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Literature Text
All you had to do was say hello. Words may not be anymore, but the music of your voice is. I can hear all the notes you play, up and down your vocal cords, up and down my heartstrings.
These are the days when balance is unheard of. Harmony transcends all, and the brazen call of your trumpet voice stands tall and proud over the rest.
My heart sounds like the whole percussion section tried to drown it out, and the timpani is still pounding over it all. It's tattooing a permanent bruise inside my black-and-blue chest. Boom-boom. Boom-boom.
The lull of your gaze. The saxophone croons in the distance. There's more in your eyes than I have ever known. It's getting louder, running through my ears like summer heat. But so much warmer.
The brush of your hand against mine. The clarinet's voice hums, blanketing the-sound-and-the-touch-and-whatever-the-hell-we-are in its comfort. It blurs the lines, it blurs reality, it blurs you and me. All that's left is the clear call of the trumpet and the ever-increasing tempo of the rumbling timpani. Boom-boom-boom-boommm. Boom-boom-won't-your-heart-beat-faster-please-boommm.
And then your lips are on mine and the world explodes. The cymbals are crashing and the clarinets are screaming and the flutes are shrieking, fortissimo, fortissimo, and the timpani is roaring, boomboomboomboomBOOM.
And. The timpani. Stops. Silence.
But. The timpani. Starts up again. Softly. Tentatively. Boom. Boom. Boom-ba…boom?
Pianissimo is overrated.
These are the days when balance is unheard of. Harmony transcends all, and the brazen call of your trumpet voice stands tall and proud over the rest.
My heart sounds like the whole percussion section tried to drown it out, and the timpani is still pounding over it all. It's tattooing a permanent bruise inside my black-and-blue chest. Boom-boom. Boom-boom.
The lull of your gaze. The saxophone croons in the distance. There's more in your eyes than I have ever known. It's getting louder, running through my ears like summer heat. But so much warmer.
The brush of your hand against mine. The clarinet's voice hums, blanketing the-sound-and-the-touch-and-whatever-the-hell-we-are in its comfort. It blurs the lines, it blurs reality, it blurs you and me. All that's left is the clear call of the trumpet and the ever-increasing tempo of the rumbling timpani. Boom-boom-boom-boommm. Boom-boom-won't-your-heart-beat-faster-please-boommm.
And then your lips are on mine and the world explodes. The cymbals are crashing and the clarinets are screaming and the flutes are shrieking, fortissimo, fortissimo, and the timpani is roaring, boomboomboomboomBOOM.
And. The timpani. Stops. Silence.
But. The timpani. Starts up again. Softly. Tentatively. Boom. Boom. Boom-ba…boom?
Pianissimo is overrated.
Literature
You and your...
Your tattered, tasseled clothing,
button eyes without thread,
chewed up, half-painted fingernails,
I love you,
You and your
disfigured sex appeal.
Literature
mirages.
he's a beautiful boy dressed as a nightmare, and he manages to lull everyone into his eyes. tendrils of blood trail after his delicate fingers, and he says he can be taken higher than ever. he holds you as gently as possible, and his skin silently burns alongside yours. something about his kisses tastes not quite right, but when he presses his red, red lips harder against yours, you can't quite focus.
he paints mirages of broken legs and collapsed hearts, draws suns of forgotten dreams and fearsome pulsations. because somehow, he doesn't survive, doesn't live through storms of fire, doesn't end up seeing the light of day. he scratches at the
Literature
shatterglass.
Last summer we watched the moon swallow the sun and you told me violence was romantic. It was 12 in the afternoon but the sky was midnight blue, and as you spoke your hand clenched into claws around my waist. I reached down to hold your wrist but you dropped your hand to your side before I could touch you.
.
I used to think it was impossible to love someone and never really know them, but you took all those illusions when you took my hand. Sometimes we sat opposite each other in starbucks and you faded away, just staring into the sky, your soul stolen to some distant place. Even when you were next to me I could feel the space between us lik
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=StarBoyDeath and I have been challenging ourselves/each other for quite some time now. (Because, let's face it, when do we NOT have a project?) We're challenging each other to write in a different style. The style/theme for this was music. And I've had it mostly done for months now, but it's given me a hell of a lot of trouble. It started out easy- I had a lot of inspiration- but getting the finer points out there was difficult, to say the least. I had a HUGE writer's block on this piece, which evolved into overall writer's block.
