If You Were a Guitar
If you were a guitar I would play you
till my fingers grew rough from your body’s
touch, till the moisture in the clouds withdrew
and only music rained on. But what breeze
could retain your voice? At night my hands would
dream new chords of light and air, of pearl and
flesh and warm breath suspended over wood.
And as we slept our bodies would demand
new vowels, and the space would diminish
till nothing lay between us but the blue
groaning above night’s whispers, a finish-
ing touch to this song. When I say love, you
hear morning break. When I say nothing, my
silence shouts your name. Each breath. Every sigh.
***
I first posted a draft of this on Valentine’s Day, 2014, but the first draft was completed some 14 years before that. I’ve admitted to being a slow writer…
Worth waiting for. But I like both! There are a few words in the first draft I wish were still there ~
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I think this version is much closer to being done, but who knows? Working within the constraints of the sonnet form is always fun and challenging.
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I love the sonnet. And any woman would love these words said to her. I could go years on that.
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I believe The Lovely Wife’s comment was “couldn’t you play until your fingers were just a little tender?” Ha!
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How completely beautiful, Bob,
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Thank you, Cate.
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Ooooo, I’m feeling serenaded and seduced 😉 gorgeous
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Then my work is done! Until the next revision.
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Don’t work it to death or you might start hating it!
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There are too many other pieces in process to worry this one to death. 🙂
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What a lovely sonnet, Robert. You touch on feelings beyond images – “only music rained on”, “our bodies would demand new vowels”. I am so glad that you have the tenacity as this is the first version I have seen.
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Thanks, Luanne. I knew it wasn’t done when I posted it two years ago. I looked at it from time to time, but was never satisfied with the changes I made. This week’s revision is at least close!
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I love it as it is. I’ll check its progress in another 10 years or so! (if my strings remain taut!)
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Thank you. I’ll likely have busted my “B” string by then. 🙂
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Re. being a slow writer, Yeats, as almost always, put it best: “A line will take us hours maybe;/ Yet if it does not seem a moment’s thought/ Our sticking and unstitching has been naught.” Cheers.
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So true. I have long resembled the tortoise…
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It was worth the wait
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Thank you, Derrick.
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One of my absolute favorite pieces ever. May I re-blog this if you’re okay with re-blogs? I will not be offended if you don’t prefer them. Belinda
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Feel free to reblog any of my posts, Belinda. Thanks very much!
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Honored to do so!
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Doesn’t every poem read to the reader as if it were just only now written? I didn’t feel the labor of revision in it, which is great; nothing worse than a guitar player who can play all the chords but can’t play the song. With a sonnet you have to be prepared to slur the rules a little, too. Like rhyming a stressed syllable with an unstressed one, or riffing off the iambic pentameter a tad. I like this very much, R–I’m going to say that you haven’t been revising it. You’ve been practicing it, like a song on a guitar. This version sounded like all that practice paid off.
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I thought the previous version was a little forced. It just didn’t feel right. This one feels better. I enjoy “subverting” the sonnet form – hiding rhymes with enjambment and stresses – while remaining true to the idea. And I like the idea of “practicing” a poem. Hadn’t thought of it that way before, but it makes perfect sense.
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This is gorgeous , would love to see what you,d do with a saxophone 🙂
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I’d probably put flowers and water in it, and place them on a table, as I can’t play woodwinds. 🙂
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Ha! Ha! 😀
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Reblogged this on Busy Mind Thinking and commented:
Breathtaking! I had to share.
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Thank you!
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My pleasure. 🙂
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This is lovely. I’m glad you added vowels. They can be such aphrodisiacs.
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But they do get lonely without their consonants.
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Stunningly beautiful!
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Thank you.
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Slow is good.
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Agreed!
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beautiful, said the guitarist!
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Thank you, Nancie.
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Gorgeous and romantic! Bravo for slow writing!
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Thanks, Meg. Some things can’t be rushed…
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Reblogged this on SOUL FIELDS and commented:
Passionate grace…
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Thanks for reblogging.
