You were the maestro getting ready for concert, but as you tapped your wand against the stand- the crowd was rioting and all the players were missing. The violinist was smoking pot out on the balcony, watching the shambles of tubas and trumpets against the pavement. Piccolo and flute players alike stood against the ballroom doors, making desertion impossible and cluing you into the plan.
The quiver of your lips brought joy to my sonata, this lonesome clarinet looming in the background. Every shade of red you turned cued another to join the symphony. The oboe hissed, the baritone bellowed angry notes meant to cause you harm. Your fingers began to shake and the cymbals chimed in time. I wondered, perhaps, if this was going to far.
(Oh no, Darling,
I've seen the white flag in our future,
and if we're going down-
we're going down in flames, damnit.)
I'm no fool, I noticed the way each fermata held just a second shorter than the last, the way the solos slipped away. I knew I was becoming a thing of the past. The range of my emotions much shorter than that of my pride, you must have grown tired of me and moved on. You could have alerted me with a trill, or by a sectional dispute, but instead you just left me to wait. The crescendos became decrescendos, the final straw. You could write me out of your life- but not out of this.
So as the baton snapped, the bongos were introduced, added a whole new level of insincerity to the playing field. Before your eyes, your traditions and order, faltered and crashed, and sweetie, I could see the tears in your eyes. This wasn't what you expected, not what you'd planned- did you really expect me to stay a docile arrangement? Did you really think that I'd step aside and allow my heart to turn to brass? Oh no, this is the end, this is the dramatic twist to the piece. The final wrap up and then the gong will sound and the building will burn to flames. Counter melody meets melody, and the dissonances are astounding- only one of us can make it through this.
(Baby, I'm hoping it will be me this time)
Author notes
D A N N E H
My hopes are so high,
that your kiss might kill me.
So won't you kill me,
so I die happy.
My heart is yours to fill or burst,
to break or bury,
or wear as jewelery,
which ever you prefer.
Eh- a bit too personal for my preferences. I felt like the prompt once, but two co-dependents don't belong together. So it became a scene in the end, when we no longer could feed each other's needs properly.
A contest entry
- if i take the blame than i take the credit too. by alaska..
700 points, ended May 16, 9 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - the ethereal rounds;; auditions. by Immortal Obscurity.
775 points, ended August 2, 19 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
If I awake from this Dream- will you tell me what it means?
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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I like the poem, but what killed it for me was the number of spelling- and grammar-errors here. I always advise my contestants to proofread before they post; these are the things that cost people trophies in the later rounds.
I may add you to the finals... Then again, I may not. There are still six spots up for grabs, so you never know.
Thanks for entering.
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You speak of errors- but don't elaborate.
I realize, looking back through- that I spelled Maestro wrong. But other than that, I don't notice them. -
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Admittedly, I was rather tired when I made the original comments; I'd been up since 6 am, and I didn't have the time or energy to go into details, but since you have requested that I elaborate, I will:
Other than the misspelled 'maestro', this bit here was one that struck me as a bit off:
"(Oh no, Darling,
I've seen the white flag in our future,
and if we're going down-
we're going down in flames, damnit.)"
Firstly, I don't find that your tone here is appropriate to the rest of the poem. As I already said, there are some great moments here, but in bits like this, you need to work on keeping your language soft; think of a dove, or a calla-lily; something delicate and fragile, but beautiful.
In terms of being technically-sound:
-"darling" should be lowercase; even if it is used to address a person, it is not a proper name.
-that first sentence should be followed by either a semicolon or ellipses.
-the first 'down' should be followed by a comma, not a hyphen.
(Oh no, darling;
I've seen the white flag in our future
and, if we're going down,
we're going down in flames, damnit.)
Other sections:
-a flute-player is called a flautist; I think it sounds less-obstructive, but I won't tell you which word to use.
-this line:
"Every shade of red you turned cued another to join the symphony. The oboe hissed, the baritone bellowed angry notes meant to cause you harm."
Possibly consider a semicolon instead of a fullstop after the word, "symphony". I say this because the two sentences can be combined into one and sound less-choppy.
"playing field" is a compound word and should be connected by a hyphen. Same with "counter-melody", though you probably meant "harmony".
"Before your eyes, your traditions and order, faltered and crashed, and sweetie, I could see the tears in your eyes. This wasn't what you expected, not what you'd planned- did you really expect me to stay a docile arrangement?"
Try this instead:
"Before your eyes, your traditions and order faltered and crashed, and darling, I could see the tears in your eyes. This wasn't what you'd expected, not what you'd planned; did you really expect me to stay a docile arrangement?"
There are a few more that I wanted to mention, but I'll stop going through this with my fine-toothed grammar-comb and enjoy it for what it is. As I said, this is a beautiful poem, but always be aware; if you need grammar-help, you can ask me.
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I appreciate the grammar work, most people who read poetry only see the content and never mention the technical errors... Which can be annoying to me.
I meant Counter-Melody. When a Melody and a Harmony meet- there are no dissonances. At least, not normally.
Darling is supposed to be capitalized. Darling is his last name.
On this section:
(Oh no, Darling,
I've seen the white flag in our future,
and if we're going down-
we're going down in flames, damnit.)
I'm going to disagree with you on the tone. Mostly because I've done this piece before- as a spoken piece for a drama class.
I don't know what tone you are reading this in, but that section is the tone of the piece.
It isn't meant to be a pretty fluffy piece. It's a sneering piece. An angry monologue. -
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I didn't know that Darling was this person's last-name. That makes a bit more sense now.
I didn't, however, see it as overtly-angry. The subtle, simmering-beneath-the-surface anger was there, but I found that it read as more melancholic than angry. Of course, it's all in the reader's interpretation. Keep in mind that, on a page, it's very hard to gauge the narrator's tone; what may be obvious in a dramatic monologue may not always be obvious to a reader who cannot hear your voice or see your facial-expressions.
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-Every shade of red you turned,-
I kept wanting to read it: You turned every shade of red. The way you phrased it made my think of yoda from star wars.
-(Oh no, Darling,
I've seen the white flag in our future,
and if we're going down-
we're going down in flames, damnit.)-
oh my. i loved this.
i really loved how everything related to the theme of music. music and poetry are my life. you incorporated both in a touching manner. snaps for you.
i loved the emotion in this. wow. breathtaking.
you used the prompt well.
good luck. -
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Hmm. I loved using music and poetry- though I no longer play, I used to play 4-5ish different instruments.
As for the first phrase-
A. You just pointed out a typo without realizing it =P That comma isn't supposed to be there.
and
B. I don't think it means the same thing when put "you turned every shade of red" because that simply means that.
I was trying to say that each new shade of red was acting as a cue for another instrument.
I'll work on that. -
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oh. yes. i see now.
my reading problem. the comma threw my off and i thought the part after was a separate clause.
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i'm sorry, thirteen is already taken.
can you pick another number? -
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One I guess
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i'm sorry.
My hopes are so high,
that your kiss might kill me.
So won't you kill me,
so I die happy.
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