drums

Fury

Faint at first the drums beat, then louder. 
I have been unchained, unleashed. 
My cell has been opened. 
  
I feel the rhythm beating within my chamber. 
The furnace glows red and blood like steel boils. 
Burning veins from within . 
  
Outside vultures. 
Circling, dancing in the sky on tattered wings. 
Spitting venom. 
Their shadows block out the Sun. 
   
In darkness I stand alone. 
The drums beat their monotone    
  
The flame burns violently. 
Fed by pain, my inferno. 
It’s heat burns the darkness away. 
Pain retreats. 
  
 I surrender myself. 
With hatred engulfed I roam, 
Incinerating the beasts, ripping out their tongues. 
  
And when the fires subside, 
I look back at glowing cinders and ash. 
  
I flee, from myself, I return bound to Tartarus, 
Alone . 
  
Until the drums beat their monotone. 

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Sound of Drums: Based on Les Miserables

Sound of Drums

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.


The day is past.

The dead are dead.

Their lives for naught.

Rebellion, they led.

Their Freedom!,

Never was.

Their Freedom!,

Will never be.


Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.

Slaves, chains, sound of drums.


The time is past.

The slaves are slaves.

Their lives ruled by law.

The rebellion, did not last.

Their bravery, their flaw.

Their Freedom!,

Never was.

Their Freedom!,

Will never be.


Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.

Smoke, ashes, sound of drums.






I'm Singing and Consciousness is on the Drums

Bump and bop and knock then stop.
It’s a rhythmic beat to reap the sleep
and see what’s been shown, not meet what’s
been known over and over again,
just changing how it flows from pen to pen
or mind to mind.
Just mind the edges and don’t fall off,
but conquer those hedges secluding Truth,
hung aloft up above for all to see,
and perceive Love,
shoved beneath and stomped
under feet, but breathing
and needing our attention,
undivided and whole—
a beckoning to our eternal soul.

-Ryan K. Fuller

Author's Notes/Comments: 

No comment

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The Sun Set (The Carrier Kit)

Things with strings, confounding

And yet I'll ask to borrow the cello

Pretend to play, pretend to learn how

Give it back after a week or so

 

I'll admire old reliable

With his six wires of endless possibilities

But I won't get the itch

And there will be nothing to cure

 

Then I turn around and see

Those big and bountiful things

So rosy and round, filled with the light

That always finds me feeling good.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A drum kit is like a beautiful woman.

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HER DRUMMER-BOY

Folder: 
LOVE KNOTS

Once upon a
time a very
young girl
began
searching
for her
drummer-boy.

She came in
contact with
one
thinking this
is he
not so.

Time passed
quickly
other drum
beats were
heard,
but they were
not the
right beat.

Then one
day in the
far distance
a foreign drum
was heard.
very different.

It was a new
love song
she had never
heard before.

The drum beat
grew louder
louder
bidding her
come and
explore.

As she stepped
near
there was he
standing in the
forrest
alone
drumming
their
love song.

At last she
had found her
drummer-boy
the one
she spent
years
searching
for.

(c) copyright heather burns

Author's Notes/Comments: 

AFTER YEARS OF SEARCHING THE LITTLE GIRL FOUND HER DRUMMER-BOY. THE ONE SHE HAD ALWAYS SEARCHED FOR.

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