"cymbals" poems
When I saw her
The first woman with the first wide eyes
Bright and light and dark and deep
With life and mystery
My heart beat like the first hand struck the first drum
And the first song was sung
In dark caves of ten times ten thousand years ago
When I first breathed that first scent
My sight stopped
My mind stopped
My mind was my body and my hands and my gut
And my legs extending to the ground and the earth and time
And it slowed down like an ice age beginning
Then it melted into warm fire
Where it burned
The first touch of the first woman
Was electrical chemical radioactive bliss
Every piece of matter in me wanted to move and dance and shake and fly apart
The spark from the start of her heart beat
Crossed through the fibers and
Traveled down the pathways of her body
Down the chemical electric synapses
Through her arm and jumped across to my hand
And traveled up and started a new beat
It was a faster, and stronger beat
And it beat
And it beat
Like the first dance,
Shook with the slap and smack of ground and hands and feet
Oh the first woman was all women
And then there were other women
And they were people
Flesh and blood
And minds and thoughts
And feelings that I could not feel
Good and bad and indifferent
With hangups and problems
Blemishes and baggage
I met women coming
Women going
Here and there
Now and then
For coffee, for beer,
One evening or ten
I met scientists, nurses
bartenders and baristas.
Living lives I didn't mind
Giving time when it was mine
Asking for things I couldn't find
Then I saw You
All of you
In time and space and speed
I caught the scent of you
Your fragrance and perfume
And the primal musk of you
That fatal lusts allure
I felt you
The gravity of your body from across the room
Your electro-magnetic force pulling
Pressure of the displaced particles pushing
As you walked so slowly towards me
And time stopped
Light and sound and movement were captured
Captive to your hypnotic sway
Prisoner to your power over my perception
You moved through the still air
And it swept aside like a curtain as you passed
The world was quiet
And then it pounded
The pressure of it filled the air and everything around it
As you moved closer,
Like ride of the Valkyries
Rising and crashing in waves
It rose as you moved towards me
You carried it in your wake
And then it was a crescendo
A vast overpowering transcendent orchestral cacophony
Of immense intense sound and light and energy erupting
Cymbals crashed and horns blew and strings snapped under the pressure of the vibrations
Brilliant fireworks exploded in the black sky of your brown eyes
As you stopped a few feet from me
And time was stopped
You were the first woman
You were all women
You are
The only woman
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 1:03 AM UTC
Hear the bass, grace notes race all over the place
Cymbals paced, hi-hats chase, weaving between the bass
The piano - chords struck with wide spanned hands
Poly-rhythmic, multi-layered sounds in strands
The timbre of reed vibrating against warm metal
Precision; a sixth, a ninth and an eleventh interval
A major, a minor scale; a frantic modal sweat
A small sound for mankind; but a truly giant step
Each note slices through the eclectic beat-drop
Singing and whispering this post-modern be-bop
Multi-phonics scream, like controlled feedback
The seductive saxophone – this weapon of attack
The boundary is stretched, new ground broken
The holy saxophone has never thus spoken
And I pay homage, all my deepest respects
Go to the man who made those giant steps
Aug 22, 2011
Aug 22, 2011 at 9:25 AM UTC
I yell and I yell
enclosed by the air
and yet I can't feel it.
I want to hurt myself
just so I can feel something
So I try and I try
but not a drop of blood shed.
I shoot and I shoot
I clash my cymbals
I set myself on fire
I bomb the whole **** cloud.
Nothing moves.
I am stuck in an infinite circle of an alternate reality.
Isolated from life.
I sit and sob
in a cloud of white air.
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 9:44 AM UTC
symbol cymbals
synthesize size
symphony nymphs
syzygy gypsy
sympathy thesaurus
synonym nimble
symptom tomato
syrup up
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
Hypnotic music, joyous sounds surround
The fans, all entranced by the performers.
The drummer happily bashes and pounds
Everything he sees shaped like cylinders.
The hi-hat steadily keeps the rhythm,
The bass drum makes a thud, quite powerful.
The crowd can't help but nod along with him
As he makes these beats so insatiable.
The cymbals create such fearful crashes,
And his finely tuned snare shoots roaring pops
Hurtling towards the off-guard masses,
This manic madness just can't seem to stop!
What exactly does he have left to prove?
*He simply wants to see everyone groove!*
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 2:59 AM UTC
Relatives of dead convicts
with debauched faces
and curly headed sailors
sing morose melodies
to the wail of saxophones
screaming strings
clashing cymbals
and the rattle of kettle drums.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 4:55 AM UTC
O sing a new song, to our God above,
Avoid profane ones, 'tis for holy choir:
Let Israel sing song of holy love
To him that made them, with their hearts on fire:
Let Zion's
sons life up their voice, and sing
Carols and anthems to their heavenly king.
