4'33"

4’33”

edited version

4’33”, the epic piece,
no fingers ever grace the keys.
So silent is the performance
that for a short period of time
the audience realizes the
chaos of the world around them
and the beauty of its absence.

And they have time to contemplate.

Probing fingers tear into their souls
exposing an emptiness which
only silence can reveal.
They have never before realized
how many questions science is
unable to answer. Suddenly
a seed of fear is planted in their minds.

A man begins to cough in the
middle of the piece. Several
people jump, and look around,
alarmed. Then they promptly
lean back against the seats and
fall into an endless black hole:
the black hole of thought.

Bullets cover the sky as thick as grass on a lawn.
The soldiers are lying on the ground,
helpless against the constant barrage.
They are behind a short brick wall,
holding out until they die.
Suddenly they are hit from behind;
a machine gun rips apart their bodies.

Their minds begin to race.
Every question which has ever
gone unanswered. Every thought
that has ever been repressed.
This is the end.
They die thinking, but never knowing.


The pianist puts down the piano lid,
and the audience's minds
are pulled out of the black hole.
They look around frantically at other people,
as if fearing that the emptiness they
now feel inside of them is visible
to the entire audience.

Their minds try to grasp the fleeting
thoughts that survived the black hole’s pull,
but before they can get a firm
grip on them, they disappear as
the silence disappeared when the
pianist put down the piano lid.

Before they can fill the emptiness
the magnificent piece is over.
Chaos is restored;
Peace and silence fall on deaf ears.
People exit the auditorium,
returning to the same world
they had left four and a half minutes ago.

And nothing has changed.

The people have experienced
tranquility for the first time,
along with methodical reflection.
Yet they do not change their ways.
The poor are still poor.
The rich are still rich.
The sinners continue to sin.
New wars replace old wars.
The aimless have not found purpose.
The ignorant are still ignorant.

And, it seems, humans will always be human.

I loved it! That was a beautiful piece of work, it was grabbing and engrossing. I liked the title choice and I think I have some idea of why you chose it. Mysterious... I like. : )

Mirage wrote:I loved it! That was a beautiful piece of work, it was grabbing and engrossing. I liked the title choice and I think I have some idea of why you chose it. Mysterious... I like. : )

Sorry to disapoint, but:
4'33" is a real piano piece. It was written in 1952 by John Cage, a musical composer who experimented with what he called "chance music" in which elements of the piece are left to chance (in this piece it was how the audience reacted). He also experimented with electronic music and with other styles which were, and still are, controversial because many people do not recognize them as actually being music. He questioned (and probably expanded) the meaning of music.

So, unfortunately, I didn't make this all up off the top of my head

But I'm glad you liked it.

-Jason-

I'm embarassed...

Mirage wrote:I'm embarassed...

There's no need to be. The song isn't very well known, for obvious reasons (such as it probably was never recorded or played on the radio or anything like that). I myself had never heard of it until I ran across it when researching elements of musical composition on Wikipedia. I was fascinated, and therefore wrote a poem about it, although the poem's focus is not on the actual song but rather on the clearness of mind which silence brings. It is also supposed to be a response to those people who ask "why can't we all just get along and be equal?" The answer is the last line "And, it seems, humans will always be human."

-Jason-

Hooyah, IceCreamMan. That was brilliant!

I really loved it - and I know what you mean by the silence in piano being the little moment in time where you get to comteplate. My piano teacher showed me this article in some musical journal called "Silence is Golden". She was trying to get across the fact that rests are just as, if not more, inportant than the notes. By now I get waht she means, and this piece really illustrates that well. Lol, except that in this piece the whole song is rests.

The people have experienced / tranquility for the first time / along with methodical reflection / Yet they do not change their ways / The poor are still poor / The rich are still rich / The sinners continue to sin / New wars replace old wars / The aimless have not found purpose / The ignorant are still ignorant.

That was the best stanza. I really loved this. Double thumbs way way up.

I absolutely loved this poem. It conveyed a deep meaning, and I like that. It makes the poems or stories so much better. It makes the writer put a lot of emotion and effort. Great wook.

Anybody who says this was lousy, should commit hari-kari.

Ah, the joys of praise with no critique! Time to right that

Well, overall a very good piece. My problem is, you seem to oscillate between excellent imagery and teeth-on-edge cliche. I recognize that you are trying to deal with some of the 'big' questions in life through the medium of a piece of music that expresses them, but I feel like your method of portraying those questions is just too run-of-the-mill.

For example, after the beauty of the first stanza (and bridge) you go with this boring, joe-average list of 'the bigges'. There's no imagination, nothing to catch the imagination: just "faces long vanished", and you can bet I've heard that one a fair few times. That whole stanza really needs overhauling - think of a less blunt, more symbolic and original way of saying everything you've said and you'll be a million miles better off.

And once again, the third stanza is excellent, followed by the last one which is, again, a bit of a list. Better than the second stanza, but I still think you can find a better way of putting that - after all, you've proved you're adept enough with imagery.

It's good, certainly, and it's got potential for more: I just think you need to look at it and get rid of some of the overused phrases in there.

Thanks backgroundbob. I seriously was thinking that exact same thing when I was writing it, but for some reason I couldn't come up with a better way of expressing it so I just kept going. I will work on changing those stanzas as soon as possible (ie when I finish homework).

I think I just came up with something good to replace the second stanza with, but i'm not going to edit the post until someone reviews this adjustment. Here it is. This is going to be replacing the second stanza probably, although it is more than one stanza. Please critique! (especially backgroundbob):

Probing fingers tear into their souls
exposing an emptiness which
only silence can reveal.
They have never before realized
how many questions science is
unable to answer. Suddenly
a seed of fear is planted in their minds.

A man begins to cough in the
middle of the piece. Several
people jump, and look around,
alarmed. Then they promptly
lean back against the seats and
fall into an endless black hole;
the black hole of thought.

Bullets cover the sky as thick as grass on a lawn.
The soldiers are laying on the ground,
helpless against the constant barrage.
They are behind a short brick wall,
holding out until they die.
Suddenly they are hit from behind;
a machine gun rips apart their bodies.

Their minds begin to race.
Every question which has ever
gone unanswered. Every thought
that has ever been repressed.
This is the end.
They die thinking, but never knowing.

The pianist puts down the piano lid,
and the audience's minds
are pulled out of the black hole.

Much better! I think you need to reword the first line of this new bit (two is too many for 'their' ) but altogether an improvement.

My advice to you is to integrate the last stanza of the new lot and the start of the third stanza in the original. And don't let anyone tell you that the new one is too long - length isn't a bad thing, it's a virtue if you can keep up the quality. Which I reckon you can.

how about this? (note: the new parts are in italics, the other parts are there so you can see if it flows with the rest of the poem)

The pianist puts down the piano lid,
and the audience's minds
are pulled out of the black hole.
They look around frantically at other people,
fearing that the emptiness they
now feel inside of them is visible
to the entire audience.

Their minds try to grasp the fleeting
thoughts that survived the black hole’s pull,
but before they can get a firm
grip on them, they disappear as
the silence disappeared when the
pianist put down the piano lid.

Before they can fill the emptiness
the magnificent piece is over.
Chaos is restored;
Peace and silence fall on deaf ears.
People exit the auditorium,
returning to the same world
they had left four and a half minutes ago.

EDIT:

I changed the one line you pointed out as well. It now reads:

Probing fingers tear into their souls