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"drumroll" poems
*Italic drumroll... imperial cavalcade with Roman horns, eagle standards raised*; ♪ ♫♪♫ ♪♪♫♫♪♪♫♫♪♪♫♫♪ ALL HAIL ! Ye screen-fed sacrificial citizens, seething simpletons and volatile voters: attend now, with republican fervor, tempered by democratic zeal, to the golden-tongued orator of our epoch, gallant guardian of American greatness, avatar of avarice, the Jeffersonian gentleman, anointed autocrat and Sultan of Swell, windswept Wazir of Wonderful, emissary of towering eminence in empire, The Anti H-Rod: Donald J. TRUMP ! (Plebeians look up from their circus-bread for a second—) And may Our Sovereign Savior & Almighty God also bless his worthy opponent and adversary *HILLARY ("H-Rod")* (Patricians murmur, nod; a few salute)
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Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC
Of Debatable Importance
There's a turning point on my tongue when I realize who you really are. You appear to me in macaroni art, in fingerpaintings, in cracked iPhone screens. I dream you in refrigerator word magnets / I read you in my favorite novel from age 13 and cry about it. Your self-portrait is etched in my bottom-bowl bulimia at 2:07 AM. And guess what? (I'm not entirely convinced that you didn't come crafted from the sea, slimy and sultry and green trails or tails surfacing to hold hands and jigsaw your human form.) At night, I see lines of caterpillars leading from your belly button to be your matter. Excuse me? I am going through your life with a fine-toothed comb and knitting an afghan out of your DNA. Drumroll, please! / I've got it - You are 47 Autumns. You Are exactly as You Were.
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Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 10:43 PM UTC
In Which I Sleep Upside Down and Overcast
I've been rewriting our history on the ripped pages of my notebook with the cheap ink in my pen. I've long forgotten how we ended I've long forgotten all your goodbyes or how you stopped saying goodnight replacing them with farewells how you barely even whispered how your hand let go of mine how your smile disappeared in the back of my mind stuck in my memories imprinted in my brain. Don't worry, Love I've long forgotten these things Don't worry about my pain I've replaced this event with the tip of my pen Don't worry, Love I've forgotten all the details and only remember the story I've created I've replaced this memory with such an impossible fantasy in this story you held on in this story you kept your smile in this story you hugged me tight we had that drumroll before the happy end Instead of walking away you ran after me Instead of goodbye you said goodnight Because, Love, goodnight will always be different from goodbye a. gale
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Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
Goodbye
The magic in your eyes, The "make my knees weak" smile, The "my heart skipped a beat" moment. The "world stopped turning" for a while. That electric feeling, when our elbows touch, That comforting lie, "I've missed you so much" The heat of the moment, When my hand wraps around your waist, and I pull you close, with the other hand on your face, The "drumroll" leading, to the firework kiss, The warm embrace after, that always makes me wish, That if clocks could be broken, Then so would be time, And I wouldn't have to hurry, In this paradise of mine, and all these heavens, that begin with a hello, All disappear, and time begins to slow, and I try my hardest not to show you, but no matter how hard I try, The hell in hello, is when you say goodbye.
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Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
The Hell in Hello
~ Hand over heart *Hold on. Please hold on, Don't Fall in Love.* You know how it’ll sound. Love is a strong midnight coffee that will make your heart palpitate. A booming sound of drumroll beating causes sleepless nights over thinking. Elusive Dream of Love's awakening. . *Now Hold onto your heart And Listen,* . Listen to the whisper of aloneness. Remember, it’s your favorite music. A velvet blanket covering your body under the unfathomable calm night. Silence, isn’t it heaven to you? Now, let it be that way, *Don't Fall in Love. Please hold on, Hold on.* Hand over heart ~ ELUSIVE DREAM OF LOVE
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Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
Elusive Dream of Love
Your pacing pulse beats a drumroll in anticipation of the unknown Yet your soul remains silent in cries as an unborn Singing lullabies in cries up to the highest note Still you stand placid,as the calm of the eye in a storm Mutely you hope the transition to your dreams Is eternal separation from the real You rather find harmony in nyctophilia in the night because, Daily the sun's illumination reminds you of the light you miss in your life Your salty pillow know who you are. BUT you built a home in your mind..now you wore a smile,descended the heavens when you fed your subconscious with eternal light. It all sources of your smile. Now your pillow is dry.
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Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
The Loudest Silent Cry: The Unkown
Timeless rain, come carelessly, come scour the furrows in the land. You are most cathartic for the sky and drop from fumbling hands. Drumroll, drumroll - smiling, insist yourself in grass and wood and fences marked as Private. You are young snow but with ambition. A stormcloud’s in my head and you should know that the world is drenched and wailing.
