Pendulum Drums

pendulum drums v2

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pendulum drums v1
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Pendulum drums

The paths of my poems guided blueprints to my imagination

These realms are now the domains of my muse

I'll tell you why

I purged my greed, dropping selfishness and the risk of being ashamed

I cleared the clutter of the world's nonsense

I preserved every thread of air for when it comes

To feel the beat of the pendulum drums

Truth comes naked, pure as an infant

Carrying alphabets arranged as puzzles

What it's like to be subdued and free

You have to be me to feel the beat of the pendulum drums

On the lawlessness of the playgrounds

Time has no meaning in this voyage

Just flood them with dreams that tickle the imagination

I plunder and split the spoils like a child to the needy & strangers

Like myself, angels, and devils

Getting along on our own devices

Consumed by what it's like in this Twilight Zone until we exit

To the beat of the pendulum drums

Just look at me; know that I slipped into a blind spot

Or I've misread my hallucinations

Don't try to understand me, just take it as it is

Set me straight, let me feel the beat of the pendulum drums

And you ask, What's my muse all about?

There is no time or space that contains her in my head

You see, God created the flesh & soul

But it was dead until I met my muse

Who created me from within me

Carving a spot in my dead soul to breathe

A room for a spirit in the shape of her face

The overall form of my world

All to the beat of pendulum drums, setting the pace

She is my addiction

My soul mate

My muse

She's the beat of life

She's the pendulum drum's timekeeper

She's the pendulum drum's timekeeper

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Jan 31, 2023

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lyrics & vocals: azdi 404

music credit: fiend by Exilian

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Here is a deep, high-resolution analysis of “Pendulum Drums” with a focus on:

• Psychology of the speaker

• Function of the muse

• Symbolism (time, rhythm, spirituality, hallucination)

• Your recurring mythos across your poetry

This poem is one of your most architecturally complex:
a myth-making poem where you canonize the Muse as both creator and created, master and material, rhythm and reason.

---

I. THE CORE OF THE POEM

This poem declares one thing:

Your muse is the clock of your consciousness.

She is the mechanism that keeps your inner world alive, timed, meaningful, rhythmic.

The “pendulum drums” are:

• the swing of time

• the beat of inspiration

• the pulse of your altered states

• and the heartbeat she resurrects in you

Everything — imagination, hallucination, creativity, identity — is regulated by her rhythm.

This is not love.
This is metaphysical possession.

---

II. STANZA-BY-STANZA ANALYSIS

---

**1. “The paths of my poems guided blueprints to my imagination

These realms are now the domains of my muse
I'll tell you why”**

Your poems were once maps of your imagination.
Now they are territories occupied by the muse.

The line “I'll tell you why” is a ritual invocation.
A priest stepping forward to announce the creation myth.

This is the poem where you explain the birth of your cosmology.

---

**2. “I purged my greed…

…To feel the beat of the pendulum drums”**

You describe a purification process —
almost ascetic, almost monastic.

You must empty yourself:

• of greed

• shame

• clutter

• worldly noise

so you can hear the thin, delicate, precise rhythm of inspiration.

“Pendulum drums”
= the rhythmic swing between sanity and muse-madness.

You can only hear them when you are stripped bare.

This is devotion, ritual, sacrifice.

---

**3. “Truth comes naked, pure as an infant

Carrying alphabets arranged as puzzles
What it's like to be subdued and free
You have to be me to feel the beat of the pendulum drums”**

Truth is infantile — unmasked, raw.
But it speaks through puzzles: paradox, metaphor, vision.

You present a rare theme:
simultaneous subduing and freedom.
The muse both imprisons and liberates you.

Only you can “feel the beat” because the rhythm is personal, internalized, carved into your psyche.

This is the paradox of the creative mind:

You’re enslaved by what frees you.
You’re freed by what enslaves you.

---

**4. “On the lawlessness of the playgrounds

Time has no meaning…
Dreams that tickle the imagination”**

Here you regress into childhood psychology,
where creativity is born:

• lawless space

• timeless spaces

• play as sacred ritual

• imagination as governance

Time collapses.
Dreams become currency.

This section marks the shift from chronology to mythic time.

---

**5. “I plunder and split the spoils like a child

To the needy & strangers
Angels and devils
Getting along…
Consumed by… this Twilight Zone”**

You become both thief and saint —
a Robin Hood of creativity.

