volta
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Description:
frozen.
volta
i should've been many more things to you when i sold my secrets; at the least, a flurry of fingers and wild hair waiting for the next storm. blend this world into circles, into pastel notes: this is what you would have me believe, with what makes sense when alone and sleeping fitfully. grace, and how to destroy this with foolish patience. honesty: how to grind this with mortar and pestle. the scent of green, and why i always end up with purple. a violin, when all i wanted was a flute. speak plainly, for i only know of riddles. dissect and learn, yet bury the answers soon. |
Submitted on 2009-01-30 06:17:48 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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| "grace, and how to destroy this with foolish patience." This line reminds me of the time when I used to dance. ([censored] off. I have a point, I assure you.) My coach used to say, "master the moves, Cantera." And when I concentrate too much, carefully and patiently handling every step, he would tell me, "dance like you actually have talent. Like if you miss a step it's not a mistake but your take on the choreography!" Ah... there's the rub. =P You always speak like a lover even when you're not talking about love or when you don't put any "you's" on a piece. It comes with the voice. And to me, this is like a good resolution and/or break up poem. "blend this world into circles" reminds me of those art classes you take as a kid when you would sketch something and you have to start with circles. I hated those since I always ended up ruining my paper. =P I guess the need for clarity, precision or consistency is such a dirty adventure. People rarely make it through. But when they do, I guess some times, it's worth it. A question though. Pardon my ignorance or stupidity. Is it "volta" because of the river or the behavior of the music?  Anyway... nice one. As always. Really, that's mostly the only reason as to why I stop by. =P | Posted on 2009-11-20 00:00:00 | by ANGELO | [ Reply to This ] | this is so incredibly beautiful. thank you so much for your colourful imagery and imaginations.. | | Posted on 2009-03-24 00:00:00 | by blackbird | [ Reply to This ] | Hi, | Something pulled me away from this the other night as I was about to comment. (I think the cat was sick). Forgive me. I'm a bit rusty at commenting. i should've been many more things to you when i sold my secrets; at the least, a flurry of fingers and wild hair waiting for the next storm. I love the skillful alliteration in "flurry of fingers," "sold my secrets," and "wild hair waiting". Your diction is just lovely. blend this world into circles, into pastel notes: this is what you would have me believe, with what makes sense when alone and sleeping fitfully. I love how impressionistic this piece is. It's both specific and universal at once. grace, and how to destroy this with foolish patience. honesty: how to grind this with mortar and pestle. the scent of green, and why i always end up with purple. a violin, when all i wanted was a flute. I love the synesthesia of "the scent of green". You could omit "all" in "a violin, when all i wanted was a flute." I'd probably also omit the first and last commas, but it's your baby. speak plainly, for i only know of riddles. dissect and learn, yet bury the answers soon. Plain words are often the biggest riddles for me. Nicely done, Amy | Posted on 2009-02-08 00:00:00 | by cuddledumplin | [ Reply to This ] | The first stanza is dramatic and mysterious and maybe nostalgic? The flurry of fingers sets up the entire piece like small ripples in a pond. I like that part especially, and it seems to really give the piece and the situation a unique character. | The first line of the second stanza was fantastic for me, I have an addiction to circles and pastel, chalky and at the same time down to earth, that's what I am getting. I don't know if that makes perfect sense. Ha. And the rest of the stanza just lets the reader know the terms of the relationship. Then the third stanza, oh I like. It is so honest, the imagery just ices the cake onto the already brilliant form of words. It reminds of the games that people play, the dance and the limitation, that's where I think the honesty bit fits in, it is sudden and almost difficult in nature. Literally here grinding away the delusions that you had about things, or maybe she was delusional, or maybe both. The last part is kind of ominous to me and foreboding. Kind of like you see the course of events that are laid out on this particular path and you are warning the other person involved, this is also alluded by the circles and the flurry of fingers and the construction of the piece itself. Really enjoyable piece. Thanks for sharing. | Posted on 2009-02-02 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ] | I love this. I love the beginning, because it leaves you thinking; it can go 2 directions there.... "I should have been more things to you when I sold my secrets..." It could mean, that you should have been more things to her, or that you should have tried harder to be more things for the 'exchange' in the relationship... it's secretive in that it doesn't disclose that... | As for the rest, a violin instead of a flute.... yeah, we think we're getting a beautiful song, that the instrument will become what we want, but that's not always true... we always know which melody moves us most, even when we think we can adapt. Really a moving, beautiful piece. | Posted on 2009-02-01 00:00:00 | by SmokinG | [ Reply to This ] | Hi there.... this poem echoes with frustration.... over something... another person... yourself.... ? it has nice flow and imagery though. I liked the Third stanza in particular. Thanks for then comment.... ciao | | Posted on 2009-01-31 00:00:00 | by col13x | [ Reply to This ] | this sounds like.........idk. i can 100 percent relate to this. not currently, but it brings up a whole bunch of memories from past relationships. sort of, how understands can be vague, but at times vast, limiting ones selfs ability to express themselves clearly to others. | grace, and how to destroy this with foolish patience. honesty: how to grind this with mortar and pestle. the scent of green, and why i always end up with purple. a violin, when all i wanted was a flute. that stanza was perfect in my opinion, especially how the third line goes off the wire for a sec, but the fourth seems to answer it, good poem here. peace ryan | Posted on 2009-01-31 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ] | It sounds nice in my head, I only wish I understood. I mean I get where you are coming from I just don't get the words.....if that makes sense. | -Sarah | Posted on 2009-01-31 00:00:00 | by SDodson | [ Reply to This ] | |
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