PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Drone, clink. Buzz, drip.

Whine, whir, click.

Knock, bang, slam, zip.

Slide, scratch, grit.



Rhythms running rampantly rejoice to hear the sound

of all the instruments of noise gathering around

to play for us a symphony, a cacophonous dirge

rousing us from doldrum dreams to fill us with the urge.

Some will smolder sullenly, snarling at the choir

of cracks and cricks and stomps and beeps with murderous desire,

while others lay obliviously tuning out the din,

and many try to overcome the voices from within.



Drone, clink. Buzz, drip.

Whine, whir, click.

Knock, bang, slam, zip.

Slide, scratch, grit.



Timbers tempting temperaments to flare, they only mean

to do what they were made to do, or happen by routine.

I for one will let them write a song inside my mind

to join my dreams, or consciously to let them be combined,

quarreling quietly and quaking into song,

a gentle lilt that carries on and plays along

with every thought that dances deftly on its toes,

inviting friends to join the waltz, and so it goes:



Drone, clink. Buzz, drip.

Whine, whir, click.

Knock, bang, slam, zip.

Slide, scratch, grit.