[And let’s all get high striking the innocent drums… (source: goodmanlivingwell)]
The skin stretched taut
It then speaks of things beyond it
The artist grabs it with both arms
With the force of pleading
Strikes it across the face
He begs the drum to speak
The drum speaks then loftily
As if of its own accord
As if it had a choice
It cries out in a tune too high
The tighter the skin is stretched
The greater the pain it suffers
The louder and finer the cries
With masochistic ecstasy
We then hear these cries and are happy
We put the dance to our feet
And pride ourselves like connoisseurs
Of musical sadism
A primal form of art
Of which
We are all artists
And we delight in pain
Whether when inflicted on us
And we dance in self-pity
Or sweet vengeful bitterness
Or when others around us suffer
And we gather round the table
To feast on the delicious degradation of others’ misfortunes
We express an unknown sort of disgust or shock
At some scandal
Oh the thrill we feel all the way
When we make drums of others
[Even the innocent little kid is already being initiated into the art. (source: smithsonianmag.com)]
Carry your troop away
I want none of you
Don’t disturb this lonesome artist
Lounging out peacefully
On his rooftop
Where he has placed a mat
For him to lie stretched out skin-bare
Light-brown leather
Just another drum
But in the arms of a Creator
Kind and merciful unlike all these I see
And don’t you dare call me irritable
Just because I can’t dance to your sick tune.
_____________________________________________
BACKGROUND: Please, if I may very mildly say, I am not a fan of how ingeniously cruel we can be as humans when we delight in the suffering of people. Sadly, this does not exempt the seemingly nice ones at times when they have reacted in apparent horror at another’s misfortune. Meanwhile, underneath are all sorts of feelings and thoughts they would not be exactly proud of if shown clearly.
So, let none tag me along in these discussions. I’ll be sure to spoil the fun for you. Don’t worry, I won’t mind when you all turn your appetites towards the “misfit” in the comment thread, away from the true victims who need more from you than your clichéd expressions of mock shock, which seem to be ALL you would have to offer.
I Feel Shadows 
Where are you, Doc? What ails you? Tell me.
I am afraid I am fighting for time, for some creative space. Oh, and my inspiration is on a trip.
Thanks much, Sir Trent.
I hope you amble back and find the deep well where the good stuff lurks, Doc.
Thank you dearly, Sir Trent.
well played… like a good drum solo…
I am glad you enjoyed it.
Sincere apologies for my apparent absence.
It was more than an apparent absence…
Once again, you seem smarter than most people I know.
I do seem smarter…
And yet more proof!
I suppose
You do feel a need to re-emphasise that point with each response, don’t you?
All part of the act… HA!
An act of reality.
I have never seen that act.
Because you play it. Actors don’t get to watch the drama live.
That is a very good point.
because actors ARE the drama live – we all live our roles. 😉
Doc! you’re back. been lying around on the roof again, I see. great analogy, beating a drum, pounding the pain through our skin, and yes we all do, albeit some of us don’t wish to feel that way deep down, but still, even with our shock and sympathy and empathy, we are always just a bit glad ‘it’s not me.’ shameful, but I think it is a bit human. certainly not humane, so we don’t really deserve to be called human, but I think it harks back to a time when we were monkeys, and just glad to be alive! its the ones who visibly ‘relax’ when they hear others are hurting that you gotta watch out for!! 🙂
I am afraid I am singing same old tune -being pressed for enough time for writing.
Hmmm…
Hahahahaha!
Ha! But are we not all on a spectrum with people showing different degrees of reaction; and someone you could astutely read as being relaxed may not be so to me, and vice versa.
oh, I heard the anger, fire in your writing, and the despair, but I love that you write, or come up with your inspiration while lying around on your roof!! I’ve climbed up on mine a few times to take sunset pic’s but damn near killed myself trying to get back down again. haha it looks easy going up!
I see.
It’s a wonderful place to be addicted to.
hahahha! Oh dear! But when did that sort of experience ever stop you from trying something dangerous again?! Or, is this not the oldcatwoman who’d be on the hospital bed from cat-related allergies, surrounded on the bed by same villains? O please, don’t mind me -I want you alive.
well, I haven’t been able to go paragliding not once this year, so I guess I’m a total slacker! hehehe I did go hiking in Eastern Washington last week, climbed up some very unstable rocks to do some rockhounding because my friend was trying to kill herself in an avalanche and didn’t realize how unstable the rocks were…. luckily I managed to go up and back down without having to be airlifted out!! I’m a spider monkey at heart and love to rock climb! hehehe but that was enough excitement for a few weeks!! and haven’t ended up in the hospital since I remodeled my bedroom and killed all the black mold growing behind the walls! my house is really really old! so hopefully that will not be a repeat either!…but with me, Doc, you just never know what I’ll be doing next!!!!! live each day like it’s your last, I always say! we only go around once…. here! 🙂
It pays to be wild at heart, I’d say. Glad to hear this -that if any part of your body will give way first, it won’t be your heart. *huge smile*
sounds like beating of the proverbial war drum, entrance the people with doublespeak propaganda to turn brother against brother, divide an conquer. reducing human beings to our lowest common denominator, an unfeeling, unconscious collective monster. good poem doc, if you decide to visit America, stay out of FEMA camps!
Maddey!
I very much love that extra on war. Very apt injection into the concept.
Thanks. I will. Not.