play on
daughter of the moonlight
play through the night
play on your gleaming
white piano
unblemished
unstained
uncorrupted
pure and clean
unlike you
play until your fingers
can play no longer
until your fingers
can play no longer
until your fingers will play no more
but do not worry
they will play
they will always be able to play
your fingers will dance forever
and you will never be able to stop
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
Add another line at the end about eternity or something to finish it off.
Add more about why she is unclean.
But I like it!
Any poem about a piano is good to me.
~Charlotte~
cymbeline_x,
This poem's only accomplishment is its demonstration of your knowledge of the "Enter" key. The one-word lines neither invoke poetic reflection nor provoke a start-stop reaction that makes each word linger in the reader's mind.
Instead, it bores and is instantly forgettable clap-trap. For future reference, write out actual stanzas, with actual thoughts, and see where that takes you.
Best,
Brad
Hmm.. I'm not too sure.
I like how you make out the chold to be of innocence and like your use of words to put across this point.
But your structure confuses me a little and I wonder whether or not you should change it. I don't agree with you not uses capital letter but I also like how this poem somewhat flows without a structure.
=]
Lovely, lovely, lovely! But please do take the suggestions on punctuation and capital letters, as omitting them makes this look sloppy, and that's a shame since it's so beautiful.
I think "But do not worry" down to "always be able to play" are weak lines, and I would suggest reworking them. Also, Fireweed makes some good points about imagery.
I loved "daughter of the moonlight", and "unblemished, unstained, uncorrupted."
The last two lines were great.
Okay, for the first thing, I <3 pianos and I liked the poem. I think there could be some edits made for clarity and such and so forth - and I agree with the "it-needs-more-imagery" comment.
That's just my suggestions on punctuation - I'm not the best at poetry, so don't go by everything I say, but I definitely think you need something there. And I loved the concept - as I said before, I adore pianos.
~Luna~
This definitely has potential... I think if you made the edits Meep suggested and added some stronger imagery, it would easily become a much more powerful piece.
Remember: Show, don't tell. More imagery would improve this so much. Put us there, make us hear the piano's music, feel the vibrations, see the pianist's calloused hands on the ivory keys, etc.
I loved this part:
"play on your gleaming
white piano
unblemished
unstained
uncorrupted
pure and clean
unlike you."
This is poem is good, and I think can be better. Keep writing!
You've caught me in an editing mood.
The first thing I did was edit in some paragraph breaks; it seems really long winded without without them, even though it's not actually very long. I switched some stuff around, but of course, you can take it or leave it. Plus, if you wanna know why I made the changes I made, feel free to ask.
I'm not sure how to approach capitalization and line breaks. I've added some capitals at the beginning of (what I divided into) sentences, but I'm not sure what to do with the other lines; I would indent them, but I don't know how technically correct that is.
Which reminds me: There's an article right here on YWS, by our very own Claudette, about poetry & punctuation. I'd recommend you read it, because there was no punctuation.
I left a little note next to "can play no longer." This would be the perfect time for a little imagery. Why can't she play any longer? (I thought perhaps she was bleeding, from playing so long, but can you do that on a piano? Maybe they're broken, or just very, very sore.) Try to work in a reason she can't play any more.
I cut out the last paragraph because I thought it took away from the poem. I think the last two lines that I left bring some sort of closure to the poem, but the rest opens it back up again, and not in a good way.
I didn't like how you're saying that she will never stop playing, will always be able to, etc., etc., ad nauseam when the poem already spoke of her playing until she couldn't any more. It messes with the internal logic of the story.
Now, a compliment for reading all of that: I love the "gleaming white piano."