"badum" poems
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as she trudged up the mountain
^
/ \
/ \
/ \
/ \
victory pulsing through her veins
badum badum badum badum
her eyes set intently on the peak
a deathly stare
she knew she could do anything
anything at all
she was anything but meek
this world is not for the meek
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Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 7:45 PM UTC
Little beads,
Jaded by time.
Bouncing.
Roll on the floor.
The end is here.
Fire Blooming in lungs,
Burning out what once was,
Creating fertile ground for the new.
Flowers weaving through veins,
Bursting through the heart.
Badum Badum Badum.
Excavating the chest,
Tearing through skin.
You see me there,
Rotting on a cracked floor,
Moss seeping through;
Long forgotten.
A smile on my face,
"Thank you for coming"
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 11:07 PM UTC
Moonlight lingers just so you can dance in its palm, under the palm trees while the sea breeze plays you a sonnet worth dying for,
The usually scattered sand now firm beneath your feet, the moon bears witness to this fleeting moment.
The water flows where your finger tip goes, out to the ocean you pointed your toes, eyes closed, I watched as your body moved on its own, waist moving from left to right in such a hypnotic motion, I was caught in a trance as you danced so gracefully.
What is this strange ritual, the rise of these drums, badum, badum, badum in my chest what are these drums, I feel cold sweat running down my neck my drums beat at a pace that match your feet and this is beautiful to me.
This unique conversation between our souls transcends the greed of flesh, I crave your music, I resonate with the nuances in your breath as you increase your tempo so do I increase the pace of my drums.
Badum badum badum, they beat all night, my eyes glued to your figure as I try to grab the essence of your movement, I want to put it onto pages like waves of the ocean, I wish to capture you in motion to decode this spell, but by the crack of dawn you were gone, and all that was left to prove that you and I existed that night was the print of your body in the sand beside me, and even that would fade with the waves of time, until you come back my drums will beat for no other, for you are eternally my moonlight lover.
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 9:25 PM UTC
I don't think my heart
know how to beat to
anything but
the sound your name
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 10:08 PM UTC
I yearn to someday make something of utmost individuality.
But it seems today I'm pensively turning blank pages perpetually.
It seems I'm marred, and it's
macrame macrame, same thing every time.
Presumably, light of it comes, but with what am I left as it goes?
Retinal scarring! Badum poots.
Maybe some knots in the cords of my back and creases down the corners of my every smile.
What comes up
must go down
dimple dimple frown frown
Come on outside for a while!
Sunshine daisy daffodil!
Hills and valleys, mountains
and canyons it's a whole
life story out there
But then I sit down
sit down,
and pluck the same strings
same strings.
Different order
same strings.
What'sit bring?
What's it bring?
Today I sit down
sit down
to tell you a story.
It's a short story,
but it's also a long story.
Like a mountain range you see from miles away without walking it's entire length.
I was a little monster with blinders on.
I took to my parents in a way of which I'm not too fond.
I was an orb of obsession and wrinkles of scorn on her forehead.
I was particles and waveforms trying to ride a bicycle.
I was ropa vieja mistaken for some kinda soup.
Papá!
You taught me how you saw the workings of the universe but you worked it like a cockroach. You turned me into low tail low tail grinding on the guard rail. Ready to flip over the side and tumble tumble crash. I was ready to die. You sewed my face onto screens of LEDs screaming with the cries of unclothed children. and you left me crying Mäma!
Mäma!
Saving grace grave face I'm sorry for what he's done to you. I see the weight of over two decades worth of ball and chain dead leaves still dangling from your eyelashes. I see you ripping them out from the roots when it gets to be too much. I solemnly sit beside you at that cursed kitchen table trying to wish on as many of my own so that yours may grow back without any fault. Oh, but I see them sprouting out all crooked in all directions and whenever you bat an eye you run the risk of years of silent tears tumbling on back in an attempt to finally be heard.
I've learned that no truth will come from the wishes you make on the lashes you take with force. Let 'em go with grace. Leave them alone and let them fall from your face like the loudest raindrops.
Our wishes come true just as we speak —
and listen...
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
Maybe it was your smile that brought me back to life
Maybe it was your kindness that lifted my spirit up
Maybe it was your voice that makes my heart go badum
Maybe it was your eyes that glanced at me so lovingly
Maybe it was you aura that gives me good vibes
But overall it's all you, the you that takes my maybe and make them into reality
Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 8:57 AM UTC