Poems about drum
But, Were Saved
to him, it would be death 
one and one are one 
if you remember, and were saved 
and now you've littered all the east
till love that was and love too best to be 
so soon to be a child no more 
i shall but drink the more!
and so i bear it big about
i asked no other thing 
some things that fly there be 
but, were it two 
more hands to hold these are but two 
the drums don't follow me with tunes 
so short way off it seems 
their going is not 
But Just The Little Bird Would Not Dissent
the little bird would not dissent
they put me in the closet 
but just the primer to a life
it is as if a hundred drums
The Grant To Own It Touch It Touch
just him not me 
with just the grant to do 
to own it touch it 
without a glance my way 
the drums don't follow me with tunes 
some know him whom we knew 
those who begin today 
to lives that stand alone 
and we we placed the hair 
"and i for truth themself are one 
include us as they go 
the way ourself, must come 
to think just how the fire will burn 
here to light measure, move the feet
For Doubt, That I Got So I Should
i'll tell thee all how bald it grew 
and what itself, will say to me 
for doubt, that i should know the sound 
i got so i could stir the box 
the earth has seemed to me a drum,
nor this behooveth me,
for that was thine, before 
if things were opposite and me
they cannot take me any more!
you are sure there's such a person
One Need Not Be Done
continual upon me 
as grains upon a shore 
one need not be a house 
the earth has seemed to me a drum,
himself has but to will
even through them this
to him to live was doom 
my need of thee be done 
meek let it be too proud for pride 
Forever Might Be Short, I Dared Not Open,
i dared not open, lest a face
and told him what i'd like, today,
if joy to put my piece away
when was it can you tell 
god does it every day 
as you do the sun 
the drums don't follow me with tunes 
forever might be short, i thought to show 
"but i have chosen them!"
don't you know me?
why do they shut me out of heaven?
it struck me every day 
it is occasionally 
the shapes though were similar 
The Advantages It Has, So Long And So
to drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs
but the black spread like black death on the ground, 
through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
the advantages it has, so long and narrow,
not yet the little dotted in me seek,
they cannot look in deep,
for the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane,
and so we went with pail and can
where someone used to climb and crawl
here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
He Calls On Stone,
they make us cringe for metal-point on stone,
on through the watching for that early birth
to drum on the floor with scurrying hoofs
and tripped the body, shot the spirit on
years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
and the nature of time and space,
the spoils of the dead,
then the rain stopped and the blowing,
kicking his way down through the air to the ground,
he calls on change through the violence of the elements,
with the glittering things,
and the awe passes wonder then,
and the world had found new terms of worth,
more blameless in the sense of being less