinations reek crazy in maddened crowd,
With ancient voodoo curses read out loud.
The wheel turns slowly, its spokes begin to grind,
The darkened void of Aquarius haunts the mind.
The dark sky itself, tolls urgent alarms with a chime,
Counting down the dwindling steps of mortal time.
Yet from the muddy slime, a silver sliver arose,
It lifts the wheel that rust and ruin had froze.
It scrapes and oils the hub and spokes on the ground.
It wrenches Dharma's wheel round, round, right around.
Turn the wheel, turn it ‘round.
Don’t let the spokes break ground.
Push the wheel, push it through,
Hope is waiting, shining new.
Lift the wheel, lift it high,
Silver hands will pierce the sky.
Turn the wheel, turn it round,
Spin the wheel of hope, unbound.
I hear the earth speak softly in my sleep,
In tongues of wind that wander through my bone;
Old footsteps rise from valleys dark and deep
Where seeds of memory wait to be grown.
The soil remembers hands that never fade,
The sweat of strength that watered silent graves;
The songs of mothers in the evening shade,
The fire that dances where the river paves.
For I am carved from stories yet unsung,
From drumbeats hidden in ancestral night;
Where ancient voices pulse upon my tongue,
And turn the blood within me into light.
The red earth keeps the laughter and the tears
Of men who walked with courage in their chest;
It guards the footsteps of forgotten years
And shelters dreams that never learned to rest.
So when the wind begins its roaming call,
And shadows trace the hills of silent lore,
I hear the echoes — patient, proud, and tall —
Returning to the living evermore.
For I am child of dust that learned to rise,
Yet carries roots that hunger for the sky;
The earth still sings inside my searching eyes,
And never lets its wandering spirit die.
Upon their granite, sculpted brows,
A chiffon ballet swirls and bows.
Cloud-scarves drape, light as a sigh,
Where mountains, aged and stoic, lie.
Feathers of heaven, soft and white,
Escape the nest of day's pale light,
Tangled in peaks, a playful tease,
Whispered secrets on the breeze.
Cotton castles, stacked on high,
Guarded by giants reaching for the sky.
Sunlight paints, in fleeting grace,
A masterpiece on Nature's face.
Ballerinas, light and fair,
Dance against the mountains' stare.
Shy mist clings, a child afraid,
Of open sky, and sunlight's raid.
Ships of air, on wind-tossed seas,
Navigate where giants please.
Rudder clouds, in currents deep,
Around the mountain's rocky steep.
Whispers carried, secrets told,
Through pine and rain, the story's rolled.
Sunbeams pierce, in dappled grace,
The mountain's rugged, timeless face.
Drumbeats rumble, deep and low,
Thunder's voice, where shadows grow.
Mountains watch, unyielding, strong,
As clouds sing out their fleeting song.
In this canvas, vast and grand,
Nature's symphony plays at hand.
From whispers soft, to thunder's call,
The mountains hold it all, in all.
So stand we here, where shadows play,
And watch the clouds dance out their day.
In every twist, and every hue,
A mountain's tale, whispered true.
As the final glimpse
of the sun leads into
an everlasting spectacle
of twinkling dreams,
peeking through
turmeric traces
of an amber aftermath,
I listen to the
nesting nightingales
croon nostalgic lullabies,
and search for a
celestial ray
that would illustrate,
the beginning
of
butterflies
within
my glass heart.
When twilight is
just a
mere mirage
in the distance of
my destitute mind,
and tune
of your
laughter
reverberates
in rhapsodic refrain;
a raspy rhythm
ringing
through
rustic breeze,
whilst the
whistling
wind waves
to the
dandelions
dancing
to your
delicate drumbeats,
scintillating stars
fall upon
our silhouettes,
scattering pieces of
who I once
used to be-
within pulsating
flesh and bones,
before I felt the
warmth of your
cosmic whispers.
Now initials of
your amethyst
song is the
penultimate prefix
to my path
of
healing,
where
sentimental sighs
between us,
unveil
wordless
smiles electrifying
a classical crescendo;
awaiting beneath
instrumental wings.
I count the
flickering jewels,
splattered across
nocturnal
night-skies,
questioning if this
is
another
start
of a
weary winter?
or is this just
a seasonal distraction,
intoxicating my
procrastinating pen,
or is your voice a
heaven-sent elixir,
to soothe the satanic
seas evaporating
black salt-
drizzling toxic rain,
upon my
porcelain choir,
synchronizing
a symphony
of soulmates destined
to
reunite and rewrite
a
roseate rendezvous.
Maybe,
fate reignited
to align
the emerald
glow between
you and I,
Maybe, I’ve long
been a wanderer,
on a quest to reach
the rainbow
swirls
above your
musky garden,
where background
music is
the poetry woven
from your
cryptic ink.
You’ll always remain
the
last maestro
in my carnival
of chaos,
amidst the loudness
of screeching demons
chattering within every
darkest sheet of
dreary December.
The voice of Emilien
(A lone voice whispers)
I once met the King of all Darkness
In France
As we played poker for my soul
In a burnt out house
While Edith Piaf sang
La vie en rose
On a tattered radio
With no power
He carried in his pocket
Causing the watching fireflies to dance
I remember asking the Tall Man where he'd been
He said
Paris
To cause the Germans and the Resistance some pain
And as we played in that falling smoke-filled rain
I cheated and won
The prize
Reaching out through someone after my time has run
After my sunrise was over
Summoned by the setting Sun
In darkness
To see if the world still cries
Like it did before me
In 44
So I send this
For we played
Again
Late last night
Old Nick and me
And He won
The prize
Taking me where
The sun don't shine
To be endlessly chastised
So this is my last message
For your eyes
Before your sun rises
Look to the East
The low drumbeats
Of World War Three are starting to beat
For many
There will be pain like
Oradour-sur-Glane
Something so evil
You should all remember
Who and what you do
In whoever's name
Or you could be playing poker with the Tall Man
As Edith Piaf sings
La vie en rose
On his tattered radio
As The East and NATO
Trade nukes
Compelled to do so
By the prodding of the Tall Man and the curse
Of the male ego
Goodbye
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy
I am running away eloping
with you sweet love
inside the mind
Silently breathing ore sighs
A golden whisper blowing honey
melting treasure treats
softly in the wind silent warm
Blowing on precious pure beauty
Touching petal feelings
fluttering without wings
sweet carrying emotions from the soul
Dancing within music one song forever
Glowing warmly desires
sings gentle satin drumbeats
in a cotton echoing harmony
Always chocolate kissing nibbles
In every single thought that whispers
love endearing each heartbeat
skipping gasps
Sweetly grasps the soul
warming echoing sighs deeply loving you