We Rhythm

Pounds of flesh beat rock,

Beat rocking to soothing melodies,

Vocalists,

Cubase keys,

And silent notes, fixed on symphonic combustions,

Exhilarating on mixed sound waves colliding with heat patterns,

Cultivating pleasant rhythmic elements for kind ears to mingle with,

We have dug past serenades,

Granites,

Just to find the comfort layers our hearts could conform to,

We stumble our feet,

Tiptoeing to tempos,

Drumming,

Flutes our late great drummers left for our hearts to pace with;

Now the present is clicking,

Tripping,

Snapping,

Beat boxing,

Composing,

Dancing to sequences that simultaneously transcend with our pulses,

To every house beat our hearts elope,

To every soul our hearts bleed out,

To every jazz rhythm our hearts startles,

Happiness liberates generously in our chests humming sorrows absent,

Thus we chant,

Ululate to every beat boxer,

Music composure,

Producer,

Ghost writer,

For this is the rhythm,

We are the rhythm,

And we rhythm

By: Ts Mashile