Pulmonary Drum Machine

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
My heart wrote a poem about itself.

Submitted: August 14, 2017

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Submitted: August 14, 2017

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High hat atop tasking away

kick drum below thumping

I play 

Snare drum ensnared

encapsulating paradiddles  

symmetry 

Ride tapping away

down the road of riddles

counting out the measure 

ticking 

I thump and pump

carry then unload

my crimson treasure

into your body explodes

tingly and tickling

I open and ingest

pulling my reason back in 

  letting go of the rest

thick and thin 

I rest and pause

working harder by your cause 

thumping away

healing all scars

Sometimes I can be heard when emotions run high

like that of a high hat

  tapping away on the ride 

Sometimes I am silent

like counting numbers in the air

waiting for the moment

coming in with flair 

Idiosyncratic

syncopated riff 

more human than I should be

I am but a gift

that no one hopes to ever open 

a secret time keeper 

I keep you calm

in reserved moments 

colossal yet meeker

  able to be held   

all within ones hand

you keep me from falling

I will help you stand

Your tolerance for my capabilities 

exceeds that which I can do

but I try anyways

always seemingly just enough

to help

see you through

one beat at a time

rhythmic like a screw

pulsating in all of your limbs

I am your heart

a drum machine

allowing you to exist

trading crime

for crime

The one who gives you love

waiting for mine

with breath

 

 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2017 Dr. Acula . All rights reserved.

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