The soprano turned out to sound to me like the right hand on the piano.
quote by Steve Lacy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For All Pianos All Around The World
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anno piano twenty twelve
poem by Nicolas Grenier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love A Piano
[1st verse:]
As a child I went wild when a band played
How I ran to the man when his hand swayed
Clarinets were my pets, and a slide trombone I thought was simply
Divine
But today when they play I could hiss them
Evry bar is a jar to my system
But theres one musical instrument that I call mine
[chorus:]
I love a piano, I love a piano
I love to hear somebody play
Upon a piano, a grand piano
It simply carries me away
I know a fine way to treat a steinway
I love to run my fingers oer the keys, the ivories
And with the pedal I love to meddle
When padarewski comes this way
Im so delighted if Im invited
To hear that long haired genius play
So you can keep your fiddle and your bow
Give me a p-i-a-n-o, oh, oh
I love to stop right beside an upright
Or a high toned baby grand
[2nd verse:]
When a green tetrazine starts to warble
I grow cold as an old piece of marble
I allude to the crude little party singer who dont know when to pause
At her best I detest the soprano
But I run to the one at the piano
I always love the accompniment and thats because
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I hear a lot of bad TV commercials that try to sound like Where It's At. That pretty much turned me off from using the electric piano for a lot of years.
The soprano has all those other instruments in it. It's got the soprano song voice, flute, violin, clarinet, and tenor elements and can even approach the baritone in intensity.
quote by Steve Lacy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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5/4
Magic for me
Magic make no sound
It good for me
It good for me underground
Magic on me
Really got me down
Invade the city
It make my heart beat no sound
Beat no sound
Beat no sound (ooh ooh ooh ooh)
Beat no sound
Beat no sound
Beat no sound (ooh ooh ooh ooh)
And let me tell myself
Tell on
She turned my dad on
She turned my dad on
Dad on
Dad on!!!
Magic for me
Magic get me through
We pledge it money
People seem to walk through you
Magics funny
Magic get me through
All good for me
When people seem to always walk through you
Walk through you
Walk through you (ooh ooh ooh ooh)
Walk through you
Walk through you
Walk through you (ooh ooh ooh ooh)
Walk through you
Walk through you
And let me tell myself
Tell on
She turned my dad on
She turned my dad on
Dad on
Dad on
She made me kill myself
Come on
Come on
She turned my dad on
Come on
She turned my dad on
Come on
She turned my dad on
She turned my dad on
Dad on
Dad on
song performed by by Gorillaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through Paris 1970
As you rode through Paris
in the packed coach
the radio played
Beethoven's Piano Concerto #5
and Mamie
sat beside you
her head to one side
sleeping
her mouth open
like some fish
out of water
her hands tucked
between her thighs
her blue skirt
riding high
and the slow movement
of the Beethoven piece
began
the piano playing softy
as the bright lights
of Paris
lit up
the dull space
inside the coach
and you closed your eyes
laying a hand
surreptiously
over hers
hearing the piano
and orchestra
as if in a dream
and Mamie
never minded
your hand
on hers
or so you thought then
and as now
it would seem.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Story Of The Piano
because his papa
loves her that much
at 12 he gifted her
with a piano,
time passed
there were many
stories told
at 50 she sold the piano
to someone we do not really know
there is no way to redeem
what was lost forever
what we all do not want to remember
we simply let go
at 60 her only trusted friend
is the sunset
her only hope
the long and lasting horizon
so much feelings lost
until finally she turned numb and restive
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How
How can I work when you play the piano,
Feminine person above?
How can I think, with your ceaseless soprano
Singing: 'Ah, Love-'?
How can I dream of a subject aesthetic,
Far from the purlieus of prose?
How, with the call of the peripatetic
'High! High cash clo'es!'?
How can I write when the children are crying?
How can I poetize-how?
How can I help imper_fect_ versifying?
(There is some now.)
How can I bathe in the thought-waves of
beauty?
How, with my nerves on the slant,
Can I perform my poetical duty?