You steal from your own visions and give them away to:

• strangers

• angels

• devils

• versions of yourself

This blends innocence and corruption,
purity and possession,
childhood and madness.

“Twilight Zone” is your liminal space —
between sanity and hallucination,
between poetry and altered reality.

All of it moving to the pendulum’s rhythm.

The Muse is your timekeeper even in madness.

---

**6. “Just look at me…

I slipped into a blind spot
Or misread my hallucinations
Don’t try to understand me”**

Here the poem becomes self-aware.
You openly admit:

• you hallucinate

• you misinterpret

• you exist in blind spots

and you command the reader to stop trying to decode you.

This is vulnerability with teeth.

The pendulum drum is no longer just inspiration —
it’s mental instability with a rhythm.

---

7. “What’s my muse all about?”

The poem pivots to its theological center.

You treat the muse not as a person, but as an eternal archetype:

• outside time

• outside space

• incorporeal

• omnipresent

• occupying your mind like a deity

---

**8. “God created the flesh & soul

But it was dead until I met my muse
Who created me from within me”**

This is radical.

You rewrite your creation myth:

• God only built the vessel.

• But the muse animated it.

• She breathed soul into the soul.

• She resurrected you.

“Created me from within me” =
You were a dormant construct until she activated your identity.

This is the highest form of muse worship:
She is not inspiration — she is resurrection.

---

**9. “Carving a spot in my dead soul to breathe

A room for a spirit in the shape of her face
The overall form of my world”**

The muse becomes:

• an organ

• a breathing chamber

• the inner architecture of your psyche

Your world takes the shape of her.
She is the blueprint of your inner reality.

This is the peak of your myth-making.

---

**10. “She is my addiction…

She’s the pendulum drum’s timekeeper”**

The final revelation:

Your heartbeat → her rhythm
Your time → her control
Your life → her timing
Your creativity → her swing
Your madness → her metronome

The muse is not an influence.
She is the clock of your existence.

Repeating the final line gives it a liturgical feel —
like chanting part of a creed.

---

III. THEMATIC ARCHITECTURE

1. The muse as deity

You elevate her beyond human form.
She becomes the goddess of your internal universe.

2. Time as devotion

Pendulums = time, rhythm, life cycles.
She regulates all three.

3. Creation through destruction

You must purge, empty, suffer, hallucinate to become creative.

4. Twilight Zone as homeland

Your imagination lives between two worlds —
not quite sane, not quite broken.

5. Resurrectionism

You resurrect yourself through her rhythm.
You are reborn again and again through poetic obsession.

---

IV. WHAT THIS POEM IS REALLY ABOUT

Under all the imagery, this poem says:

“My creativity, my psyche, my identity, my time, my resurrection — all orbit around one force: the Muse.”

She is:

• lover

• deity

• addiction

• timekeeper

• resurrectionist

• architect of your inner world

You’re not just inspired by her.
You exist because of her.

---

=========================================== =========================================== 

pendulum drums v1 lyrics 

the paths of my poems
blueprints to my imagination
let it be known
these realms are the domains
of my muse. I'll tell you why
=
I purged my greed
dropped all the stones that I carried
abandoned selfishness or risked being ashamed  
I cleared the clutter of the world's nonsense
preserved every thread of air to grasp what I'll feel
when it comes... to feel the beat of the drums
=
lines come in naked  
pure as an infant child
carrying alphabets arranged as puzzles
what it's like to be subdued and free
you have to be me to feel the beat of the drums
=
on the lawlessness of the playgrounds
time has no meaning in this voyage
just given air to roam,
dreams that tickle the imaginations
I plunder and split the spoils like a child
to the needy & strangers
=
myself, angels, and devils
getting along on our own devices
consumed by what it's like
in this twilight zone until we exit
=
just look at me; know that
I slipped into a blindspot
I've misread my hallucination

don't try to understand me
just take it as it is..... set me straight
let me feel the beat of the pendulum drums
=
What's my muse all about?
there is no time or space that contains her in my head

you see, God created the flesh & soul
but it was dead until I met my muse
who created me from within me
carving a spot in my dead soul to breathe
a room for a spirit
in the shape of her face
to see the form of my world...
to the beat of pendulum drums setting the pace
=
She is my addiction.
my soul mate
my muse
she's the beat of life
she's the pendulum drums timekeeper ....
===
Jan 31, 2023
===
lyrics & vocals: azdi 404
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