Affixed on the flame, Of an old beeswax candle,
atop a silver tray, adorned with a filigree handle.
I stare hard and feel my eyes begin to burn,
Entranced by my dry smoldering pain, the mind begins to churn.
Thinking of life, the pain, and the stories that will be told.
stories well known, centuries of old.
I sat there for hours watching the flame,
until the flittering light, of that old beeswax candle,
stopped at the silver tray, with the filigree handle.
As I direct my attention elsewhere, I smile at an object with a familiar tone,
atop my piano sit mothers, beloved metronome.
So I sit at my piano, caressing those time worn keys,
listening to the sound of a heartbeat, that the metronome sings.
Reminiscing of the days before i was grown,
Before I was this monster cold and alone.
Back when mother would play the piano ,On a Erard baby grand,
While father and I stood near listening, Holding hand in hand.
We were truly a happy family, before the blood feast started,
now I'm left here for eternity, morning my dearly departed.
I remember the day so vividly, I was reading "A Midsummer's Night Dream".
When my ear caught the sound, of my mother's deathly scream.
My mother and father, they both lay emptied on the floor,
gazing across the room, i saw a dark figure at the door.
I knew right then and there, that my time had come to expire,
The figure I saw was a bent, pale, and old vampire.
Trembling in fear, I called out to the monster,
"Kill me now, I've nothing left to lose!"
To which he quietly replied,
"no my child, I've different plans for you".
-the metranome
(05-26-2013, 04:47 AM)Ryan_w_r Wrote: [ -> ]Affixed on the flame, Of an old beeswax candle, -- Good detail on the candle
atop a silver tray, adorned with a filigree handle.
I stare hard and feel my eyes begin to burn,
Entranced by my pain, the mind begins to churn. -What does the pain feel like?
Thinking of life, the pain, and the stories that will be told.
stories well known, stories, centuries of old. --This rhyme seems unnatural
I sat there for hours watching the flame,
until the flittering light, of that old beeswax candle,
stopped at the silver tray, with the filigree handle. -
As I direct my attention elsewhere, I smile at an object with a familiar tone,
atop my piano sit mothers, beloved metronome. - some good assonance here.
So I sit at my piano, caressing those ivory keys, - ivory keys is a cliche use with caution
listening to the familiar song, that the metronome sings. - What are the details on this song of the metronome
Reminiscing of the days before i was grown,
Before I was this monster cold and alone.
Back when mother would play the piano ,On a Erard baby grand,
While father and I stood near listening, Holding hand in hand.
We were truly a happy family, before the blood feast started,
now I'm left here for eternity, morning my dearly departed.
I remember the day so vividly, I was reading "A Midsummer's Night Dream".
When my ear caught the sound, of my mother's deathly scream.
My mother and father, they both lay emptied on the floor,
gazing across the room, i saw a dark figure at the door.
I knew right then and there, that my time had come to expire,
The figure I saw was a bent, pale, and old.. vampire.
Trembling in fear, I called out to the monster, - I'm weary of vampires but I'll try to keep an open mind.
"Kill me now, I've nothing left to lose!"
To which he quietly replied,
"no my child, I've different plans for you".
he took me away to his castle, built of blood, pain, and fear.
The only comfort i felt, was in allowing me to bring mothers beloved metronome here.
I find myself again, sitting at my piano,
In love with the song that the metronome sing,
In front of me, my life dangling by a string,
attached to the tip, of that pendulum swing.
Saddened by the thoughts of the lives I could not save,
I picked up the metronome and went to visit their gave.
Standing at my mothers headstone, i want nothing more then to cry,
But can't, I'am empty, there is nothing left inside.
So i put the metronome down, and say a brief preyer. -- Is this supposed to be a pun?
remembering the day she was taken, my midsummers nightmare. -- I would get rid of the midsummers nightmare it sounds like a bad movie. There is a bit of elitism in me I suppose
-the metranome
The metronome is an interesting image to work with. You present us with vampires but to your favor you do try to humanize the creatures. Consider looking into meter if you are interested in making poems that flow and rhyme very well. When you have to strain your language to rhyme (and I have done this) it makes the poem sound cheesey. My two cents...
