The Harp *Edit*

A revision of an earlier poem.

The magnificent hall is filled to each seat,
they sit comfortably on chairs of crimson velvet,
dressed in their suits, their pearls and their silk.
The hall shifts to black; the chatter dies down.
A halo of light fixates upon the stage, upon
the solemn gold instrument they've all come to hear.
A girl, no older then nineteen, walks upon the stage,
a light and calm spring in her step. She's met with applause,
and she smiles modestly, gentle – her teeth pearl-white.

Delicately she sits, upon the wooden stool laid;
she clasps the sides of the instrument
and gently begins plucking the strings.
It's beautiful, so charmingly beautiful,
calm and soft; fragile.
For some of them sitting in the velvet chairs,
it's the most elegant music they've heard –
the sweet tunes, like enchanting lullabies.
They'll tell their friends, she'll grow in fame.

When the night is through, she takes a bow,
blushes at the thunderous applause, the rose petals which sprinkles the stage –
She thanks her audience for coming.
When they're gone, and the hall is silent,
she puts on her coat, ventures out into the night
back home to dark apartment to practice –
for she hasn't anyone close, not friend or partner,
her family is halfway across the country.

There is only her harp.

This is beautiful. Can you tell me if I get this right? So she is a musician with a harp and shes lonely. Maybe I'm wrong and stupid and idiotic but thats just me naurally. Are you insane wierd odd insane. Emphasis on insane. Because I am. And I like it. sorry im just super hyper. I like to write stories so im reveiwing a lot. Sorry im just really hyper. Go to my portfolio and see what Ive done. Just dont read the kissing cliff. Its stupid. Okay Im just wierd and we have a school delay tommorow and I just cant wait to see my friends. Especially dylan. Hes like my best friend ever. Okay well then. Antidisastablishmentarianism. Goodbye.

I enjoyed this piece of poetry.
It was different and it worked well, though I do think more descriptions could work nicely with it as I found it slightly rushed near the end. Like it was missing something that could be key to truly hold its beauty.
My personal favourite line, however, has to be:

the solemn gold instrument they've all come to hear

It use of the word "gold" makes it seem priceless and wanted; while the use of the word "solemn" makes it seem alone.
I think this worked well, but yes as I said more detail could be used to create more of a feeling and perhaps another verse.
Other then that,
Well done!

This was nice I liked the second line the best. The last, I agree, seemed a bit rushed, but it was a beautiful piece.

Why hello, first customer! ^_^
Now, on to business.

The magnificent hall is filled to each seat,
they sit comfortably on chairs of crimson velvet – Really nice opening. This is a super simple comment, but I love how you opened this piece with the opening of another piece. It gave a really nice welcoming tone, that seemed to almost invite the reader in. I would, however, think of replacing the dash you have with a comma. The dash creates an almost awkward pause, and the next line is connected with this one, so I think it would be more appropriate.


The hall becomes black; "Becomes" is a very passive word to me. When I've been to classical concerts/performances the hall turning black is an almost abrupt moment, when all talk suddenly becomes hushed, and all of a sudden, everyone's attention is diverted to one spot.

a single band of light fixates upon the stage, upon I know, sorry for all the nitpicks, but I think that the word "band" is a little odd- maybe something more like "halo"?


and she smiles a modest smile. I think that you could incorporate more imagery/figurative language into this line. I think that the smile could be a really nice moment and that you could do a lot with it, but you kind of let the opportunity pass by. Maybe switch out the repetition of "smile" with something a little gentler. That's how I imagine her smile-- kind of gentle, more of an inward glow than anything else.

You set the scene really well, and very concisely, which is something that I struggle with.
I think that maybe you could incorporate more figurative language into it, just to make the actual words more interesting. This, while being nice in it's articulate style, is also kind of bare-bones. You obviously don't have to overdo it, as I do, but more would be good.

Delicately she sits, upon the wood stool laid; Nice word, "delicately", but the next clause sounds kind of awkward.

she takes the instrument in her hands and gently begins plucking the strings. If I'm not mistaken, harps sit by themselves-- the way you have this phrased makes this almost sound like she's pick it up. I would make her the more passive object in this line, so we understand that the harp is large and independent from her. Also, seeing that this is a big part of the piece, more figurative language could help stress the visual emphasis here.

It's beautiful, so charmingly beautiful,
calm and soft, sweet. I would make this sound softer, almost like the harp's music itself. Also, "sweet" feels a bit odd to me. I generally associate "sweet" with a kind-hearted person, and not harp music. Words like "fragile" or "intangible", maybe even "subtle" seem more appropriate. Off the top of my head-- I'm sure you could find bettere.

She plays the notes with ease, both the high and the low. This line feels a bit off to me. I think that you could cut it altogether, as it really doesn't offer much visually or story-wise. We already know this by her entrancing the audience.
For some of them sitting in the velvet chairs,

it's the prettiest music they've heard – I really like the stop after this line, but the line itself kind of bothers me. I really don't like "prettiest" here. It kind of brings down the elegant tone of the music for me, and reduces it to something that's just kind of... pretty.

the sweet tunes, like lullabies. Love the incorporation of "lullabies- you could definitely build off that if you wanted to.

They'll tell their friends,
she'll grow in fame. I would consider making these two lines into one, and maybe playing with it a bit more. The rhythm feels odd, as does the wording. Maybe instead describe what memories she'll leave behind her to allude to this?

Most of my problems in this stanza is with the wording- again, you could play with some of the vocabulary, and maybe add in some figurative language in the areas that you want to emphasize.

When the night is through,
she takes a bow,
thanks her audience for coming. Maybe make a quick mention to the audience's reaction. Were they silent in awe, or did the theatre roar in an enthusiastic response? Were people talking afterwards, motioning up to the stage where she still stood or left already? Were there rose petals scattered across the aisles from presents brought for the performance?

