An interesting aspect to writing poetry is that we seem to become kind of proud of it. Perhaps it's because of all the time that went into it, or perhaps we just like how it sounds when read aloud. Poetry needs to be shared. As I assume most high schoolers do, I had to write a poem for a literature class, and even though I'm a reluctant writer, I did feel a sense of accomplishment upon it's completion. I'm not saying it's any good or anything, in fact I still cringe when I hear the name I chose for the main character; the whole thing is so corny! Take it with a grain of salt, more ready to laugh than to critique, for I'm sure it won't stand under any detailed review. I'm quite hesistant to even put it up!
Let's just say I thought it was a lot better when I first wrote it two years ago than I do now!
If possible, before you read it, listen to a recording of Rachmaninoff's second piano concerto, the third movement, which was my inspiration for the poem. Actually, you could even listen and read it at the same time; the meter actually lines up pretty well with the music. Hopefully you will be able to hear the emotion of the different themes as they play in an out, and perhaps the corny story will make you appreciate this absolutely wonderful piece a little more.
Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2, Movement 3
Overture:
War
Was in the air
Was on everyone’s lips
Was what the young men wanted
But through memories past, and battle-scars present, the old men it haunted.
Love
Was in the air
Was on everyone’s lips
Was what the young men wanted
But enemies they were, love and war, and would neither one be daunted.
Theme One:
Ivan, a school boy of only eighteen,
Enticed by the glamour of battles unseen,
And soldiers who out on the streets would preen
And twirl, and hop, and march smartly between,
Resolved secretly to join them, lest his parents intervene.
His only regret was the girl that he left:
To Yulia his marching could be the most deft,
Yet it could not encourage, only bring her distress.
She would not be cheered by how much he could heft;
Instead she just sat there and wept and wept.
Theme Two:
He took Yulia to a ball that night.
She was dazzlingly radiant, dressed all in white.
Her tears were all wiped away from her face.
Of the melancholy that morning there was not a trace.
She showed great resolve when she stepped on the floor,
And danced as faultlessly as ever before
She showed not her emotion ‘till they stepped out the door,
But finally all her love, worry, hope, and fear she did pour.
Yet all her wistful words could not reverse what Ivan had done,
And the couple said their last goodbyes as up rose the sun.
That very same morning Ivan boarded the train
That would bear him away through the drizzling rain.
So he embarked on his adventure, an experiment in war,
An education in manhood, not only in gore.
Ivan soon was fighting, battling day after day
And learned much about life, on the front line of the fray.
He fought with great courage, with all of his heart,
And showed unsurpassed valor, when forward they would dart.
He watched countless men die, yet was not hardened by grief.
He understood how life was fragile as a leaf.
As his encounters with death grew, so did his value of life,
And Ivan knew a growing persuasion to make Yulia his wife.
Theme Three:
It’s been a year
Since you’ve been near
And all I’ve thought is Ivan.
I never knew
I’d love just you
‘Till all I thought was Ivan.
I remember when
We danced back then
When all I think is Ivan.
And now I yearn
For your return
And all I think is Ivan.
I see us dance
See you advance
While all I think is Ivan.
I curtsey now
And then you bow
While all I see is Ivan.
I hear your voice
My heart rejoice!
Is that truly my Ivan?
I dream, I must!
What can I trust?
Does downstairs stand my Ivan?
I take a look
My heart, it shook.
Before me stands me Ivan!
I run to you
As if on cue
Am scooped up by my Ivan.
We dance around
Our lovers found
And all I think is Ivan.
I look at you,
You have aged too,
But you are still my Ivan.
I watch you bring
Out wedding rings,
The answer’s Yes, my Ivan!
