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Concora — The Blues
Published: 2012-04-23 06:55:58 +0000 UTC; Views: 719; Favourites: 21; Downloads: 3
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Description
My darling,ghost your fingers across
those black and white bones;
then tear them out—
you won't need them
anymore.
(There's no need for sheet music here,
when we have your semibreve breaths.)
My darling,
that piano is as barren as
the one who sits before it,
and doesn't play.
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Comments: 24
Favorited because it aches with almost-realized potential... I'd love to see rewrites for stanzas 1 and 2, especially reductions by about half their lines
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Oh no - not someone going through all my old stuff!
Hmm, a rewrite... interesting prospect. I think that will have to go on my to-do list, so thanks!
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Together with the description, that was chillingly lovely.
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Ah, thank you very much.
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My darling,
that piano is as barren as
the one who sits before it,
and doesn't play.
That made me shiver. Stunning work.
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I am glad. Thank you so very much.
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you're an incredible poet; the imagery is just so strong.
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That last stanza is very clever, as well as the rest of this piece. Great job!
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I fell in love with a piano at a young age. By high school I'd resolved to take lessons. Unexpected events came into play and I never took them up again.
I am the one that sits before it, but does not play.
This is lovely and perfect.
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I'm glad that it resonates with you, but
I'm sorry as for why. I can relate.
Thank you.
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Lovely imagery. There's a haunting quality taht makes this poem very appealing. Well done. <3
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Thank you very much.
I'm glad you thought so, that's the
effect I was aiming for. c:
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Too true.
The lines about the piano are amusing. What did you mean by "ghost your fingers" though?
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Just to move quietly and softly.
Thank you for your feedback! c:
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