When they're gone, and the hall is silent,
she puts on her coat, ventures out into the night
back home to practice – Love the last three lines- really nice job.

for she hasn't anyone close, only her harp. This is an excellent ending-- only, you've left it very bare. I would add on to this, in order to really allow the reader to feel her loneliness. As of now, this is really passively stated, and the phrase "she hasn't anyone close" feels a little awkward. Emphasize how little interaction and love she has in her life with other people, and how she almost seems to depend on her harp for happiness. We want to be sad at the end: make it strong.

Overall, this is a really strong piece. Most of my problems were nitpicks with phrasing and word choice, and they're all pretty easily fixed I think. You could have a stronger ending, and try to be a little bit more active/aggressive in your writing. You kind of tip-toe around your subjects and strong points, when you want them to hit hard, even if your subject is about something as delicate as a harp and loneliness. Like I said though, this was really well done. Let me know if you want me to take a look at an edit or anything else, and good job!

-Coral-

Thanks for the comments, everyone! I've edited with your suggestions. I concentrated on embellishing on the ending a bit; I hope this version is better! I'm glad you guys liked it!

I’m here Eli! (Note to self, I need to get around to reading more of ItD. The flash drive I’ve been carrying it around on is actually in my pocket right now.)

First Stanza:
I like the image you’re trying to paint here. But some of the words don’t seem to fit together quite right. In places, I found myself stumbling rather awkwardly over certain phrases and mainly because of one or two words like “become” in the fourth line which sounds very informal. Not to mention, the prose-ish words in there and the abundance of them like “a” “and” “the” and “in” and those. Those little words feel very choppy.

Second Stanza:

Delicately she sits, upon the wood stool laid;

Um…why is the word “laid” in here?

It's beautiful, so charmingly beautiful,

I usually detest repetition but I like it a lot here for whatever reason…just figured I would point that out.

There’s something that lacks a lot of poetic value in this stanza. Even if it is Narrative poetry, something about it almost feels like prose that’s been chopped up a bit and then edited poetically still retaining, however, a huge part of its prosieness. (I think that’s the biggest difficulty in Narrative poetry. Balancing storytelling and poetry.)

Third Stanza:

the rose petals which sprinkles the stage –

This line, with its placement, dangles off of the end extremely painfully. But that might be a typo kind of thing.



Okay, all and all, I love the story here. (I think that, more than anything, is what I love about Narrative poetry. The prose of it, not so much the poetry.) But your wording is almost entirely prose like. It feels like a story summary that’s been divided at the commas. (No offense if that feels kind of meansies.)

But I’m also not completely familiar with the techniques of narrative poetry. Maybe that’s how they all go. What I can comment on with certainty is the content and that is wonderful.

~lilymoore

Wow, this is pretty good! The title was especially appealing to me because I just happen to be a harpist, although very little of this applies to me (being much younger than nineteen I still live with family... that and I'm not a girl...) I take it from the brief description that she is probably playing a Concert Grand harp? Usually those have gold inlaid (which is why they are about the same price as a minivan). I really like how you describe the sound as fragile... I've been playing for 3 years and that is a word I've never used, but it really fits.
I greatly enjoyed it!
~LordLoredaen

Heyy,
As a harp player i find this poem really touching, it is obviously written by someone who has experienced this situation.
The way the atmosphere is created is very detailed and you get a real feeling of what it would be like to be the harp player. The description of the harp itself is not extremely detailed, i like this because it gives the feelin that the harp is a very mysterious charachter in the poem. Love this piece, keep writing X

Your poem is very intriguing, it seems like your talking from experience, your spelling is satisfactory and there is nothing to change about it. Your poem gives great Imagery and I would recommed it to anyone, the use of alliteration and onomatopoeia is exclusive,again well done!

The magnificent hall is filled to each seat,
they sit comfortably on chairs of crimson velvet,
dressed in their suits, their pearls and their silk.
The hall shifts to black; the chatter dies down.
A halo of light fixates upon the stage, upon
the solemn gold instrument they've all come to hear.
A girl, no older then nineteen, walks upon the stage,
a light and calm spring in her step. She's met with applause,
and she smiles modestly, gentle – her teeth pearl-white.

Delicately she sits, upon the wooden stool laid;
she clasps the sides of the instrument
and gently begins plucking the strings.
It's beautiful, so charmingly beautiful,
calm and soft; fragile.
For some of them sitting in the velvet chairs,
it's the most elegant music they've heard –
the sweet tunes, like enchanting lullabies.
They'll tell their friends, she'll grow in fame.

When the night is through, she takes a bow,
blushes at the thunderous applause, the rose petals which sprinkles the stage –
She thanks her audience for coming.
When they're gone, and the hall is silent,
she puts on her coat, ventures out into the night
back home to dark apartment to practice –
for she hasn't anyone close, not friend or partner,
her family is halfway across the country.

There is only her harp.

This is a buetiful poem. Your idea is running strong and great. The words flowed smoothly and clearly, and I didn't get tripped up over them. The sensory imagery here is great,

"They sit comfortably on chairs of crimson velvet,"

That sentence is very descriptive and I could picture it clearly. This is an outstanding poem. Keep up the great work!

Tyler.

First of all, the tone of the poem is the same any piece on harp would have. Slow, steady, meaningful. The description of velvets, silks, and suits, though tactile, gives the same feel as the harp.

It's beautiful, so charmingly beautiful,
calm and soft; fragile.

is exactly what I would use to describe your poem.
Second of all, the story itself, very good observation of a musician's life. Others may be jealous, but all in all, they do lead a sacrificial life, a sad life.
Very well done poem, better than most professional ones too...