Void by zyllion

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Submission Name: Void dots

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Author:	zyllion
Elite Ratio:	8 - 171/117/20
Words:	197

Class/Type:	Poetry/Passion
Total Views:	319
Average Vote:	1.0000
Bytes:	1452

Description:
This has been edited!

This is not passion as in loving passion. This refers to the passion of an action; in this case my passion towards music.

Please feel free to give me any comments that you feel are appropriate, and if you can relate, then all's the better.

Void

-------------------------------------------

The haunting melody
Resounds through my brain
Through the room
Through me
Expressing what words cannot

Mournful and sad
It depicts a tale
Of unshed tears
Swelling uncontrolled
Out of control
Help me!

In each note
Emotion timidly peeks out
Trying to enter into the listeners soul
The way it enters into mine

But I'm absorbed in my own little world
Where all I can see is black and white
Black keys
White keys
Black notes on a
White page

Filling my mind,
Body,
And soul,
Are emotions -
That only I can understand

Filling my mind,
Body,
And soul,
Are tears -
That only I can shed

Whispering to a friend
The truth
The need
That’s what the music does
But only if they listen

For in it do I find release
My music
My heart
My music is my heart

What does it take for you to understand?
That without my music I am nobody;
An unknown on the street
Begging for coins.
Catatonic and alone;
Too frightened to ask for clothes.

Hopeless
Helpless
Alone

Without music I am nobody,
Who are you?

Submitted on 2005-03-23 01:09:26 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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||| Comments |||
I found the tone somewhat difficult, you came across at times somewhat condescending. Assuming the reader wont understand, saying that these are feelings only you can understand. in a way all emotion is unique, as only you have the exact mix of emotion in you that you do. But having said that all emotions are universal. If you say i am sad or i am happy everyone knows what it means to be happy or sad, they just might not realise to what extent.
You say that muisc can express this - which is true, but music was made to be heard, and hearing is so different to sight. I work with people with disabilities and from experience, when someone is blind sound is very important to them, and they tune into many different conversations and things which are going on around them...the people i work with also REALLY love music, and i think that says a lot about expression, you could say that for them listening is seeing and hearing, because you learn to develop the senses. anyway im getting side tracked, i didnt like:
'Without my music I am nobody;
That nobody on the street
Begging for coins.
The homeless at the corner
Too frightened to ask for clothes.'

this sounds as if you are really looking down on the homeless. i dont like the attitude here. "nobody"? Thats nice, just because someONE doesnt own a car and a house and a bid bank account they are a nobody? I must be verging on no-body status then, by that rule, but take it from me i wouldnt take you calling me a 'nobody' lying down
i think that we should show others respect, you might just get some back
ellisa
| Posted on 2005-03-23 00:00:00 | by ellisa | [ Reply to This ]
Wow, so I get to be the first to comment. Yay. Well, zyllion, here goes something. During my analysis and breakdown of the poem, I am going to suggest changes to the punctuation, or lack thereof. Feel free to ignore them.

The haunting melody,
resounds through my brain -
through the room...
through me.
Expressing what words cannot.

This is about a song, well obviously, but I'm trying to collect my thoughts here. You're speaking of the actual nature of music, and what it can be - what it can express when it is written with heart, expressing the composer's full feelings. This stanza is the initial effect you feel after the poem is over.

Mournful and sad,
it depicts a tale,
of unshed tears.
Uncontrolled.
Out of control...
Help me!

This stanza kind of sounds like you maybe don't like the way that the music or song makes you feel. That you want some sort of control over it, but you have none. The song... well I wish I knew what the song was...

In each note,
emotion timidly peeks out -
trying to enter into the listener's* soul,
the way it enters into mine.

But I don’t notice.

There was a major punctuation problem there so I marked it with a star, heh heh. Um, This stanza rather betrays the previous stanzas. It says you don't notice, but before you were crying out for help. This is just a bit of a contradiction to me. I get what you're saying about the music though, that makes sense, but it sounds as though you are confused about how it effects you.

My own little world,
where all I see is black and white.
Black keys.
White keys.
Black notes on a,
white page.

Here, again, you're saying that they don't really affect you. Now, I'M confused.

Filling my mind,
body,
and soul,
are emotions -
that only I can understand.

Filling my mind,
body,
and soul,
are tears-
That only I can shed.

Normally, I would complain something about how this is repetitive, but I rather like the way it repeats itself here. The repetitiveness is actually vital for this particular poem. It kinda slows down the piece. You have to read it slower, it's just... I like it.

Whispering to a friend -
the truth.
The need.
That’s what the music does -
But only if they listen.

For in it, do I find release.
My music.
My heart.
My music IS my heart.

I hate to sound cliché, but I can SO relate to this part of the poem. Music is like SO my passion. I eat, sleep, breathe and DREAM music. My thoughts flow as little musical notes, and if you cut me... well I'd bleed, then I'd punch you. What I'm trying to say is I can relate to this and you expressed it quite well. Music used to actually LITERALLY tell a story just by the sounds, you know? Like voodoo drum beats and Native- American flute songs and stuff. I always like to hear those, too. It's like listening to someone sing in Icelandic, you know? You don't really know Icelandic, but the story they are telling is just so beautiful.

What does it take for you to understand?

Without my music I am nobody;
that nobody on the street,
Begging for coins.
The homeless at the corner,
too frightened to ask for clothes.

Hopeless.
Helpless.
Alone.

Wow, I feel like that sometimes. I kinda have a different view on homeless people though, but I know what they are like in California, I used to live there. Well, that's another story for another time. The one word lines work well in some poems, but I'm just not feeling them here, you know? Maybe you can expand them into something more, or maybe not - this IS your poem, after all.

Without expression I am nobody,
Who are you?

I think that no one is anybody without some way to express themselves. We call that place the MILITARY, lol. But, seriously I am glad sometimes that I live in these Divided States of America because we are afforded a LOT of freedoms here. Even if it IS a plutocracy.

- Virgil
| Posted on 2005-03-23 00:00:00 | by Aphotic Sunrise | [ Reply to This ]

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