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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Music Machinedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: WhatYouWill
    Elite Ratio:    5.75 - 65/76/35
    Words: 299
    Class/Type: Poetry/Lostfriend
    Total Views: 604
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2101



    Description:
       In response to "storytellings", by liquid.

    Sort of.

    No, this is not an angst poem, the category just fit too well to pass up.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsMusic Machinedots
    -------------------------------------------


    I miss the person I used to know
    when I would lay on the white sand beaches,
    watching the smallest smiles, seeing
    the violin strings warble out
    a melody.

    The person who could run down the streets barefoot,
    not worrying about the splinterings of life.
    (Your flesh was softer than I remembered,
    and I wondered at the cuts and abrasions,
    beautiful,
    like measures of Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms.)

    I miss the person who taught me to scream,
    sing,
    and sigh.

    I miss the person who would jitterbug enthusiastically
    in the soft and silent heather fields
    with me.

    The one who would teach me not only
    to see the curve of a hand in the shape-forming mists,
    or a coming thunderstorm in the clouds,
    or the outline of a white-dressed mountain
    through the roiling bubbling gray fog.

    No,
    you showed me how to see
    a roaring, coughing, spluttering,
    music machine,

    how to spy it winging its way through the air
    like some great metal bird
    with rusty iron wings and
    copper veins, staining the blood green,

    how to hear it pumping with the strong beat of
    bass fiddle arteries,
    African drum atriums,
    tango bravo capillaries,
    a wheezing accordion heart,

    see it all roaring with the noise of a metal-painted dance,

    and you show it to me,
    and then you take it,
    your mouth twitching into a smile,
    and turn it into something
    soft, gentle, and melodic
    by your very presence,
    and the way your hand is moving very slightly to the side.

    You turn it into something sweet and slow,
    somthing jazzy, blue,

    you turn it into something to dance to.

    And, oh, you
    swinging,
    singing,
    step-up-kick-Irish-dancing,
    bravely bunnyhopping,
    wonderful music-maker:

    do you miss me, too?




    Submitted on 2009-07-18 15:26:49     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      For some reason I am not real crazy about the 8th stanza, not to say it is bad, but feels like it lacks a cretin focus that is present in the rest of the work. I think I am almost the opposite of Hecate there. I like the beginning and I think it start to sputter a bit. Over all though, this is a very well executed poem. Thanks for a good read.
    | Posted on 2010-10-30 00:00:00 | by nicodemous | [ Reply to This ]
      Things that I like:
    The fascinating premise.
    How it builds to a crescendo.
    The use of repetition to create a definite beat (fitting for a piece about music).

    HOWEVER
    It seems a bit sprawling. I appreciate that you want to start in the same way as liquid (I had to look it up just for this occasion, and MAN that is a depressed poem) but it liquid's is much shorter, only 4 or so stanzas, and yours is more like 14. Granted, some of them are one-liners, but it still feels like it should have a slower introduction. Perhaps, also, you should start by introducing the friend you miss, getting the reader to like them, and then let it be known that they're somehow gone. Start with fact and build to emotion.

    That's just a suggestion, of course. I like the poem; it's vivid and sweet. The only problem is, I think, that it lacks a plot, which makes it somewhat dense to read and consider. That may be part of the point. You decide.

    In conclusion:

    CHECKMATE!
    | Posted on 2009-12-21 00:00:00 | by Hecate | [ Reply to This ]


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