my wrist curls back
I feel the stick weighing
in my hand
as I propel it forward
to strike the head
of it.
the head vibrates
violently
shaking
trembling.
I cock back my foot
and give it
a swift kick
to the face.
Not once but
two
three
four
times.
After another
stick to the face,
I rear back and
crash into it.
As my cymbal simmers,
my guitarist glances back
and nods
as if to say.
“you killed it”
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3 Comments | tags: brutality, cock, crash, curls, cymbal, drum, drumming, drums, face, foot, guitar, guitarist, hand, head, kick, killed, once, originalpoetry.org, poetry, poetry about drumming, stick, swift kick, vibrates, violently, weighing, wrist, you killed it | posted in Uncategorized
If you see me,
crying in the dark
don’t ask me where I’m from,
don’t ask me where I’ve been,
Just let me in.
If you see me,
begging on my knees
yelling “please, God, please”
with no answers to my pleas,
Just let me in.
Everyone has
some troubles in life.
Everyone has
some grief and strife.
Sometimes we need
a helping hand,
to bring us up
and help us stand.
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10 Comments | tags: answers, begging, crying, dark, everyone, god, grief, hand, helping, helping hand, in, knees, let, me, need, originalpoetry.org, please, poetry, see, stand, strife, troubles, up, yelling | posted in Uncategorized
i’m living as a sieve
a bucket brimming with sand
until the rice and ashes
slip through the fingers of the hand
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Leave a comment | tags: ashes, blank vitae, bucket, fingers, hand, living, poetry, rice, sand, sieve | posted in Uncategorized