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T­his poem is self translated version of my Hindi language poem titled "शिव स्वरूपं" published in pratilipi on (Dec. 2017) Can be read through the link ==>> https://bit.ly/2P4j7vE
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That face of Lord Shiva is most beautiful in which he holds Ganga in his hairs
The Moon feels blessed by beautifying the head of Shiva as a glittering crown

The Serpants also became jewellery by themselves and decorated his blue neck
Shiva holds the trident on one hand and plays the Damroo from the other one

He has seated himself on a mat of Tiger Skin and rubbed pyre ash on his body
He has left elephant and the horses and decided to travel on an old Bull Nandi

By such an amazing face form, he is always ready for the welfare of devotees
The cruel and wicked have always been afraid of his eldritch face and form.

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Shiva (See Line 1): A God (The Destroyer) in Hindu Mythology
Ganga (See Line 1): The Holy river whose flow and speed is controlled by the coiled hairs (Jatas) of Lord Shiiva
Damroo(See Line 4): A sort of musical instrument ( Pellet Drum )
Nandi((See Line 6)): A bull in Indian mythology who is the vehicle of Lord Shiva
The Mesmerizing Face of God Shiva
Sumairupoetry Jul 16
There was a Melody, that had a heart that took risk, it soared the highest heights of the skies, to the lowest lows of the seas.

There was indeed a Melody, that strummed a beautiful rhythm everyone around could not unhear.

Every beat of the nomadic drum, captured hearts and ignited passion, love and a willingness to be a selfless lover.

There was indeed a Melody, and Melody's Melody spoke to me.
This was inspired by an amazing woman named Melody.
Erian Apr 2
Hearts beat
To the weight of a drum
With a steady beat
Against our palms
You're all I see
In the light of the day
Our pulse thumping
All in one
It's a rhythm,
Pounding in my brain,
For words to match.
That's the aim.

This poem has rules,
For which I make
The words to follow
Or the rhythm breaks.

Four lines a verse entails.
The rules are clear to me.
Lines second and last
Must have synchrony.

Some call this rhythm poetry,
To most a simple rhyme,
The words are much more to me.
They help improve my mind.

With every verse I write
New words come to me.
The rhythm and good luck
enhance my vocabulary.

Like the pulsing of a drum.
The rhythm has a beat.
The words, they march to that.
With measure and repeat.

Now the poundings stopped.
The words all written down.
I can rest a while
Listening for that sound.
Arisa Mar 7
DON.
ka
DON DON.
ka
Repetitive rhythms,
Palms burning red.
All in unison, we bang the center -
And hit the drum's edge,

The audience
below
can feel the rumble
in their hearts:

Taiko.
I miss my taiko group...
Steve Page Dec 2018
Reuben's got his friends.
Reuben's got a tribe.
Reuben now knows where he belongs.
Reuben's standing straight.
Reuben's walking tall.
Reuben will recall where he is from.

And now
he knows
he's loved.

Reuben's word is true.
Reuben's word is strong.
Reuben's word is wise beyond his years.
Reuben's speaking loud.
Reuben's teaching truth.
Reuben will be heard beyond his peers.

And now
he knows
he's loved.

Reuben's got his friends.
Reuben's got a tribe.
Reuben now knows who he'll become.
Reuben's standing straight.
Reuben's walking tall.
Reuben knows he'll dance to heaven's drum.

And now
he knows
he's loved.
To my new friend Reuben Cal Hamilton.
K Balachandran Nov 2018
Lightning sets fire,
Thunderclaps rattle dark clouds;
Rainstorm declares war!
Lyn-Purcell Oct 2018


-
The music of my life,
harmony and discord,
differs from yours

I dance, solely and
purely, to the beat
of mine own drum
-


Feeling so queasy today....
Ugh.
Lyn ***
Allesha Eman Oct 2018
Sometimes there are words on blank pages,
If you look closely enough.
Sometimes there is music in the silence,
If you listen closely enough.
But it all comes down to if you see it,
The spaces between the letters,
The messages in my whispers,
Or my cunning subtlety that screams in your face.
Sometimes my eyes recite poetry,
But you’d have to look into them to know.
Sometimes there are prayers in my blank stares,
And sometimes my silence is a drum.
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