My mother played piano so we always had music around the house.
quote by Johnny Winter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For All Pianos All Around The World
pi
piano
piano use
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piano rhythm
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piano teacher
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piano repertoire
piano brand name
anno piano twenty twelve
poem by Nicolas Grenier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Failed Musician
Failed Musician?
My uncle died, he was on holiday in Piraeus when a pig fell off
a balcony, he left a piano and since his wife didn’t want it in her
house, mother took it, only because it would lend an impression
of high culture, and no one else in our neighbourhood had one.
I played on it day and night, picked up tunes on radio and played
them on the piano; people where impressed, mother too, but she
needed her rest worked long hours at a canning factory; one day,
coming home from school, a big empty space, I cried mother gave
me Danish pastry, they were a day old but still tasty. I’m glad she
sold the piano, though I might have ended up a restaurant pianist
driving from town to town playing evergreens as background music
for bored diners
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Piano {Klavier}
They say to me
Open this door
curiosity screams
Whatever could it be
Back behind that door
A piano
The keys are all dusty
The strings are all untuned
Back behind that door
At the piano
But she plays no more
It so long ago
On the piano
She's who I hear
She began to play
She took my breath away
She said to me too
That I'll stay with you
But it just seemed to be
She played alone for me
I poured her blood
On the fire of my rage
I locked up her shrine
They questioned in time
At the piano
She's who I hear
She began to play
She took my breath away
At the piano
I stand by her
But it just seemed to be
She played alone for me
They opened up the door
And how they cried
I heard her mother plea
her father struck out at me
They tore her from her chair
No one believed me there
I was so insane
With the strech and the pain
At the piano
She's who I hear
She began to play
She took my breath away
At the piano
She's who I hear
As I began to play
I took her breath away
song performed by by Rammstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, my sister played trumpet. Can you imagine having a sister blowing the trumpet around the house, Fred? And my brother, he played piano. Everybody was playing some kind of music, so it was natural for me to get into it.
quote by Freddie Hubbard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've written lots of songs on the piano. My mother had a piano and it was the first instrument I played.
quote by Mick Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Old Piano
On a lonely corner of an old house
A permanent feature for a decade
An old piano played the living witness
Of singing and dancing till the wee hours
in the morning
Grandma and Mama made the house turn around
Playing old familiar boogie, waltz and mambo sounds
Kids just played around
Munching goodies, cookies and cakes
Oh, ... those happy days
Seeing that old piano, the living witness
Holding back these tears
But life is what is all about..
poem by Meggie Gultiano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Upright Piano
For as long as I remember, when friday night came round
The family would gather out at grandpas house.
With supper over and the dishes done
It was then the best time came
At an old upright piano that only grandma played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
Grandpa was a stubborn man, they said it was his style.
Grandma called him ornery, but she said it with a smile.
Even he could not disguise the love he felt so strong;
We all could see it in his eyes when she played his favorite song.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
I was almost 17 when my grandma died;
I stayed all night with grandpa; the old man never cried.
He sat at her piano, there was nothing we could say
It was the first time in my life I ever heard my grandpa play.
It wasnt beautiful dreamer or my wild irish rose
It was a song he played from memory & he never missed a note
I sat right there beside him until the morning came
What a friend we have in jesus was the only song he played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song... To Baby Indiana, From Magic Tree
Magic tree make a wish for me,
make it make believe give him back to me magic tree.
You were the light inside of me,
then something made you leave,
before I could hold your hand,
and say hey please stay.
Magic tree make a wish for me,
make it make believe give him back to me magic tree.
No one can tell me,
that you were not meant to be.
just taken away by chance,
till in heaven we will dance;
like it was meant to be.
not by chance;
our souls will meet.
Magic tree make a wish for me,
make it make believe give him back to me magic tree.
*** This is as true as the love in this song: [please read]...
Indiana passed on September 17th.
When my mother came to attend her grandson's funeral, she brought a music box; a gift for Indy. We sat the beautiful carousel music box on the piano. No one had wound it; tears were shed, & in love it was placed by Indiana's photos.
The Christmas after, my mother came to stay & have x-mas dinner.
After we ate I sat at the piano to play this song, for my sweet child at Christmas. As I played, the music box started; it played until THE moment I had finished.
As awestruck as I was, I savored every moment. I cried, & played, & sung my heart out; knowing Indy was with us.
Love you darling*
poem by Meriki Raelene ParkinsonFraser
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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See my father knew a lot about music, he played the piano and he would do theory and stuff like that, but I didn't learn anything from him, but I played that for him and he liked it a lot.
quote by John Fahey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Blues
Hes gonna tell you bout his dear old mother
Burned up in a factory in springfield, mass.
