My drum has perforations; now flawed
Mylar parchment once taut on bone
Leaks prose; but each metaphor pored
Percussive skull reverbs teeming tome
Waning instrument yet waxing lyrical
Tympanic threepenny opera still plays
Snare split - verbose ****** spiracles
Whip quick flick of offal; tongue flays
Well weathered but - oh still sensual
Drum bongo crammed with lyrics learned
Skin leathered; worn – still beautiful
Spills tales – well told – well earned
©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness – 2018 – All rights reserved)
The head is the drum of our band! Our instrument, through which we see, speak, hear, smell and feel! We use our "head-drum" as a musician uses their drum....to tell tales...and, the older the drum, the more stretched the parchment...the better the story!
