Constant rhythm shared

Prevailing sou’ westerly blows
across this grey-green sea
but the sunshine warm, encourages
so I’m content to be
Staying here throughout the day
to watch the sea out there
as white-capped waves comes into shore
with constant rhythm shared

©Jemverse

 

The dance, the drum

Sometimes when no one is watching
I will dance around my name
with a loud drum always banging
which never sound the same
Yes, it’s always rhythmic
but the pattern’s one of change
Its signature and syntax
quite often rearranged

Synonymous with freedom
My name just like my drum
is one that’s good to dance to
for me and everyone
So as life brings me the rhythm
likewise I sam set free
and the dancing it continues
unequivocally

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics (the drum in the rear of the picture – the one with a pink boa – is mine with me playing it. A bottom surdo as a part of a mass ‘Encontro’ in Brighton back in 2001).

Drum

The wooden floors vibrated
from the sound of many drums
Rhythm everywhere around
enjoyed by everyone
And I danced to special timbre
pulsated by the beat
from heart and soul and head and hands
right down to my feet

©Jemverse

Photo – from Jemverse on Instagram, April 2018 – Jempics

Rhythm of the rails

Rhythm of the rails
strikes a resonant chord
Music for the morning
and the commuter hoard
Newspapers folded
Tablets fired up
with caffeine boosters
from paper cup
Gathering momentum
into the Weald
Heading for London
through Sussex field

Distorted, the tannoy
every once in a while
interrupts with a word
for a frown or a smile
And cocooned within
the journey begun
We listen and roll
to the clatter and thrum
But the words like the rhythm
(if only they knew)
is only heard here
by the still awake few

For this is eclectic
ethereal, rare
with the tune heard only
by those with a care
Rhythm of rails though
has a place in my heart
for I’m attuned to the music
which I heard from the start
And it soothes as I listen
and tap along to the beat
with the clatter and thrum
from my window seat

©Jemverse

 

Writing at night

In the small hours when
silence is my company
And my pen scribbles words
as they flow fancy free
The verse and the rhyme
to the page come with ease
So this is the time that
the poet will seize

My craft in the making
no distraction to cast
The silence consuming
the prose firm and fast
These are moments to cherish
to have and to hold
The words captured here
more precious than gold

©Jemverse

 

Lyrical

I hear a rhythm deep inside my head
and the words just seem to flow
Mostly moving there in time
sometimes a little slow

It’s rather like a beating drum
repeating patterns heard
With me there as the drummer
turning rhythm into word

Lyrical, the magic flows
words dance to rhythmic beat
Crafted by the poet’s hand
until they are complete

©Jemverse

Day 12 of the ‘Blogging from A-Z challenge

The Music

Back lit through the dry-ice swirl
the player comes to fore
his nimble fingers on the frets
the crowd cries out for more

The singer steps up to the mic
narration in the song
the scene is set, the story told
the crowd sings loud along

The rhythm pounds, the bass is felt
the lights pulsate and shine
the ambience is magical
the crowd claps there in time

The music as it should be heard
and lived and felt and seen
our heroes up there on the stage
the crowd lives every dream

©Jemverse

The walking to work song

With reflections in puddles
as I’m walking along
the timbre of my thoughts
falling naturally to song
the rhythm of the world
helps me hum a little ditty
as it’s mirrored down there at my feet
looking really pretty

It’s a walking to work song
with contented frame of mind
looking forward to the pleasures
that I know the day will find.
The rain acts as percussion
drumming at my feet
with the song just like the puddles
mirroring the beat

©Jemverse

Rhythmic (chained haiku)

Rhythmic, the sea moves
Back and forth across the beach
Waves upon the shore

Rhythmic, the waves move
Back and forth across the sea
Breaking on the beach

Rhythmic, the beach beats
As a drum upon the shore
Music from the sea

©Jemverse

Leaves falling

Today there are leaves falling
It is time for fleeces
and hot cocoa and open fires
Long walks in crisp air with
a quickening stride
and fleeting looks
Soon there’ll be clouds
as breath escapes in silent
sharp whispers and
mittened hands clap out
the beat and rhythm
of a creeping cold
But not today
Today there are leaves falling

©Jemverse

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