Let not your voice alone his praise forth tell,
But move withal, and praise him in the dance;
Cymbals and harps
, let them be tuned well,
'Tis he that doth the poor's estate advance:
Do this not only on the solemn days,
But on your secret beds you spirits raise.
O let the saints bear in their mouth his praise,
And a two-edged sword drawn in their hand,
Therewith for to revenge the former days,
Upon all nations, that their zeal withstand;
To bind their kings in chains of iron strong,
And manacle their nobles for their wrong.
Expect the time, for 'tis decreed in heaven,
Such honor shall unto his saints be given.
4.2k
1
Why did Blake say
'Sunflower weary of time'?
Every time I see them
they seem to say
Now! with a crash
of cymbals!
Very pleased
and positive
and absolutely delighting
in their own round brightness.
2
Sorry, Blake!
Now I see what you mean.
Storms and frost have battered
their bright delight
and though they are still upright
nothing could say dejection
more than their weary
disillusioned
hanging heads.
4.1k
Set the cheetahs on the loose
There's a thief out on the move
Underneath our legion's view
They have taken Cleopatra
Run run run, come back for my glory
Bring her back to me
Run run run, the crown of our pharaoh
The throne of our queen is empty
We'll run to the future
Shining like diamonds in a rocky world
A rocky, rocky world
Our skin like bronze and our hair like cashmere
As we march to rhythm
On the palace floor
Chandeliers inside the pyramid
Tremble from the force
Cymbals crash inside the pyramid
Voices fill up the halls
The jewel of Africa
What good is a jewel that ain't still precious?
How could you run off on me?
How could you run off on us?
You feel like God inside that gold
I found you laying down with Samson
And his full head of hair
Found my black queen Cleopatra
Bad dreams, Cleopatra
Remove her
Send the cheetahs to the tomb
Our war is over, our queen has met her doom
No more she lives no more serpent in her room
No more it has killed Cleopatra
Big sun coming strong through the motel blinds
Wake up to your girl for now, let's call her Cleopatra
I watch you fix your hair
Then put your ******* on in the mirror, Cleopatra
Then your lipstick, Cleopatra
Then your six-inch heels
Catch her
She's headed to the pyramid
She's working at the pyramid tonight
Working at the pyramid
Working at the pyramid tonight
Working at the pyramid
Working at the pyramid tonight
Working at the pyramid
Working at the pyramid tonight
Working at the pyramid
Working at the pyramid tonight
Pimping in my convos
Bubbles in my champagne
Let it be some jazz playing
Top floor motel suite twisting my cigars
Floor model TV with the VCR
Got rubies in my **** chain
Whip ain't got no gas tank
But it still got woodgrain
Got your girl working for me
Hit the strip and my bills paid
That keep my bills paid
Hit the strip and my bills paid
Keep a ***** bills paid
She's working at the pyramid tonight
You showed up after work I'm bathing your body
Touch you in places only I know
You're wet & you're warm just like our bathwater
Can we make love before you go
The way you say my name makes me feel like
I'm that *****
But I'm still unemployed
You say it's big but you take it
Ride cowgirl
But your love ain't free no more
But your love ain't free no more
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
Praise ye the Lord!
Praise God in His sanctuary;
praise Him in the firmament of His power!
Praise Him for His mighty acts;
Praise Him according to His excellent greatness!
Praise Him with the sound of the trumpet;
Praise Him with the psaltery and harp!
Praise Him with the timbrel and dance;
Praise Him with stringed instruments and organs!
Praise Him upon the loud cymbals;
Praise Him upon the high sounding cymbals!
Let everything that hath breath Praise the Lord!
Praise ye the Lord!
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
*When the whole world doubts you
And your heart says a resounding yes
Take out the Clash Cymbals to crash all doubts
Make your own music to drown the noise
Clashing cymbals make the right music
Clash and Bang, that upbeats the true spirit*
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
you let
the pills
flow
down
your neck
and wait.
wait for the life
to grow
and the
pain to
slow.
wait for
that feeling
when you
will know.
but certainty
is a story.
a distant
object
bobbing
across
the current.
and that
comfort
becomes an
absence
so deep it
resounds
like cymbals
in your
ears as you
sleep.
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 4:31 PM UTC
the church used my burning soul to light the candles for every service / my innocence floated away with the smoke from the censer / the past and present clashed like cymbals / and it hurt my ears.
time ran down the slippery slope of the hourglass / my vocal cords struggled to come together / oxygen left the air / and my flame was nearly extinguished.
so no / I will not give a cent / because I was the donation shared amongst everyone else / even as I burned.
no more.
