From trenches rise the blood of thousand tongues;
a coral drawn from ash and crumbled lungs.
When caged the mining birds have ceased to sing
no feathered warning trills with broken wings
When drab this dreaded doom from muted drums.
becomes a buzz, a background and persistent hum.
I turn my back to spew of news and seek the verse
of waves and tree-top breeze to break my curse.
Trumpeter and drummer by Charles Blackman
Linked to Brendan’s prompt at toads of poetic songs … what songs inspire you? Alas I draw a lot of inspiration from the bleakness of the world, and sometimes I just have to turn my back and look at the nature.
Björn Rudbergs writings 
I love the heroic couplets, the nod to Angelou on her birthday, and the ideas behind each couplet. Your word choice is brilliant in this tight write.
I love that you caught the hint to Angelou…
Wow, wow, wow!💕 Love; “When drab this dreaded doom from muted drums.”
Yes, the rhythm of nature can calm the weary traveler, “the verse of waves and tree-top breeze.”
Perhaps it is not a curse? We all have to go bleak once in a while or more often.
Reminds me of heavy metal music. Tremendous strength and sound, and a great match between form and what you’re trying to convey.
Wonderful rhythm and rhyme going on here, Bjorn.
I unpicked the Angelou threads, Bjorn, and found you in among them! Tinnitus can be such a curse – my husband drowns his out by humming, singing and making guitar and drum noises!
My brother suffers from this and says ocean sounds are the. OST helpful for him. Your excellent write brought this memory back to me.
I absolutely agree with Kerry’s comment – this is well coupled and I like how in the end, you offer a simple alternative, when needs must.
Nice!!!
my favourite image:
“I turn my back to spew of news and seek the verse
of waves and tree-top breeze to break my curse.”
much love…
I understand the urge to take up the song for those birds who sing no longer, but needing some sort of haven to retreat to (at least every once and awhile) or risk going as mad as the world around me.
How many of us suffer from incessant ringing from all of our loud encounters … battle, traffic, big guitars. I really like the use of heroic couplets here.
Agh. Tinnitus that’s really in the ears is terrible —and tinnitus that’s in life about as bad. Wonderful sound here (ironically!). K.
As the old quote goes, “The love of Nature is the only love which in the end does not disappoint.” Or something like that. I love the rhyme here, which emphasizes the dreary rote we all wish we could turn from.
I love this, especially the ending. That spew of news is a spirit destroyer.