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Static Heartbeats
20/M/TX    Two destined-to-be-dead poets inspired by Unus Annus who will post poems on HePo and on instagram (@static_heartbeats) and delete the accounts on 12/31/2021.
Binaural Beats
i live inside my mind    find someone who makes you feel sane then run the opposite way. -S.L.

Poems

Terry O'Leary Mar 2013
1

The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
     as he beats of humanity wrapped in a shroud.

Well he beats of the **** and the killing of war
     and the mind mangling sorrow we blithely ignore
          and he beats of combatants who’re dying deceived
               while the merchants of ****** count profits received.

And he beats of civilians so savagely slain
     and of bundles of bodies cast off in distain,
          and he beats of the butch'ry that's feeding the flood,
               clogging drains with our flesh, filling swamps with our blood.

And he beats of cadavers, by famine defined
     that has ravished and plagued since the dawn of mankind,
          and he beats of big biz letting oranges decay
               while a child suffers scurvy and passes away.

He beats and he pounds till our consciences gnaw
     and his fingers are battered and ****** and raw
          and his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.

2

The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
     as he beats of abuse that we try to becloud.

Well he beats of the barons and princes and kings
     who have broken broad backs with their clubs and their slings,
          and he beats of the toll of divine royal rights
               when the droit du seigneur sullied white wedding nights.

     And he beats of the bribes that the powerful make
          to the pale politicians who wax in their wake,
               and he beats of the waifs bound by chains to machines,
                    and of slaves sporting nooses, and other such scenes.

And he beats of the tyrants in clerical garb
     who have tortured with ******* and thumbscrews and barb
          and he beats of decrees claiming all men are free
               while ignoring cowed thralls and their agonised plea.


He beats and he pounds till revealing the flaw
     and his fingers are battered and ****** and raw
           and his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.

3

The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
     as he beats of the strength of the rebels so proud.

Well he beats of the spirit the rack couldn’t break,
     and the fragrance of flesh that was burned at the stake,
          and he beats of gray witches submerged in a pond,
               being swum to nirvana and even beyond.

And he beats of the minds that could never be chained
     by the faith that was living while ignorance reigned;
          and he beats of bold battles when Spartacus rose        
               having tired of shackles and slavery’s woes.

And he beats of bent women who’ll fight to be freed
     and will never give up till they finally succeed,
          and he beats of their progress, belying the jeers,
               overwhelming the pessimists' fatuous sneers.

He beats and he pounds till we stand back in awe
     and his fingers are battered and ****** and raw
          and his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.

4

The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
     as he beats of the sights that he’s seen from a cloud.

Well he beats of the passion when lovers have lain
     with their bodies entwined midst a field of fresh grain;
          and he beats of the joy when a mother has smiled
               while she’s nursing a baby, her newly born child.

And he beats of the sorrow upsurging inside
     leaving shadows and ruins when loved ones have died.
          Then he beats of an image that looms as a dream
               of a time when compassion and love reign supreme.

And he beats of lush meadows pale yellow and green,
     shining lakes in a woodland, a river serene.
          Then he beats of a planet that dies in a sweat,
               and of smirks of the dullards denying the threat.

He beats and he pounds till we see what he saw
     and his fingers are battered and ****** and raw
          and his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.

*

The drummer beats slowly, the drummer beats loud
    
     And he beats of humanity wrapped in a shroud
          And he beats of abuse that we try to becloud
               And he beats of the strength of the rebels so proud
                    And he beats of the sights that he’s seen from a cloud.

     And he beats and he pounds till our consciences gnaw
          And he beats and he pounds till revealing the flaw
               And he beats and he pounds till we stand back in awe
                    And he beats and he pounds till we see what he saw.

And his fingers are battered and ****** and raw
     And his hands are all broken and bleeding and raw.

          And his hands are all
               broken
                   and bleeding
                        and raw.
shakela storr Jul 2011
African Beats
Written By- Shakela Storr

African Beats, African Beats, African Beats, can u hear those African beats
Im having sleepless nights, nightmares with meanings of life, waking up in cold sweats my heart  is pounding and it goes Boom Boom and its goes faster Boom Boom and faster Boom Boom.
And I begin to get weak and the sound of drums ring off in my ear like an alarm clock and its loud and it gets louder and louder every min and I start to lose it and I scream
( stopppppppppppp) !
Tossing and turning in my bed I feel scared the beats show me a pregnant woman who was beaten to shreds.
Then I see slaves in shackles and were tackled by the white slaves masters who thought they were nothing but senseless disgusting cattle’s .
The beats get louder and I see my forefathers with chains around their neck fifty lashes to their chest with demands that if they don’t shut up and work their children are next.
The beats get louder and I cry stopppppppppppp!!!! ,  but instead all I see is an old crippled man working on a cotton field with  dreams of being free to go and he sings very loudly let my people go.  
Then I heard him sing ‘’ Wait in the water, wait in the water children, wait in the water God is gonna trouble the waters’’.
  O what a sight to see black African people not being free, then the beats show me a family of three who was brutally murdered because they decided it was time for freedom of speech.
African beats, African Beats, African Beats can u hear those African Beats,
Yes drum beats I can hear you, but why do you trouble me so, why do you make my heart so weak with tears I have to know?
Why do you show me such horrifying images, what are you trying to say  i just want you to leave me alone and go away.
Why were black people treated so bad, why were these white people so mad? 
 Why did they take black people from the motherland and ship them away to be so sold like gold, why did they tear families apart that’s so cold?
Africans beats I beg of u please leave me alone whatever your trying to say I get the picture Black African people have come a long long way.
Black people have come so far that we should be proud of where we are today.
We should be proud that were even allowed to pray.
We should be proud that our ancestors fought for our rights and though  it was never easy they didn’t give up without a fight.
We should be proud that Martin luther King Jr  had a dream and saw us 20 , 30 years later not living in shame.
We should be proud that our ancestors were so brave they had a hard life but it surely paid off one day.
Beats I hear your message and it’s very clear I am black and proud to be here.

Written by- Shakela Storr
This poem is about the struggles of Black African History where we use to be and where we are today. Enjoy
Carissa Lee Aug 2015
I'm not sure what it is
That makes my heart beat beat beat for you
But that smile that lights up my world
Now has me running for miles

And the warmth of you
Now makes me feel so cold
But my heart still beats beats beats for you

My heart still aches
From leaving you alone in this world
But your love no longer fills the void
So I leave in the morning

And baby I am mourning
And baby I am yearning for your touch
But my heart still beats beats beats for you

I know you won't understand
Why you woke up all alone
But your sad eyes are enough to **** me
Now our lips will never meet again

And the thought of you
Brings me to tears
But my heart still beats beats beats for you

Your absence awakes all my fears
But you're no longer here to scare them away
Baby I'm afraid that you're arms will never hold me
I'm sorry that it ended this way

But my heart still beats beats beats for you
My heart still beats beats beats for you
And my heart still breaks breaks breaks for you