Ode To Village
Ode to Village
Whistling voice of the cuckoo bird,
Sacred scene in muddy attire,
Gong chant with its croaky voice,
And Ayangalu beating the bygone drum..
Market women dancing to the ryhme of drum,
Home we go,
With our hoe dangling on our shoulders,
Lark welcoming our breezing air,
Heap celebrating many years of slavery,
Children playing with their morose pant,
Agbegilodo, the tree cutter,
Prying on the naked canopy of ageless trees...
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Red Drum
The red drum beats
when every other drum stops beating
every soul dance to the rhythm of life
from the pulsating ethos of the red drum
the red drum not only beats
when you listen, the red drum is talking
every stony heart has a sheath for a knife
from a gush on the tempo of the red drum
the red drum by nature is sexy
when your heart flutter and in frenzy
every stolen glance from your heartthrob
from the blushes irrigated by the red drum
the red drum is jealous and vindictive
when retrospect’s stab is aggressive
every soft spot, love and pardon flee
from dirges the red drum goes on spree
the red drum you should know is the heart
when in our short lives destiny plays its part
every promise given not to stray our drumsticks
from where we are identified as God’s handpicks
poem by Dela Bobobee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beat
Drum, drum, hear the drum
beating its beat
for what's to come.
It beats like your heart
a steady boom.
It slows sometimes
and then will resume.
And when the drum beats
can't be heard
and your heart no longer
can be stirred,
the silence reaches where you are
because the drum beat
is too far.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Peace Women Drum On Their Peace Drums
The Peace Women drum on their peace drums in hope that the war men may hear
The war men who wage war on others the influential bullies who live far from here
The bullies who wage their so called war on terror who themselves are responsible for brutal acts of shame
Yet the bombing and murdering continues despite the blame and counter blame.
The Peace Women drum on their peace drums and they sing in the sunlight of day
In hope the winds their peaceful message will carry the power of thought powerful they say
They drum for peace amongst Humankind and for an end to violence everywhere
The poor in war zones those who suffer and they drum for a World that's more fair.
The Peace Women marvellous people let's hope in their quest they succeed
For a peaceful and a better World their energy something we need
They drum and sing for the murdered war children and the mothers who mourn their loss
Their burden of sorrow is heavy they need help to shoulder their cross.
The Peace Women drum on their peace drums they are putting their message out there
Their message that may enlighten peace wreckers and their damaged souls may repair
They drum and sing in the park in the sunshine in the cool shadow of the trees
And their message of peace it is carried away in the freshening breeze
poem by Francis Duggan
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Can You Hear It
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
I like that beat as it comes along.
It’s the same beat and the same tune,
we all know it’ll be here soon.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
fast or slow it’s a catchy song.
I kind of look forward to its day
and it's a shame when it goes away.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
It's getting closer and it won’t be long.
At last it's coming down our street
with its catchy drumming beat.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
it's so simple I can’t go wrong.
It's getting louder as it comes near,
the people watching give it a cheer.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
the beat’s blasting out loud and strong.
The man inside this sweeping machine
sings as he works to keep the streets clean.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
the sounds are fading as it goes along.
But it's nice to know as he sweeps the curb,
his drum, drum, tipi tap, tong, has the final word.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Sunday Morning - VII
Supple and turbulent, a ring of men
Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn
Their boisterous devotion to the sun,
Not as a god, but as a god might be,
Naked among them, like a savage source.
Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,
Out of their blood, returning to the sky;
And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,
The windy lake wherein their lord delights,
The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,
That choir among themselves long afterward.
They shall know well the heavenly fellowship
Of men that perish and of summer morn.
And whence they came and whither they shall go
The dew upon their feet shall manifest.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Little Drummer Girl
To me it seems like Christmas is lost
'Cuz it's not about celebrating anymore
It's just about giving to receive
And the illest thing to me about the little drummer boy
Or the little drummer girl in my case, I mean
Is that all that Shorty had was her drum, that's it
And through her drum, she gave Jesus her soul
There ain't no amount of riches that could ever amount to that
You know what I'm sayin'?
Ba dee ah, ba dee ah
Come on, they told me
A new born king to see
Our finest gifts we bring to lay before the king
So here we come
Oh, ra pum pum pum pum
Baby Jesus, I am a poor girl too
I have no gift to bring
That's fit to give a king
Shall I play for you on my drum?
Mary nodded
The ox and lamb kept time
I played my drum for Him
I played my best for Him
Then he smiled at me, me and my drum
Me and my drum
Rum pum pum pum
Pa rum pum pum pum
Pa rum pum pum pum (oh yeah)
Pa rum pum pum pum (oh)
Pa rum pum pum pum
Pa rum pum pum pum (come on they told me)
Pa rum pum pum pum (a new born king to see)
Pa rum pum pum pum (can I play my drum for him)
Pa rum pum pum pum
song performed by by Alicia Keys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Drummer Boy (feat. Ashlee Simpson)
(duet with Ashlee Simpson)
Come they told me, pa rum pa pum pum
Our newborn King to see, pa rum pa pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pa pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pa pum pum,
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum,
So to honor Him, pa rum pa pum pum,
When we come...