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My pleasure! 🙂
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This is so beautiful. The length of time between first draft and published poem just makes it even more special. Xx
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Thank you, Kerry. I am, at the very least, persistent. 🙂
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😀
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Wow.
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Thank you. I love sonnets – wrote a lot of them in the 80s, but left them behind. Every now and then one pops out.
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Your iambic pentameter is conversational and seemingly effortless–which I suspect takes a long time to achieve.
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I’m glad it seems that way. I spent several years writing mostly sonnets (nearly all of which were terrible), but the repetition, the sheer number of them, bad or not, was good training.
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Pingback: If You Were a Guitar « buildingapoem
I have always loved the juxtaposing of things we can control and mold, like poetry, with things that we cannot, like nature, especially when writing about love, sex, passion, relationships.
The possibilities are intriguing, exciting, and infinite.
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The merger of the two is infinitely interesting!
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Slow. Perfect!
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Thanks, Leslie. My default is slow, but this one was SLOOOOOOOWWWW.
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Unique and beautiful
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Thank you.
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One poem in a dozen years? Don’t you hear the winged chariot hurrying near?
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Well, there were others during those years. And yes, I hear it. Caught a short ride on it a few years ago…
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Beautiful beyond words! Nothing more need be said!!Warmest always,Ron — Spring Detector of the Northern Hinterlands
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Thank you, Obi-Ron. I miss your haiku, but hope the hinterlands are still pleasing to you.
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Heh, heh–makes me think of Eric Clapton’s nickname: Slowhand.
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Ha! Good one.
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Nice lines. Keep playing ur words if she could be your guitar too. She could ba an inspiration though!
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Thank you.
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Correct” if she could not be your guitar”
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Ah, thanks.
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Wow–sometimes taking your time really works. 🙂
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It does!
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“When I say nothing, my silence shouts your name” … Robert, I have no idea how you can write (and hence play that guitar) so beautifully… this performance is definitely worth the wait.
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Thank you, RR.
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Splendid! And I like that you included the picture of the snail.
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Thanks, Jan. The snail seemed somehow appropriate.
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“And as we slept our bodies would demand new vowels…”
The way you suss out language where the rest of us do not see it!! What a perfect description… and yet I have no idea what it means or describes! But every ounce of my being screams a joyous “Yes!” to it. You are so clearly a genius it does not even register anymore. How can we use a ruler… when you are better measured in atmospheric pressure!
952 stars out of 5 for this poem!
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Ha! I exist much nearer the idiot end of the scale, but am persistent.And thanks, as always, for your kindness.
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I have worked for almost 4 decades in the music industry. I know idiocy, and you are not a participant in it in any shape/form. Excise the part of you that claims idiocy; you have gone beyond… your words are Reality without concept…
Yết đế, yết đế, Ba la yết đế, Ba la tăng yết đế, Bồ đề tát bà ha
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Molasses in January. Nothing wrong with it unless you’re in a hurry. Fermentation. Gestation. Good things take time.
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I do like to marinate things…
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Absolutely worth the wait like a good bottle of wine, which is already destined to be good! Hmmmm … I think I’m going to urge someone to start learning playing guitar! 😉
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Perhaps you might take up an instrument, too. Duets are wonderful!
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Not a bad idea, at all, especially when the instruments would be playing in complete harmony! 😉 This is calling for another lovely poem of yours! 🙂
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And sometimes the occasional dissonant note enhances the harmony.
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The words flow like a beautiful melody. Excellent!
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Thank you, Nick. Much appreciated.
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I love this. A beautiful idea, wrought with great craft.
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You are very kind. Thank you.
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Breathless. Love.
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So pleased you like it. Thank you.
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Dropped by to say thank you for the like. And I found a gorgeous poem. So thank you for a second time.
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You’re very welcome. And thank you for returning the favor.
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Hi Robert,
Seems like your Likes have magnetic qualities, drawing bloggers to discover you – I’m glad I did.
Hope you liked my poem – not just Liked 😉
Looking forward to reading more of yours.
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Hi and thanks for stopping by. I liked your poem, and hope you like mine as well. 🙂
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sounds like practice made perfect…
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