Apr 16, 2022
Apr 16, 2022 at 7:16 PM UTC
Praise ye the Lord. Praise God
in his sanctuary: praise him in
the firmament of his power.
2 Praise him for his mighty acts:
praise him according to his excellent
greatness.
3 Praise him with the sound of the
trumpet: praise him with the psaltery
and harp.
4 Praise him with the timbrel and
dance: praise him with stringed
instruments and organs.
5 Praise him upon the loud
cymbals: praise him upon the high
sounding cymbals.
6 Let every thing that hath
breath praise the Lord. Praise ye the
Lord.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 10:41 AM UTC
I haven't any light, I mean it,
and I don't have a reason to help the nuns,
although the homeless mean so much to me,
I spit in their change-cups, and cringe at the smell of them.
The worst part really was the bats, though,
because I could hear them rustle into the night,
***** grimy wings,
I didn't ever see them.
I never will.
This is all a part of the electricity.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 4:42 PM UTC
We approached the counter, side by side.
I said, “Ladies first.”
And, with a trickle of a smile and just a bit of teeth, she said, “I’ll have a café breve.”
The words left her lips in a solid, confident tone, yet they brushed my ears like a whisper.
I must have ordered the same, because that is what I got.
And we sat down in the plush brown chairs and she let her amber hair free from its tight bun.
And we sat. And we spoke.
I spoke of nothingness, I’m sure.
For that is what I remember – nothing.
But she spoke of her dreams, her future plans, her summer plans, her favorite colors and why they were the prettiest.
She spoke of smaller things, like the weather, her chair and why it was so wobbly.
And though it was casual and carefree, I couldn't help but be bewildered by the beauty she bore.
The simple beauty that hides behind closed door and open-mouthed laughs.
And we did this all as we sipped our drinks, gulping down the vague design in the coffee and steamed milk.
And, setting down her mug, I noticed she’d left a smear of crimson on the edge.
And as I stared at the lipstick settled on the rim, I quietly took in the rest of our surroundings –
The frosted windows,
The scent of fresh coffee and pastries,
The lonely barista, who was currently changing the background music CD from electro to smooth jazz.
And as the music began again, so did she.
And the whisper of her voice was like the whisper of the cymbals,
Ringing in time to the beat of the song.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
the wind whispers to you in furious ways,
ominous notes, like a dusty violin
stenciling finality into the air.
the percussion
of foot-soldiers trembles the grass.
you have grown, my war-child,
from the days of ****** tea parties
to a diva guerrilla,
terrible and well-rehearsed,
your bulleted libretto close to your chest--
and as trumpets sound in the offing,
the curtain draws back.
AK-47, pizzicato--
gasoline breeds fire, incinerates woodwinds,
the wine of the coloratura soprano
melts into blood.
witch, ***** daughter of gunpowder,
bella contralto, your
deep and tremulous vibrato is a
grenade,
and as death crashes to a crescendo,
mortality in the tin frequency of cymbals--
the only armistice
is annihilation.
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
Psalm 150
1 Praise ye the Lord. Praise
God in his sanctuary: praise
him in the firmament of his
power.
2 Praise him for his mighty
acts: praise him according to his
excellent greatness.
3 Praise him with the sound of
the trumpet: praise him with the
psaltery and harp.
4 Praise him with the timbrel
and dance: praise him with
stringed instruments and organs.
5 Praise him upon the loud
cymbals: praise him upon the
high sounding cymbals.
6 Let every thing that hath
breath praise the Lord. Praise ye
the Lord.
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
Midnight.....
There is no sound in the forest -
only the phantom murmur
of the far wind
and the wind's shadow drifting
as smoke
through ebon branches; there a single star
glistens in the heart of night....
A star!
Look skyward now...
and see above...INFINITY
Vast and dark and deep
and endless....your heritage:
Silent clouds of stars,
Other worlds uncountable and other suns
beyond numbering
and realms of fire-mist and star-cities
as grains of sand....
drifting...
Across the void....
Across the gulf of night....
Across the endless rain of years....
Across the ages.
Listen!
Were you the star-born you should hear
That silent music of which the ancient sages spoke
Though in silent words...
Here then is our quest
and our world
and our Home.
Come with me now, Pilgrim of the stars,
For our time is upon us and our eyes
shall see the far country
and the shining cities of Infinity
which the wise men knew
in ages past, and shall know again
in the ages yet to be.
Look to the east....there shines
the Morning Star...soon shall the sunrise come...