Little Baby, pa rum pa pum pum
I am a poor boy too, pa rum pa pum pum
I have no gift to bring, pa rum pa pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pa pum pum,
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum,
Shall I play for you, pa rum pa pum pum,
On my drum?...
Mary nodded, pa rum pa pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pa pum pum
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pa pum pum
I played my best for Him, pa rum pa pum pum
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum
Then He smiled at me, pa rum pa pum pum
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Drummer Boy
Come they told me, pa rum pa pum pum
Our newborn King to see, pa rum pa pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pa pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pa pum pum,
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum,
So to honor Him, pa rum pa pum pum,
When we come...
Little Baby, pa rum pa pum pum
I am a poor boy too, pa rum pa pum pum
I have no gift to bring, pa rum pa pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pa pum pum,
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum,
Shall I play for you, pa rum pa pum pum,
On my drum?...
Mary nodded, pa rum pa pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pa pum pum
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pa pum pum
I played my best for Him, pa rum pa pum pum
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum
Then He smiled at me, pa rum pa pum pum
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Drummer Boy
Come they told me our pa ra pa pum pum a newborn King to see pa ra pa pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring pa ra pa pum pum to lay before the King pa ra pa pum pum
Ra pa pum pum ra pa pum pum ra pa pum pum
So to honor him pa ra pa pum pum when we come
Little baby pa ra pa pum pum I am a poor boy too pa ra pa pum pum
I have no gift to bring pa ra pa pum pum that's fit to give a King pa ra pa pum pum
Ra pa pum pum ra pa pam pam ra pa pum pum
Oh shall I play for you pa ra pa pum pum on my drum
(Mary nodded yes pa ra pa pum pum the ox and lamb kept time pa ra pa pum pum
I played my drum for him pa ra pa pum pum
I played my best for him pa ra pa pum pum
Ra pa pum pum ra pa pum pum ra pa pum pum)
Then he smiled at me pa ra pa pum pum me and my drum
Me and my drum me and my drum I played for him on my drum on my drum
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Drummer Boy
Come they told me
Pa rum pum pum pum
A new born king to see,
Pa rum pum pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring
Pa rum pum pum pum
To lay before the king
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
So to honor him
Pa rum pum pum pum,
When we come.
Little baby
Pa rum pum pum pum
I am a poor boy too,
Pa rum pum pum pum
I have no gift to bring
Pa rum pum pum pum
Thats fit to give our king
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Shall I play for you!
Pa rum pum pum
On my drum.
Mary nodded
Pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time
Pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for him
Pa rum pum pum
I played my best for him
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Then he smiled at me
Pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.
Mary nodded
Pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time
Pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for him
Pa rum pum pum
I played my best for him
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Then he smiled at me
Pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum
Me and my drum
Me and my drum
Me and my drum
Me and my drum
Me and my drum
Me and my drum
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stare into The Eyes
As i stare deep into your eye.
My soul is filled with joy.
My heart starts pounding like a beatting drum.
And my soul feels like dancing.
It dances to the beat of the drum.
Its is like a fire inside.
That just wants me you to be close.
The fire is just set of by the sound of your voice.
This fire isn't no normal fire.
Its a fire that belongs there.
The fire being Joy.
Happiness.
And peace.
poem by Tyler Anhorn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bang A Drum
I went to see the preacher
To teach me how to pray
He looked at me and smiled
Then the preacher turned away
He said if you want to tell him something
You ain't gotta fold your hands
Say it with your heart
Your soul and believe it
And I'd say amen
Bang a drum for the sinners
Bang a drum for the sins
Bang a drum for the losers
And those who win
Bang a drum bang it loudly
Or as soft as you need
Bang a drum for yourself son
And a drum for me
I called upon my brother just the
Other day
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cuckoo
That's the cuckoo, you say. I cannot hear it.
When last I heard it I cannot recall; but I know
Too well the year when first I failed to hear it -
It was drowned by my man groaning out to his sheep 'Ho! Ho!'
Ten times with an angry voice he shouted
'Ho! Ho!' but not in anger, for that was his way.
He died that Summer, and that is how I remember
The cuckoo calling, the children listening, and me saying 'Nay'.
And now, as you said, 'There it is', I was hearing
Not the cuckoo at all, but my man's 'Ho! Ho!' instead.
And I think that even if I could lose my deafness
The cuckoo's note would be drowned by the voice of my dead.
poem by Edward Thomas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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River Roads
Let the crows go by hawking their caw and caw.
They have been swimming in midnights of coal mines somewhere.
