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Music That Cannot Exist (Free verse) by Fetylum
"Have you heard the music that cannot exist?" A kid walked up and said to me, "Do you know who you wanna be?" Blue butterflies smashed on windowshields. "Can you please do this for me?" It's all over you now, "Can I borrow your pencil?" Now jump on through my windowshield, Smash into my steering wheel and we can crash into my homey cliffside. "Do do you know where you are?" Nodding along with two other sets of eyes, to music that cannot exist. Rolling over roads unseen, frozen expressions through blurry scenes. "Can you, be the one," Cars dancing through the rain's simplicity, "to tell me where I am?" Driving through the crowded sidewalks, "Press X!" Twenty points will get you fifty years. Don't fall off my homey cliffside, "Don't burp in class please." Spinning turns to make rubber fields, bobbing our heads to music that cannot exist. "You can't because you don't," Speeding over railways, gravel shots and red blue marks, "That will be twenty-two sixty.." Jumping cars, our three total forms bounce mightily. "Want to drive me home tonight?" And now we drive from the silver headlight. "Don't..smoke..crack..." Blurry is all, speeding along, our triple forms moving side to side as we bob our heads to music that cannot exist. "Why aren't you asleep?" High shrieks raise, black marked circles appearing from our spinning tires. "You're a disease, you no longer can please! LEAVE!" Windshield wipers and rain, flicking away smashed blue butterflies. "Maam?" Steam rolling up, cracks in the windshield unseen, flashlights and blurry faces skipping through, "Are you ok?" Our three sets of bodies dancing about, hands tapping on the steering wheel and seats, bobbing our heads to music that cannot exist. "Can you hear me?" Singing as we slide, dancing through the rain as we tap the steering wheel and seats, moving from side to side, eyes wide shut as we bob our heads to music that cannot exist. Dragged from the car to the black and white car that really did exist. We kept staring in oblique shock as we are pushed into the black seats that really, do, exist. "What were you guys thinking..?" Roaring rears up, the engine soars out, speeding on wet streets. Private authority touches the dial, smashing a blue butterfly on the windshield. "Stop them!" Shouted another outside our new auto. Screeching through steam as our eyes set to gleams, "Press Alt-F4," Our four sets of bodies dancing about, hands tapping on the steering wheel and seats. Bobbing our heads, to music that cannot exist.

Up the ladder: Pantoum
Down the ladder: Found Lost

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Arithmetic Mean: 5.5
Weighted score: 5.134471
Overall Rank: 5554
Posted: December 16, 2002 10:00 AM PST; Last modified: December 16, 2002 10:00 AM PST
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Comments:
[7] nentwined @ 66.92.183.34 | 16-Dec-02/10:36 AM | Reply
this is definitely strange, and makes me want to add a "comments from the author" section so folks can get what you're trying to say and give better feedback.

I really like the "plot" of this piece, and I like the device of interpersing dialog. Some of the images are a bit obscure for me to get, though it can be argued that that's a desirable thing.
[n/a] Fetylum @ 64.164.39.43 > nentwined | 16-Dec-02/10:46 AM | Reply
The music that cannot exist, is exactly how it sounds. You know those songs that you just -have- to dance to. You can't totally control yourself? The music that cannot exist, it overtakes you entirely in some form or another, (I plan writing many different version of the song/poem). In this poem, I am in the drivers seat, two others -two other sets of eyes-, also in the car. As the music that cannot exist plays, it totally engulfs us, flashing away all our cares and worries. Quotes like, "You can't because you don't," refers to the things in life..you just wouldn't do. But with the music, all that falls away.

We pretty much, drive chaotically about, through meadows, streets, sidewalks, etcetera.. 'press X' -twenty points will give you 50 years- (Twisted Metal thing..You run people over and get points -_-) Well, sooner or later, we crash. But the music doesn't stop. The cops come and so forth. He takes us out of the car, and we are more or less stunned and confused, blank really. He puts us into his car, starts the car and turns on the radio. The music that cannot exist starts again.. And the process starts all over again.

So that about explains some of it...
[7] nentwined @ 66.92.183.34 > Fetylum | 16-Dec-02/10:52 AM | Reply
that's one way to do it. :) thank you for posting this to poemranker, btw, and I hope it serves you well.
[8] <{Baba^Yaga}> @ 24.126.113.154 | 16-Dec-02/2:39 PM | Reply
"to music that cannot exist" is the only worth while quote in i would suggest making

"Our four sets of bodies dancing about, hands tapping on the steering
wheel and seats. Bobbing our heads, to music that cannot exist." the whole poem, but that's impossible isn't it cuz that would just ruin your point now wouldn't it. "press alt 4" what the fuck does that mean? oh wait...wait...i..almost..oh ha1ha!ha! NO.
[n/a] Fetylum @ 64.172.150.210 > <{Baba^Yaga}> | 16-Dec-02/5:52 PM | Reply
If anyone did press Alt-F4, I would probably die. Keep in mind that while the music that cannot exist is playing, the quotations and such are some of the problems..worries..cares..and random things that is thrown from ones mind while the music is playing. Oyoy.
[8] <{Baba^Yaga}> @ 24.126.113.154 | 16-Dec-02/2:45 PM | Reply
my homey? cliffside i'm guessing your either english young and searching for an identity, or american and a savant, autistic..a bit sharp and dull..the appropriate term is me homie, spleefton.
[n/a] Fetylum @ 64.172.150.210 > <{Baba^Yaga}> | 16-Dec-02/5:50 PM | Reply
Goodness...I knew that sounded off. I wrote this at the height of my insomnia, so do please forgive that horridly upstate error.
[8] Ranger @ 212.219.142.161 | 17-Dec-02/1:19 AM | Reply
And there was me thinking this was all about acid.
[n/a] Fetylum @ 64.172.150.210 > Ranger | 17-Dec-02/1:42 AM | Reply
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm...

Nope. But, I wonder how it would be for someone on acid to read it? X.x
[8] Ranger @ 62.252.32.15 | 11-Oct-06/3:13 AM | Reply
I vaguely remember reading this years ago. The blue butterflies seem to be blue flashing lights on the windscreen. Maybe your heads are bobbing in time with the sirens? Having set it up with 'Don't smoke crack' this could be a computer game that appears totally real at the time. 'Homey cliffside'? I don't get that, maybe it's more American than I'm used to.
Could do with some of the commas disappearing, but this was a pretty fun read :-)
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