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May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 6:42 PM UTC
Timeless rain, come carelessly
ta-da!!! the sun has risen, again and so it begins, this days descent into night i must raise my heavy head and join the racing rodents i get my joggers on with out alacrity as i know, from the get go i am only going to get a participation ribbon today another to add to the pile ta-f#cking-da!!! not a happy camper, me. ¤¤¤¤¤
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
drumroll please!
The air feels like rain again I can almost taste it – damp and crisp It’s something so familiar And I can’t shake off this déjà vu The sky is darker than his past Which only seems ironic now He kept his secrets buried so deep But they’re about to come crashing down He told me once that I was beautiful And I wonder now if it was ever true A smoke screen to hide behind A wrong turning on a carefully laid road I can hear a distinct rumble in my distance Almost a drumroll for his inevitability My deep breath teeters on the edge Of my own hesitation I am aware of the sound of my own breathing Though he stands almost eerily silent Entirely composed and arrogantly at ease With the vastness of all his indiscretion I’m unsure exactly how I knew But when the heavens finally let go I feel a certain comfort or even some relief Knowing I now have nothing left to fear And when the rain starts falling all around us I am inexplicably warm and dry While he is bathed in the fallout of every mistake he ever made I can only smile, content with the opportunity of another day.
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Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 10:18 AM UTC
Opportunity
The sky cried again today, it was sad and angry. I wonder, if it was supposed to flood the earth and **** all living. I wonder, if the raindrops are really tears of those, who cried today. I wonder, how many must have cried today, to make the grass smell like it showered. I wonder, if lightning is a photoshoot of the world, before it’s drowning. I wonder, who is going to look at the pictures taken today. I wonder, if thunder is the drumroll before the surprise. I wonder, if everyone feels the beat in their veins. I wonder, if the raindrops are afraid of landing on the leaves of the high trees. I wonder, if the trees ever look down at us and think of all the better ways they could rule this world. I wonder, if they ever scream at us, to stop ruining their earth. I wonder, why we take this world for granted and call it ours. I wonder, if we took this world from a better cause, to make the sky cry. I wonder if I am the only one to see this broken world in the rain and, I wonder, if I am the only one to hear the endless screams of pain, to see the tears of so many, covered up by an act of nature. I wonder, if humanity has survived longer than it should have. I wonder…
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May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
A Story of Rain
Love captures smiles deep within eyes, within hearts reflections spiral as mirrors expand views. Sparrow sing as footsteps dance at doorways ajar. love dictates in breeze as bells toll in steno-like heartbeats eyelids fluttering in drumroll in moments unfold like wind. Love inside dreamscape regenerates, awakens Oneness is realized.
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May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
Love Captures
You wallow in your soberless prison, Clouds of misrey surround you like cobwebs in a long forgotton castle, Your thoughts play the role of Judas better today than they did yesterday, You try to escape from you self imposed exile like a fly from a spiders web, But you're trapped, like a curious ****** by her first kiss. The drumroll of battle sounds in your head, Today, the boot must go on the other foot. (Breezy)
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
THE BOOT
floating backward on my back down a muddy river at a cloud's pace banked by willows & sweet clover with long branches of oaks stretching across to meet hot sunshine burning spots on my face forearms & stomach an invisible hand forcing my eyes to stay closed & projecting dancing pinwheels of curled peacock fire on my thin eyelids i can hear the echo voices of everyone on shore whirling in the soft wet part of my brain so awfully warbled by the water in my ears as i lay there with top water debris spurting playfully from my lips with a pinched smile carved between my cheeks thinking what a shame it'd be to drown no longer caressed by willow branches trailing across the surface to sink down under a blue sky during a cloud race into a quiet place where words no longer mean anything & all i can hear anyway is the profound hiss of a dying airbubble slipping away from my nose open my eyes to look i can see it escape & explode ascending into sunlight refracting just eight feet away how wonderful it is to drift down into the soft silk blanket of dark water with all the pain & piano music in the world trapped in my pounding heart as my friends dive bomb to save me the drumroll kicks in with the dramamine & sweet pear wine i had in a pack lunch to keep away the eager panic hunger it's accompanied by the soft indie plink & pluck of violin strings & someone in suspenders blowing a harmonica as the nothingness struggles to enfold me crawling over the shiny pores of my face while my friends peel back at it in layers by re-breathing their whiskey into my lungs beating my chest with their closed fists & blowing my nose into a t-shirt in the sand
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Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
Cloud Race