(05-26-2013, 07:13 AM)Brownlie Wrote: [ -> ] (05-26-2013, 04:47 AM)Ryan_w_r Wrote: [ -> ]Affixed on the flame, Of an old beeswax candle, -- Good detail on the candle
atop a silver tray, adorned with a filigree handle.
I stare hard and feel my eyes begin to burn,
Entranced by my pain, the mind begins to churn. -What does the pain feel like?
Thinking of life, the pain, and the stories that will be told.
stories well known, stories, centuries of old. --This rhyme seems unnatural
I sat there for hours watching the flame,
until the flittering light, of that old beeswax candle,
stopped at the silver tray, with the filigree handle. -
As I direct my attention elsewhere, I smile at an object with a familiar tone,
atop my piano sit mothers, beloved metronome. - some good assonance here.
So I sit at my piano, caressing those ivory keys, - ivory keys is a cliche use with caution
listening to the familiar song, that the metronome sings. - What are the details on this song of the metronome
Reminiscing of the days before i was grown,
Before I was this monster cold and alone.
Back when mother would play the piano ,On a Erard baby grand,
While father and I stood near listening, Holding hand in hand.
We were truly a happy family, before the blood feast started,
now I'm left here for eternity, morning my dearly departed.
I remember the day so vividly, I was reading "A Midsummer's Night Dream".
When my ear caught the sound, of my mother's deathly scream.
My mother and father, they both lay emptied on the floor,
gazing across the room, i saw a dark figure at the door.
I knew right then and there, that my time had come to expire,
The figure I saw was a bent, pale, and old.. vampire.
Trembling in fear, I called out to the monster, - I'm weary of vampires but I'll try to keep an open mind.
"Kill me now, I've nothing left to lose!"
To which he quietly replied,
"no my child, I've different plans for you".
he took me away to his castle, built of blood, pain, and fear.
The only comfort i felt, was in allowing me to bring mothers beloved metronome here.
I find myself again, sitting at my piano,
In love with the song that the metronome sing,
In front of me, my life dangling by a string,
attached to the tip, of that pendulum swing.
Saddened by the thoughts of the lives I could not save,
I picked up the metronome and went to visit their gave.
Standing at my mothers headstone, i want nothing more then to cry,
But can't, I'am empty, there is nothing left inside.
So i put the metronome down, and say a brief preyer. -- Is this supposed to be a pun?
remembering the day she was taken, my midsummers nightmare. -- I would get rid of the midsummers nightmare it sounds like a bad movie. There is a bit of elitism in me I suppose
-the metranome
The metronome is an interesting image to work with. You present us with vampires but to your favor you do try to humanize the creatures. Consider looking into meter if you are interested in making poems that flow and rhyme very well. When you have to strain your language to rhyme (and I have done this) it makes the poem sound cheesey. My two cents...
I appreciate you reading.. And your comments as well! And you are correct, as far as wanting things to rhyme you are limited to what you can put into your text. I enjoy this aspect and find it to be challenging. I agree about needing to look deeper in to my meter (funny enough the poem is about a metronome) everyone seems to tell me my meter is off. When I read it aloud it makes sense and sounds good to me. Also... I know everyone is tired of vamipres by now. To be honest I had no entention of writing about a vampire.. It just turned out that was as the story progressed.
(05-26-2013, 07:13 AM)Brownlie Wrote: [ -> ] (05-26-2013, 04:47 AM)Ryan_w_r Wrote: [ -> ]Affixed on the flame, Of an old beeswax candle, -- Good detail on the candle
atop a silver tray, adorned with a filigree handle.
I stare hard and feel my eyes begin to burn,
Entranced by my pain, the mind begins to churn. -What does the pain feel like?