Hes gonna tell you bout his baby brother
Hustlin down the city streets
And selling his ass for a dollar bag
Hes gonna tell you bout his uncle neddy
Locked up in a prison out in oregon
Hes gonna tell you bout his best friend eddie
Killed in a bar fight with a pair of marines
And a sailor
Oh
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it in his music
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it, you can hear it
When I was nine years old
My daddy ran away
With a woman he met on a train, oh
His little boy
Ran to the room
Where his piano
Lay in wait for him
He played and he played
He played and he played
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it, you can hear it
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
A year ago, I met a girl
I thought wed hit a massive groove
But she dumped me
And all wed hit were the blues
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it in his music
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes really got the blues
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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the Joy Of Music
-THE JOY OF MUSIC -
The violin sang so softly
In the hands of this old man
As he sat there on the wooden stool
Bow held gently in his hand.
His wife played grand piano
Sweet music they did make
As from the hard work of the fields
This respite, they would take.
Gentle music of God's praise
They played for all to hear.
The sweetest music in the land
Was falling on God's ear.
They passed along that joyous sound
To children they did bare
The most relaxing trait of all
The gift of music rare.
And now throughout the generations
Which do continue to abound
We hear the perfect notes and glorious songs,
The joy of music does resound.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
2-11-07
By Ms. Caroline
poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Go Dream Fishing
Little girls sleeps,
sleeps in a piano.
With every stir a note is hit,
and every dream a piece of music.
She plays mozart in her nightmares,
her mother, her mother, her mother, her mother.
poem by Ursula De La Mer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Joy Of Music
THE JOY OF MUSIC
The violin sang so softly
In the hands of this old man
As he sat there on the wooden stool
Bow held gently in his hand.
His wife played grand piano
Sweet music they did make
As from the hard work of the fields
This respite, they would take.
Gentle music of God's praises
They played for all to hear.
The sweetest music in the land
Was falling on God's ear.
They passed along this joyous sound
To children they did bare
The most relaxing trait of all
The gift of music rare.
Now throughout the generations
Which do continue to abound
We hear the perfect notes and songs,
The joy of music...does resound.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
2-11-07
By Ms. Caroline
© 2007 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)
poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just This Afternoon
tired the whole day, i stay at the second floor
and lay my body on that
bamboo bed where air is passing through
its plats,
this is a cool mechanism
and i sleep
waking up later, it is already dark
and i hear the sound
of piano music from the other house
of our next door neighbor
it is yann tiersen again on the piano
and i remember this lady you guided the blind man
on such a fast speed like a piano music
on allegro
at the mall, at the center of the mall
where there is so much light
she left him there
wondering: what world is this? who are you?
enough of memories, i go back to you tube
and listen again
it is another yann tiersen, this time
Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain
who i am? i ask such a silly question again.
another attempt at a poem
philosophizing...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I played piano, I learned a lot about music.
quote by Maximilian Schell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandma's Old Piano Was Sold
grandma's piano is old.
she died ten years ago
being the second wife of grandpa.
my mother is her second child
that she sent to piano school
but father found her and married
her when she was still 18.
and i was born as their fourth
child. Mother knows how to play
the moonlight sonata which father
loves to listen at night when
i learn how to smile and laugh.
One day Papa found another woman
whom he said made him new again
and he left Mama.
One day Mama died and Papa married
that woman.
One day i left home.
One day the piano was sold
One day the piano was taken to another
town so far away from us.
One day, all these things, the piano, Papa
and my step mother are forgotten.
But then the Moonlight Sonata comes again
One night
From another piano nearby.
The keys are no longer made
From elephant tusks like grandma's old piano.
Not the off white of ivory.
So white and smooth like a well brushed teeth
of a very young boy.
I like to hear it when he learns
how to gnash.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And I've played piano since I was little, so I was originally the piano player in the band.
quote by Caroline Corr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm quite proud of my piano playing. Robin's never played a note on the piano at our recording sessions. I just wish I could be appreciated musically now.
quote by Maurice Gibb
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day and Night The Piano Played
Day and night the piano played
Never once did the soft notes stray
Over and over on and on they played
During my short stay t
Day and night, night and day
The same soft notes were played
Never did they stray the same notes
Played again and again night and day
The music wandered and wandered
Until with me it stayed
And I began to whistle night and day
The same soft notes over and over
Again and again and again I played
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yes, my mother was a singer, and my father played piano and keyboards. They were in a band together, though they also had regular jobs because they had kids and stuff like that.
quote by Caroline Corr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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