Poetry / Ragtime Refugee (Analysis)

 

The black and white keys sit.

Settled on the antique piano.

A older, slender gentleman pulls a marble bench.

He replies,"Hello, my name is Gippetto."

Like a master and its puppet, his dark digits begin to tango.

The sound of blunt reality begin to fuse to a tender realm, taming a inner beast.

To the climax, falls a dead hault.

Where the 5-beat lets silence seep.

The audience now applauding.

Slowly resurrecting the sound of just one key.

Belting out vibrations!

Pulsating on a fine line of clarity.

By

Patrick Paul Shawver

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kizadeth avatar General Stranger

October 23, 2009

kizadeth

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kizadeth reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

its good although i have to say that i am not really into poetry

nonsensical avatar General Friend

September 28, 2009

nonsensical

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nonsensical reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item
This 218 word review has not been unlocked.
music1358 avatar General Stranger

September 27, 2009

music1358

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music1358 reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

Sorry. this one doesn’t hit me emotionally at all. Just words.  

GreenIguana avatar General Stranger

September 25, 2009

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GreenIguana reviewed Version 1 - Read 100% of the Item

This overall image works well but the writing needs some revision: Keys don’t “sit.” The keys are part of the piano; they don’t sit on top of it. Doesn’t the pianist “pull up” a bench? And could it really be made of marble? Or am I misunderstanding this poem and taking it too literally? Is it about something else or is it about someone playing the piano? “begin to” fuse is unnecessary; just say “fuse.” “Taming an inner beast” sounds clicheed. “To the climax, falls a dead hault” doesn’t make sense. Do you mean that the climas IS a dead halt?

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Patrick14 avatar

Patrick14

Age: 24
Loc: Ballston Spa, NY
Gen: M
Last Login: October 28
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