We await the Dawn,
Rise, oh eternal light;
Awaken the World!
With trumpets and cymbals and harp and the sound
of glad song!
And now...
The clouds of night are rolled away;
Sing welcome to the Dawn
Rise, oh eternal light;
Awaken the World!
With trumpets and cymbals and harp and the sound
of glad song!
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
Lily pad clarinet
Prune flute Carrot orange pull
Appaloosa pattern fur coat cross a
Hot pink cello zip
Peridot cymbals
Neon tumbleweed drums
All cause I wanna know
What tacky sounds like.
Jan 15th, 2015
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
A huge crowd thronged the temple premises
Its vicinity, already bursting in color
With people in hundreds streaming in
The young and the old clad in festal attire
With fire in their hearts n' festive sheen in their eyes
Not driven by piety, mostly to enjoy the fanfare
Festoons decorated trees that lined the compound
Colorful lamps blinked everywhere
Sacred bells, chiming intermittent
At the auspicious hour, as devotional songs rent the air
The chief deity was brought out of the shrine
And was placed on the caparisoned elephant
Accompanied by pulsating percussion ensemble
The devotees cheered witnessing the majestic entourage
Within them the fervid spring of joy swelled
Colorful umbrellas were unfurled
Drawing synchronized patterns in the air
Under the glare and noise, the heat and sweat
Amid the tumultuous beat of trumpets
And the rhythmic sounding of cymbals
The crowd swayed in psychedelic lassitude
An army of hawkers had already set up shops
Each made it a time to earn some bucks
Selling knickknacks and goodies to tempt children
From ice creams to popcorn and colorful balloons
Children ran around licking cotton candies
Some enjoyed blowing up soap bubbles
And iridescent orbs landing softly on their hair and dress
With dusk fall, the ceremonious fire work began
The crowd stood aghast at the pyrotechnic display
Scintillating colors and confetti of sparks painted the sky
Shooting spears rose high and fluorescent rainbow colors
Came dancing down, fire wheels swiveled on the ground
Deadening roar of crackers and thunderous blast of *****
Tore the sky announcing the sleepy world;
‘It was once again festival time for the people to rejoice
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
Winter's edge flurries -
snowflakes converge,
a carpet of fox scavenged litter
re-emerging like
iced puddles of hubris.
Whilst The Christmas message is relayed
Rebecca erects a humming line
to keep away the crows and parquets
from her prized cabbage and kale.
but the threadbare sound is
reminiscent of cymbals,
carrying thoughts of a lost carnival.
She journeyed to the coast
and caught an amateur performance of the
"Seven Deadly Sins", in and out of situ.
The deserted beach, ghostly
yet littered with wicker creels
the fisherman their whispers silenced,
better console with tomorrow's wise
in hope of an epiphany.
Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 3:23 PM UTC
She stopped at the light
outside the Double Drop D in Cortez
and looked me over
I was day dreaming about a girl
with finger cymbals
between shows
Her top was down
and I could hear Neil Young
singing Cinnamon Girl
on the radio
...*i could be happy
the rest of my life..*
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 9:56 AM UTC
This is a psalm by my friend Mad Pastor Grovell
Praise the Lord with the sound of the trumpet!
Praise the Lord with the psaltry
(whatever on God's green earth that is!)
And with the harp while you are at it!
Praise the Lord with the tambourine
(another queer one!) and with dancing!
Praise the Lord with stringed instruments and electronic organs!
Praise the Lord on the loud cymbals and gongs
(and the high sounding cymbals too)!
Let every thing that breathes praise the Lord
(even midgets and the clinically obese and perverts)!
And that includes YOU - so get praising Him straight away!
Get down on your knees, blow your trumpet,
Rattle your silly tambourine like a mongo!
Clash your assorted cymbals and play with your *****
Sing songs and hymns and cries of adoration to the Heavens
And clap till your hands are bleeding with joy!
Be a one-man band of earhole-busting praise for the Lord!
Praise ye the Lord lest He smite thee totally ******* senseless!
Or else WATCH OUT FOR THE GOOD LORD
WILL BASH OUT YOUR ******* WORTHLESS BRAINS
FOR YOUR FILTHY SEX-SINS AND ALSO CONDEMN YOU
TO AN ETERNITY OF PASSIVE ****** IN HELL!
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 12:56 PM UTC
Bright lights shine a silhouette and show the glowing eyes of dark souls
in a frenzy of rapid motion i feel the pulsing of the bass drum the screaming of the cymbals and the gallop of the toms this is no energy you can escape from it creeps between the crack of every dream and the dark of every nightmare the animalistic ties you have will take you over until the drums stop and show is over
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC