Quixote on the Sphere

[qimissung]

Will you be Quixote on the sphere,
Walking with your steed and your lance
To right a wrong, make a friend, and love a girl,
The three of you creating a harmonic rhapsody of song?

Or will you be Bertran, moving to a place that
Never will arrive, your world a chaos theory
Of cold discord, your head swinging at your side,
Alone in a perpetual motion that only divides?

Or, standing at the corner of Hollywood and Vine,
Will you be among the hoard, the host of angels
Dancing on the head of a pin, your beauty, your grace
Infinitesimal, noticed by none, ignored for all time?

Do you hear the morning dove?

[PrinceMyshkin]

There's something about this, as if you had been sitting in the basket beneath a large helium balloon and you just threw the last of the ballast overboard! I had a happy, giddy feeling reading this.

[qimissung]

I love your happy, giddy feelings! Thank you, Prince. :)

[Silas Thorne]

Beautiful, wonderful use of language! :) I can see why you've used the cliche in the last stanza, and I think it works here, as it goes with the hoard right? And I also like the images of the three kinds of spheres.

This poem also provoked me to wonder. I'm thinking to myself these questions: Do we need to be Quixotic to right wrongs and be in love? And do we need to be ignored and nameless if we are neither at the extremes of quixotically romantic or coldly discordant?

Thanks! :)

[kiz_paws]

qimi, beautiful poem. :)
Each verse so carefully constructed, you did a very nice job indeed. :)

[qimissung]

Beautiful, wonderful use of language! :) I can see why you've used the cliche in the last stanza, and I think it works here, as it goes with the hoard right? And I also like the images of the three kinds of spheres.

This poem also provoked me to wonder. I'm thinking to myself these questions: Do we need to be Quixotic to right wrongs and be in love? And do we need to be ignored and nameless if we are neither at the extremes of quixotically romantic or coldly discordant?

Thanks! :)

The message of the poem as a whole, although I prefer leaving it open to interpretation, is how will you choose to live your life? Will you choose to connect, to go forth, try to do something good in the world? Stop limiting your ideas of the word Quixote to Quixotic. It may be an idea we have been used to using, but only you are limiting it to that.

The second part is our darker side, the third encompasses both our desire to be noticed and our desire to blend in with the crowd, our tendency to not draw attention to ourselves, to escape from being held accountable, forgetting there is a price to be paid for that, too.

And if you are in tune with yourself, able to love yourself as you love others, what will come of that? It is to the first stanza that the last rhetorical question is asked, not the third. And, of course there are many shades of gray in between, but I can't write about them all! I had to pick and choose, and this is what I chose. Go and think some more, Silas.

[qimissung]

So I changed the last line, and in actuality it should be mourning dove, not morning dove, but I always hear them in the morning, and what is the connotation of that, class?

[qimissung]

Will you be Quixote on the sphere,
Walking with your steed and your lance
To right a wrong, make a friend, and love a girl, the three
Of you creating a harmonic rhapsody of song?

Or will you be Betram, moving to a place that
Never will arrive, your world a chaos theory
Of cold discord, your head swinging at your side,
Alone in a perpetual motion that only divides?

Or, standing at the corner of Hollywood and Vine,
Will you be among the hoard, the host of angels
Dancing on the head of a pin, your beauty, your grace
Infinitesimal, noticed by none, ignored for all time?

Do you hear the morning dove?


When I wrote this, I was asking "Who will you be?" Our life is made up of a hundred thousand decisions, and one day we wake up and there we are, the sum of those decisons. The question for me is, will we like that person? Is it what we intended? And, it's never to late to start over...

[~Sophia~]

your world a chaos theory
Of cold discord, your head swinging at your side,
Alone in a perpetual motion that only divides?



The whole poem is great but I've got to say, I loved these lines. :thumbs_up