Thinking of life, the pain, and the stories that will be told.
stories well known, stories, centuries of old. --This rhyme seems unnatural
I sat there for hours watching the flame,
until the flittering light, of that old beeswax candle,
stopped at the silver tray, with the filigree handle. -
As I direct my attention elsewhere, I smile at an object with a familiar tone,
atop my piano sit mothers, beloved metronome. - some good assonance here.
So I sit at my piano, caressing those ivory keys, - ivory keys is a cliche use with caution
listening to the familiar song, that the metronome sings. - What are the details on this song of the metronome
Reminiscing of the days before i was grown,
Before I was this monster cold and alone.
Back when mother would play the piano ,On a Erard baby grand,
While father and I stood near listening, Holding hand in hand.
We were truly a happy family, before the blood feast started,
now I'm left here for eternity, morning my dearly departed.
I remember the day so vividly, I was reading "A Midsummer's Night Dream".
When my ear caught the sound, of my mother's deathly scream.
My mother and father, they both lay emptied on the floor,
gazing across the room, i saw a dark figure at the door.
I knew right then and there, that my time had come to expire,
The figure I saw was a bent, pale, and old.. vampire.
Trembling in fear, I called out to the monster, - I'm weary of vampires but I'll try to keep an open mind.
"Kill me now, I've nothing left to lose!"
To which he quietly replied,
"no my child, I've different plans for you".
he took me away to his castle, built of blood, pain, and fear.
The only comfort i felt, was in allowing me to bring mothers beloved metronome here.
I find myself again, sitting at my piano,
In love with the song that the metronome sing,
In front of me, my life dangling by a string,
attached to the tip, of that pendulum swing.
Saddened by the thoughts of the lives I could not save,
I picked up the metronome and went to visit their gave.
Standing at my mothers headstone, i want nothing more then to cry,
But can't, I'am empty, there is nothing left inside.
So i put the metronome down, and say a brief preyer. -- Is this supposed to be a pun?
remembering the day she was taken, my midsummers nightmare. -- I would get rid of the midsummers nightmare it sounds like a bad movie. There is a bit of elitism in me I suppose
-the metranome
The metronome is an interesting image to work with. You present us with vampires but to your favor you do try to humanize the creatures. Consider looking into meter if you are interested in making poems that flow and rhyme very well. When you have to strain your language to rhyme (and I have done this) it makes the poem sound cheesey. My two cents...
I edited everything you mentioned.. Other than the "midsummer's nightmare" sorry haha couldn't do it.. Thanks again I like it more now.
Hi Ryan, quite an atmospheric piece you have crafted, for ME though the poem ends at "no my child, I've different plans for you". everything else comes across as rather verbose, let your readers imagination run riot, they'll enjoy it
(05-27-2013, 06:42 AM)saeity Wrote: [ -> ]Hi Ryan, quite an atmospheric piece you have crafted, for ME though the poem ends at "no my child, I've different plans for you". everything else comes across as rather verbose, let your readers imagination run riot, they'll enjoy it
Hmmm.... I like that idea.. Thanks for the input and thank you for reading!
You are completely correct!! I just re read it to where you said it should end and it is much better to me! I guess the thought had never crossed my mind to leave it unfinished and allow the reader to decide where to take it. Thank you!
I very much enjoyed it, and think your first stanza is good, pretty solid indeed.
Up until 'before the blood feast started' I felt a sense of atmosphere, but after that the story was shattered for me. I didn't really feel anything for the characters. The rhyme becomes unnatural and almost fake sounding. I understand the story, but I didn't feel any build in tension - that would then have the effect you're looking for. How did the character feel when they saw their dead parents? I find it unnecessarily dismissed. Almost like 'Oh, they're dead on the floor. Anyway..."
Although I can see you've already done a pretty major edit, I'd consider playing around with two ideas I had:
1. Perhaps write in trochaic meter? It sounds like a metronome ticking, it'd strengthen it up a bit. I know that would mean practically re-writing what you've put, but it's perhaps something to consider trying with a few lines and seeing if it works.
2. Writing the second stanza from the perspective of the vampire - it would introduce it's character more, and seems like a pretty fresh view on how to do things.
I've realised how much I've written now, I will stop writing :-P