Let 'em hawk their caw and caw.
Let the woodpecker drum and drum on a hickory stump.
He has been swimming in red and blue pools somewhere hundreds of years
And the blue has gone to his wings and the red has gone to his head.
Let his red head drum and drum.
Let the dark pools hold the birds in a looking-glass.
And if the pool wishes, let it shiver to the blur of many wings, old swimmers from old places.
Let the redwing streak a line of vermillion on the green wood lines.
And the mist along the river fix its purple in lines of a woman's shawl on lazy shoulders.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Cuckoo Clock
We knew it must have been late
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We had no time to wait
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I went to light the fireplace
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I planned it all this way, and
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I snuggled close to her
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Her heart began to purr
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I held my breath inside, and then
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I put my arms around her
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I put that birdie away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
His cuckoo was gone to stay
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We both apologized for why
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Forgave that doggone cuckoo
I went back to her side
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I had to swallow my pride
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
The fire had almost died away
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just got situated
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
I took that clock apart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
I broke the cuckoos heart
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
Hell never bother us again
(tick-tock, tick-tock)
We just forgot about him
(tick-tock)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo (go away silly bird)
Cuckoo, cuckoo
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mystic And The Realist
in his poem 'To the Cuckoo' Wordsworth described the bird as a mysterious thing
As if a bird's voice without a bird out of nowhere did sing
As he told he searched for the bird on bush and sky and tree
And yet that voice to him remained as a great mystery.
John Clare the poet from Helpston where he lived when he was young
Once got so close to the cuckoo that he even see her tongue
A leading student of Nature's ways Nature he did not mystify
He never told of searching for a mysterious bird in bush and tree and sky.
Poor John Clare had a mental illness by life he was given a raw deal
But he did see Nature for what she is he see Nature as real
The birds and animals that lived around him he intimately knew
And to the reality of Nature till death he remained true.
The Mystic and the Realist they see things differently
What was a real bird to one to the other was a mystery
What makes us all interesting is that we are more different even than we realize
And we see the World around us through very different eyes.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On A Morning In Late September
Above the sunlit paddock just like a small speck in the sky
The little brown skylark is carolling as up to the high clouds he fly
On a beautiful morning in September approaching the prime of the Spring
On bushes and trees all around me the nesting birds whistle and sing.
Each species of bird distinctive by their voice Nature is a marvellous thing
The skylark to proclaim his borders is obliged to take to the wing
In a tussock of grass quite well hidden her eggs kept warm by the heat of her breast
Incubating the next generation his partner she sits in her nest.
A small mob of kangaroos hop through the paddock to the scrub dotted with trees nearby
Away from prying eyes they feel safer their privacy they too enjoy
They stay in cover till twilight and as night fall nears they venture out
And under the cover of darkness they feed and go on hop about.
On a morning in late September the lark o'er the paddock in song
Even by his voice he is distinctive a bird one can never get wrong
And kangaroos hopping to cover they are not often seen by day
Amongst the scrub surrounded by gums and wattles hidden from prying eyes in safety they lay.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cuckoo in the Pear-Tree
The Cuckoo sat in the old pear-tree,
Cuckoo!
Raining or snowing, nought cared he.
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo, nought cared he.
The Cuckoo flew over a housetop high.
Cuckoo!
"Dear, are you at home, for here am I?
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo, here am I."
"I dare not open the door to you.
Cuckoo!
Perhaps you are not the right cuckoo?
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cukoo, the right Cuckoo!"
"I am the right Cuckoo, the proper one.
Cuckoo!
For I am my father's only son,
Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo, his only son."
"If you are your father's only son -
Cuckoo!
The bobbin pull tightly,
Come through the door lightly -
Cuckoo!
"If you are your father's only son -
Cuckoo!
It must be you, the only one -
Cuckoo, cuckoo, my own Cuckoo!
Cuckoo!"
poem by William Brighty Rands
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In the Vale of Llangollen
In the fields and the lanes again!
There's a bird that sings in my ear
Messages, messages;
The green cool song that I long to hear.
It pipes to me out of a tree
Messages, messages;
This is the voice of the sunshine,
This is the voice of grass and the trees.
It is the joy of Earth
Out of the heaven of the trees:
The voice of a bird in the sunshine singing me
Messages, messages.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prelude
BY sunny market-place and street
Wherever I go my drum I beat,
And wherever I go in my coat of red
The ribbons flutter about my head.
I seek recruits for wars to come -
For slaughterless wars I beat the drum,
And the shilling I give to each new ally
Is hope to live and courage to die.
I know that new recruits shall come
Wherever I beat the sounding drum,
Till the roar of the march by country and town
Shall shake the tottering Dagons down.
For I was objectless as they
And loitering idly day by day;
But whenever I heard the recruiters come,
I left my all to follow the drum.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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