He played his guitar without ever seeing the strings

The orange glow of sixteen cigarettes
was all that was visible besides the stars
as we sat around in a circle on hard plastic chairs,
drinking bud light from aluminum cans.
He played his guitar,
in the dark,
without ever seeing the strings.
He hummed along,
his tone was sweet,
and it was perfect.
Salty air of the ocean filled our noses
as the waves lapped against the beach.
Trees swinging in the warm wind,
adding background noise.
Now all we did was listen.
Drunk on the sounds of happiness.
None of us ever once said a word that night.
He played his melody.
And it was perfect.

I liked this. It was very good and detailed. It was also very interesting! I thought that it was cool the way that you set the theme and how you stretched your imagination to things that many of us wouldn't think of. Very good! Keep writing!

I loved what you wrote. It was amazing! I felt your passion!

It perfect very inspiring haha no other words for it I felt like I was almost transported there! Great job let me know when you have another poem out.

I loved this too. But I do have one tiny critique. You say you "hear" the waves and then you "hear" the wind, and I think they're too close together. Perhaps "feel" would be more fitting? (especially since you described the wind as "warm")

Other than that, beautiful. Keep it up.

Wow, I like this. It's a nice, refreshing read. There are no mistakes for me to point out.
Good job, and keep it up! ^^

This is good. Pastoral quality mixed in with some romantic luster of the cigarette-induced streets and you have what appears to be a tasteful combination. I have only one suggestion to make and that is to alter the line about waves crashing; I feel very serene in this poem and a purposeful description of such base noise unnerves that settling emotion somewhat. The waves crashing should not be so poignant to the narrator, who seems to be taking everything in light, deep doses.

ok, this was amazing. I love the first line, about the glow of the cigarretes. the part about him playing his guitar without looking at the strings was perfect, and the ending left the reader content, but at the same time, wanting more.
great job!

Hi there,

Firstly, your title is wonderful and it actually attracted me to click on your piece. A small suggestion? Change "even" to "ever". I think it adds not only a better sound, but better meaning. A sort of double meaning.

The first two lines are a nice image, as it is a bit of a parallel, but then you drop into some bland concrete language afterward. The chairs image isn't as glamorous as your first two lines. Ditto about beer cans.

I would also get rid of the lines that say "it was perfect" as that is not really something we as readers can feel.

You have some more lovely description in the middle with the wind and such, but I would try to steer clear of word patterns used too much such as "crash against the beach" and "trees sway". I would also omit "air" after "salt", so it says simply "we could smell the salt of the ocean".

After this part, I would cut out some of the ideas that are difficult for readers to feel, such as "sounds of happiness" which means nothing really. At the end I would mention the strings again, as well as get rid of the "perfect" thing again.

Nice work!

This is lovely =] I love the image of cigarettes ends and stars, just lovely. It's brilliant and other-worldly as well as being here and real at the same time - the stars and the music, contrasting with the bud-light.

Your writing style is beautiful. I like this a lot.

The orange glow of sixteen cigarettes
[s]was [/s]--all that was visible beside[s]s[/s] the stars

I like the way this starts. Very beatnick type. Casual but tense. Interesting. You might want to bend the glow further--use description. I want to smell the smoke, feel the filter, etc. Be intense about everything.

[s]as [/s]we sat around in a circle on hard plastic chairs,
drinking Bud Light from aluminum cans.

Again, I like the setup. Reminds me of summer days with friends. Reminiscent. Nice. I get the feel this is very real and down-to earth, which is good because it relates the writing to the reader.

He played his guitar[s],[/s]
in the dark[s],[/s]
without ever seeing the strings.

If you've never seen Dead Poet's Society, I recommend you do. One of Robin William's sayings--"you're poem can be simple, but don't let it be ordinary"--is appropriate here. I see the scene, but I want to feel it too. Also, you are cluttering this poem with unecessary articles--and, the; poetry does not need that.

He hummed along,
his tone [s]was [/s]sweet,
[s]and [/s]it was perfect.

Description is everything. Question everything. Why was it sweet? Why was it perfect? In what way? What made it this way?

We got drunk to the sounds of happiness.

You are coming dangerously close to being cliche. Drunk of happiness, drunk on life--these metaphors need to be expanded to be original.

And it was perfect.

A good ending, but you might want to revise. One of my biggest peeves if repetition, and I think this poem could do without.

Overall, great poem. I thought it was very real.

Good luck!
Medusa.

The picture mentally was really great and reflected the kind of inner joy happiness. Having the scene by the ocean and even adding cigarettes and bud light made it seem really relaxed.

However, I think the fact that they got drunk took the attention away from the music, maybe they should get a drunk happiness from the sound of joy than the actual drink. Its only a suggestion though.

The last line

it was perfect

it think needs a little bit more to finish.

Other than that, I love the picture that you are protraying because everyone loves music and can relate to it.