I'm not at all sure about it, but I am rather fond of it. Tear it apart for me, I want it to be right.
Others in the challenge:
Not So Honest, Love
Does it flow okay? What about the analogies? What seems weird to you/needs to be fixed?
All other general critique/comments/faves/love is appreciated. (:
I'm not at all sure about it, but I am rather fond of it. Tear it apart for me, I want it to be right.
Others in the challenge:
Not So Honest, Love
Does it flow okay? What about the analogies? What seems weird to you/needs to be fixed?
All other general critique/comments/faves/love is appreciated. (:
© 2010 - 2024 cherrichan13
Comments52
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Overall
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Technique
Impact
I think that this piece of writing, like most, has both good and bad points. The good points are that the theme of music was interpreted in an intriguing way, and although it is at points a bit confusing, overall I think it works. Another good point about the text is that it definitely conveys a sense of increasing intensity: the use of the instruments has allowed you to build up the atmosphere in an abstracted and yet still tangible way.
The bad points about the piece, although some are minor, are obviously still worth pointing out.
The first two sentences seemed to me to contradict each other. “All you had to do was say hello. Words may not be anymore, but the music of your voice is.” – if the voice is being musical, surely something must be being said? Similarly, why did they have to say hello? It doesn’t seem to link to the next sentence particularly, and is also a fairly clichéd phrase.
The next sentence – “I can hear all the notes you play, up and down your vocal cords, up and down my heartstrings.” – also confused me slightly. I know what you intend to communicate, but the way in which the sentence is structured led me to become slightly confused, and I admit I had to read the sentence another time before I properly understood it. I’ve tried thinking of another sentence but to be honest, I don’t think this one is entirely necessary anyway. Certainly, the idea of playing the notes of vocal cords etc. is still one that you can explore, but I think that for me, ‘heartstrings’ immediately leapt out as just a little too corny, so I would recommend removing it.
The phrasing of “My heart sounds like the whole percussion section tried to drown it out” also seems a little awkward. The problem is, it’s unclear exactly what ‘it’ is. There’s also a shift in tense: ‘sounds’ is present tense, whilst ‘tried’ is past tense. This confuses the sentence, although correcting it still won’t completely remove the problem. “My heart sounds like the whole percussion section is trying to drown it out” still sounds a bit odd. The reason for this is that up to this point of the text, musical objects have been directly related to elements of the people. “Music of your voice”, “trumpet voice”. With this sentence, this seems like it could be the intention but then it turns out that actually, the percussion section is separate to the heart. A better phrasing would thus be something like “The whole percussion section plays rapidly to the beat of my heart.” That way, you still have the idea of the heart beating quickly, and the idea of a loud percussion section, but the relation is much clearer.
I’ve already highlighted one or two clichés, but there are several others. I think that’s probably one of the main problems within the text: because it’s confronting the theme of a growing bond between two people which could potentially be love, it immediately opens itself up to a chasm of clichés which, unfortunately, it’s at least dangled its leg into, although it hasn’t quite fallen into it completely. “heart”, “black-and-blue”, “the lull of your gaze”, “there's more in your eyes than I have ever known” and “the brush of your hand against mine” are all fairly clichéd ideas and phrases, which I would recommend you try to rewrite.
Judging by the comments, you’ve already been told a little about the ending. Basically, it’s too fractured. “And. The timpani. Stops. Silence.” could easily be “The timpani stops. Silence.” However, this silence should then be explored in some way. It seems to just stop and then start again within two very short paragraphs. This doesn’t work. There doesn’t seem to be any reason for either of the paragraphs anyway, so if I were you, I would just remove them and after the lips touching paragraph just have the “Pianissimo is overrated”, to give it the impact that it deserves.
The use of the ‘boom’ idea is repeated too often too. “Boom-boom-won't-your-heart-beat-faster-please-boommm.” Seems unnecessary, so I would remove that to help remedy the problem. I also don’t think it works removing the hyphens, or extending the letters on boom, it just makes it slightly harder to read, so I’d recommend editing that a bit.
Overall, I think that although there are obviously flaws, which I’ve tried to focus on, the piece still has a lot of potential. As previously stated, the idea is intriguing and it’s presentation is fairly effective. Hopefully this critique is helpful <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="" title=" (Smile)"/> Please don’t take too much notice of the ratings. If you have any questions or want clarification on anything I've said, I'd be happy to provide it. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/s/s…" width="15" height="15" alt="" title=" (Smile)"/>