floating backward on my back down a muddy river at a cloud's pace banked by willows & sweet clover with long branches of oaks stretching across to meet hot sunshine burning spots on my face forearms & stomach an invisible hand forcing my eyes to stay closed & projecting dancing pinwheels of curled peacock fire on my thin eyelids i can hear the echo voices of everyone on shore whirling in the soft wet part of my brain so awfully warbled by the water in my ears as i lay there with top water debris spurting playfully from my lips with a pinched smile carved between my cheeks thinking what a shame it'd be to drown no longer caressed by willow branches trailing across the surface to sink down under a blue sky during a cloud race into a quiet place where words no longer mean anything & all i can hear anyway is the profound hiss of a dying airbubble slipping away from my nose open my eyes to look i can see it escape & explode ascending into sunlight refracting just eight feet away how wonderful it is to drift down into the soft silk blanket of dark water with all the pain & piano music in the world trapped in my pounding heart as my friends dive bomb to save me the drumroll kicks in with the dramamine & sweet pear wine i had in a pack lunch to keep away the eager panic hunger it's accompanied by the soft indie plink & pluck of violin strings & someone in suspenders blowing a harmonica as the nothingness struggles to enfold me crawling over the shiny pores of my face while my friends peel back at it in layers by re-breathing their whiskey into my lungs beating my chest with their closed fists & blowing my nose into a t-shirt in the sand
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Trusting you like this Feels like sharing one breath; The drumroll before the kiss. Your exhale becoming my inhale. Your forehead on mine. Our eyelashes grazing each other. Our proximity is electric and charged, but innocent and patient. Only taking what we are given,and Worshipping every broken piece like the Promises we made that beautiful day in November. I know we aren’t together, But this can’t just be friends. My heart is a canteen, carrying the entire ocean. It’s salty, and the tide is always high. The waves are where ships go to wreck. But when you saw it in its entirety, you recognized its depth. And you called it amazing. You said you would cherish it always. I want the lifeguard to reel you in and lock you out, I do not trust my current, you will be torn out to sea. But you said you’d always protect me. And the absurdity of that makes me want to believe you.
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Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 10:06 PM UTC
Seen
We don't pause for stars anymore not that they're less amazing, no, it's just knowing they'll be back. But do you ever hold something so tight because you know you'll miss them soon? You learn that all you can do is be in that memory before trying not to forget everything about it. We learn the hard way that what makes a moment precious is that it's always fleeting from our fingertips, being chased by the next thing that's going to happen. It is always only somebody's turn to smile, before it is somebody else's. One day Ted knew Victoria's soul—what makes her cry, the drumroll before the kiss and what she thinks about cats, all before they become nothing but a part of each other's past; two people who only shared the same good memory before.
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Dec 6, 2020
Dec 6, 2020 at 11:57 AM UTC
Nothing good happens after 2 A.M.
Children’s voices crying out and laughing loud and clear Like an orchestra of sound for everyone to hear The bass starts first, parental leave gives go ahead to play The marching beat as kids go forth and out into the day A trumpet hail for company is raised from door to door The flute returns, the oboe too accompanied by more The fun begins on strings and swings go back and forth with speed All cares and woes are flung away percussion takes the lead A drumroll raises up the stakes a dangerous new move Chromatic scales, gymnastic fails the cymbal’s sharp reprove The roundabout reveals the chorus repeating the refrain The highs, the lows and all between All voices sing again The seesaw conversation starts bassoons begin up high The oboes and an English horn ascend into the sky A far away note penetrates the happy symphony A lone voice trills with increased speed and calls out ‘Time for Tea’ As kids go home the conductor Bows and takes his leave The park is left in quietness notes floating in the breeze
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 7:41 AM UTC
The Playground
Stewing in his cave Never alone said the bad one He wept at his life, incomplete Over a hill in the distance went the sun Resting headaches on the bloodred horizon Awaken the bad one Stop dreaming bad one Far away Never alone said the bad one Caressing the distance with his watery eyes Peeling the scars with his gritted teeth Warming the bones Never alone Oh Never alone Said the bad one Where have they gone? A flicker behind him A memory An unquenchable thirst Chasing a the end of a dying drumroll Never alone said the bad one
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Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
Cope
It is cool, dry and very early on this crisp September morn. The General’s orders were quite succinct: This man must die at dawn. We’ve erected here a gallows On the street for all to see: This man will die a traitor’s death For what he calls” Liberty” With the Parson in attendance He is brought here, grave and pale, This spy posed as a teacher His name is Nathan Hale. I placed the noose around his neck The knot was tightly wound The condemned was then allowed to speak before the drums would sound. “The cause for which i am dying for i did not take up in an idle moment i was born it as are all my countrymen if the belief in man’s right to freedom is held on any other place on earth i have not heard of it i am proud to have lived in a country where freedom is a reality living it has been my privlege to fight for it in death i shall hold it forever if i were to be born a thousand times i would choose no other life but service to American freedom i have only one sorrow i only regret that i have but one life to loose for my country” At that, I heard the drumroll sound. My captain gave a nod. I pushed the brave young traitor to his meeting with his God. We left him hanging several days, As a lesson to the town Of the fate awaiting traitors Who take arms against the crown. At dusk last night we cut him down When no one was around And laid him in an unmarked grave which never will be found.
