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Aug 22, 2019
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Listening to the drums (primal poetry)
he heart begins slightly to race
and she is not happy. The steady
thum, thum, thum, is not her taste.
a little boy is being physically bullied,
forced to be subservient to the will
of a more powerful other.
mind then drifts to abstractions
where it picks up the eternals
to bridge the tempora sphere.
Then the beat calls me back, the heart
has accustomed, and I can understand;
after all, we all come out of Africa.
Today it is not just sticks beating against
animal skin. Today the sound is different
as if it had a voice that would speak to me.
but what emotion is there in monotony,
what ice, what fire can a monotone create.
Still I do not drift, still I do not fall in.
About This Poem
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Geezer
5 years 10 months ago
I'm guessing...
that you are still having difficulty in gaining that space where you are in the throes of a vision. Keep trying, you will learn to ignore those around you and maybe try to eliminate those that distract you. ~ Geezer.
.
weirdelf
5 years 10 months ago
This is terrific and honest, thank you Tyro
if you try it a few more times, perhaps different drumbeats might help, I've given links to several on the workshop page, you will go on a journey, I promise.