Poetry Forum

I sit down at the drums.
The blister on my thumb swells,
swells with the echo of chainsaws,
snapping trees,
flattened crops -
the realization that plastic beads
can only bounce so high,
so tensely.

How I wish my arms were longer,
gnarled and twist-worthy.
How I wish my ankles could wrap around
your sounds
made of bullet rounds on random surfaces.

Could I ever match you?
Could I stomp my boot into the dirt so hard
my sole came off?
Could I ever trample barehanded
standing on my hands,
rolling on a giant drumhead
of dark glass?

The blister on my thumb cracks open
every time I imitate you.

How I wish addiction was no such thing,
controllable like physics.





Original:

The blister on my thumb swells.
It grows with the echo of chainsaws, snapping trees, flattened crops -
realization that plastic beads can only bounce so high,
so tensely.

How I wish my arms were longer,
gnarled and twist-worthy.
How I wish my ankles could wrap around
sounds made of bullet rounds on random surfaces.

But could I ever stomp my boot into the dirt so hard
my sole came off? Could I ever trample barehanded
standing on my head, rolling on a giant drumhead
of dark glass?

The blister on my thumb cracks open in response.
It grows with hammer claws, natural laws, recording flaws.

How I wish addiction was no such thing,
controllable like physics.

I liked the tone of this - after reading the first few lines I found myself hoping it continued in that way, since it seemed to immediately settle into its own rythmn.

I found I got a bit lost in stanzas 2 and 3, though, more with the images and trying to work out what was going on. Maybe the clue's in the title? - I didn't know if that was significant.

Loved the last two lines.

I'm with Lemur on this one. The language and the images catch and hold the imagination immediately, but exactly what it's about I'm not sure.
How did it hit me: first of all, the title - who is John Bonham and does the fact that the poem is 'to him' make a difference - am I expected to know him?
Swelling blister on thumb - most likely whacked by a hammer.
Chain saws, snapping trees . . . forestry work?
Suddenly we have plastic beads, a big leap from the lumberjackery.

An intriguing second stanza, great ideas and images. Love the last line.

Third stanza; 'trample barehanded' what a wonderful expression to convey the idea.

'The blister on my thumb cracks open in response'. I wondered in response to what . . .trampling barehanded on the drumhead I guess.
Then we're back to hammers, maybe linking with the opening.

Closing lines; is it really all to do with addiction and 'tripping'?

Something like some of my beloved Dylan Thomas where the images are more important than the sense.

Enlighten please. In appreciation, Leslie.

FYI guys,

John Bonham was Led Zeppelin's power house drummer.

I'll let Pseud take over from here.

who is John Bonham and does the fact that the poem is 'to him' make a difference - am I expected to know him?

Well, yes, and no. If you don't, no big deal, but yeah I doubt you'll get the poem. If you do (and know anything about his life) might get this poem.

In addition to what camus said:

He was a construction worker before he was a drummer.

The sore on the thumb was from a drumstick.

He died from too much alcohol.

Thank you three for readng.

Thanks for the info. Makes the poem much more significant and meaninful. Shall read again. It had much merit before, this uinderstanding raises it to a higher level. Some of the images become more than simply 'clever'. Congrats. Leslie.