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Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 9:22 AM UTC
REMEMBER: 09_22_1776
What do you know Didn’t work out for you and Joe What can I say Did I mention he was gay Still, what about you and Di Brought a tear to a glass eye It was your mum who asked the question What’s a Bi ,,,,, Had to laugh, my oh my Still, these things are sent to try us Sorry about Gus, and the bus Just not fare, oops sorry, meant fair Your mother tells me you’ve met the one Drumroll please, he’s Japanese Strange name though, Harry Okay just got an update, Hara Kari What are you doing with these guys, never mind Di Your mum says its been a week with the Greek I’m over the moon Spoke too soon Fell off his horse Was it wooden I’m hearing you’re in Finland with some geyser called Stan Already I’m thinking, poor man Okay, your mum’s going on about a bear Now Stan’s no longer there It’s a nightmare Where will it end What, you’ve found a friend Setting a new trend Well, now I feel at ease You’re kidding, deadly disease Your mum says you want to try again *** have you gone insane I’m heading for the hills Taking pills Throwing myself under a train Missed the bus Playing Russian roulette Oh no, I've just realised This is how it all begun You've won.
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Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
***
Eventide had blushed listless. Its once slick pink lips chapped filmy white until faded darkness claimed the screen. Crouching shelf clouds growl. The distinction between cloud and breath is long lost. Bedroom-jailed for pre-teen misdeeds, I break out to watch the sky. My slack-jawed shutter yawns wide enough for a grateful, lithe-graceful, exit. I land dully on dust-crusted, dinner roll earth, too dry to crunch. Each damp footfall collects another coating of soft, fine flour, congealing into ghostly pedicure foam. Outside is airless, closer than my detention. There is no freshing comfort here. As the prescient cumulus towers, the earth and I expect. We are storm-primed, desperate for the great release. We sit torrent-wired, tongues out to taste the fat rain drops. Our tardy Robin Hood will come to steal the pressing moisture from the air and send it groundward. We are alert for his redistribution. His deeds will turn flour puffs to glueing paste, and free wheezing chests in sweet, wet, relief. Low thunder is our drumroll with intermittent cymbal crashes. We wait for the splashes in slick, fuggy, discomfort. The earth is waiting to breathe, and so am I.
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Oct 23, 2024
Oct 23, 2024 at 9:18 PM UTC
Summer thunderstorm asthma
The first rays of watery light The birds strike up a chorus And the flowers tilt their faces towards the sky. Little cherubs in their cots Roll plump fists over sleepy eyes. Dreams pack their bags ready to depart And stars blow kisses towards An iminent exit. The world holds its breath In eager anticipation. The sun, in all its blazing glory Announces the dawning of a new day A day full of hope A day full of love A day full A day. All that's missing is the drum roll
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
Drumroll
In the dim light of the street lamps On a warm fall night We spoke until we were spinning On the wonder Of how this hasn’t happened yet Laughing until our faces hurt Over everything and nothing at all Passing back and forth Stories of past adventures And perhaps we’ve told them before But this time seems different There’s a spark in the air Or maybe a gentle breeze Either way we inch closer Until we’re inches apart Knowing this can’t happen But enjoying the drumroll Remembering That we’re in the company of others We sigh secretly Not here Not now But maybe someday
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 3:47 AM UTC
Untitled
does the air smell fresh at the root of all histories where rhythm and heart beat still merged as a pulse from the core of the earth and the sun is closer to the heart of all things life giving and dangerous warm and eternal in the face of a fly with a universe inside does your heart sing when the foot kisses the dirt that nourished your tree do you swirl with the drumroll and discover your right to be free?
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Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 1:19 PM UTC
At the root
I escape ! The eyes close, My brain, a barn on fire Burning; numb the sore Sweat, tracing it's track Swoop, the drool flows Heaviness in the head, Flash, ran the fly across Light sways tumultuous, Drumroll; a fleeting close Lucid acid dreams, Sweet almonds, Thought of you. And suddenly nothing.
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Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 2:57 PM UTC
On Sleeping