Frankly, I can't.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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I play the piano a lot at home. I write songs on the piano and guitar. I would like to actually play piano on stage. I don't think I'll get the chance for a while.
quote by Mick Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Pianists Heaven
A piano in the background
playing
A pianist in his heaven
in which I shall never step foot
I know no feeling of heaven
nor of a kingdom to believe in
This piano shall be forgotten
but its player will not
He will play his way to his heaven
and shall not be forgotten
nor shall I forget him
nor shall his piano
poem by Andrew Westermann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Replace With A Piano
Rachael for weeks
many months wanted
her own baby sister.
She would
ask every day almost
when would
she have a baby sister.
Then late last weekend
to a new mall we went
explored floors twister.
There we found
a display promotional
new pianos for sale.
Rachael looked
listened sat played
upon piano keys.
Time stopped keys
to sound rhythm excited
merging mind ruptured.
Music appreciation passions
were born hand to mind
excited a four year old soul.
Ability to create notes
instant choice inspirational
rang within mind to soul.
Next day at breakfast Rachael said
"if this family doesn't want
a baby just replace with a piano."
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Medallion
Luini in porcelain!
The grand piano
Utters a profane
Protest with her clear soprano.
The sleek head emerges
From the gold-yellow frock
As Anadyomene in the opening
Pages of Reinach.
Honey-red, closing the face-oval,
A basket-work of braids which seem as if they were
Spun in King Minos' hall
From metal, or intractable amber;
The face-oval beneath the glaze,
Bright in its suave bounding-line, as,
Beneath half-watt rays,
The eyes turn topaz.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Which Way Are You Goin'
Which way are you going, which side will you be on
Will you stand and watch while, all the seeds of hate are sown
Will you stand with those who say, let his will be done
One hand on the bible
One hand on the gun
One hand on the bible
One hand on the gun
Which way are you looking, is it hard to see
Do you say whats wrong for him, is not wrong for me
You walk the streets, righteousness but you refuse to understand
You say you love the baby
Then you crucify the man
You say you love the baby
Then you crucify the man
Everyday, things are changing, words once honored turned to lies
People wondering, can you blame them
Its to far to run, and to late to hide
Now you turn your back on, all the things that you used to preach
Now its let him live in freedom, if he lives like me
Well you light has changed, confusion rains, what have you become
All your olive branches turned to spears
When your flowers turned to guns
Your olive branches turned to spears
When your flowers turned to guns
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music begins to be 'manipulated' the moment it is interpreted by a conductor or a soloist and played by an orchestra in a hall with a specific acoustic. All these factors 'manipulate' music and so does the fact that I ask the oboe please to play more piano. And you are manipulating the orchestra for one reason only: to get the sound you want. In the recording studio you are using the equipment at hand for exactly the same reason.
quote by Herbert von Karajan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Help Me
Tell me how it feels
What you're going though
It's like a little too real
A little too real
Take another breath
Take another day
Get a little sad
Let it fade away
Help me heal
The way you feel
Everything you conceal
Let me see
How it feels
Like a waterfall
You know you can have it all
Take my hand
Help me help you
Help me help you
Help me help you
Help me when you're blue
Make another plan
Feel a different sun
Set another sea
And make it start again
Take another look
Play a different game
Fly a different flag
And throw the past away
Help me heal
The way you feel
Everthing you conceal
Let me see
How it feels
Like a waterfall
You know you can have it all
Take my hand
Help me help you
Help me help you
Help me help you
Help me when you're blue
Help me help you
Help me help you
Help me help you
Help me
Wouldn't that be cool
You will be free someday
The pain will go away
Just leave it in the past
You're already on your way
You know you can have it all
Take my hand
Help me (When you wanna be turned around)
Help you (When you wanna be turned around)
Help me (When you wanna talk some more)
Help you
Help me (When you wanna be turned around)
Help you (When you wanna be turned around)
Help me (When you wanna talk some more)
Wouldn't that be cool
Help me (When you wanna be turned around)
Help you (When you wanna be turned around)
Help me (When you wanna talk some more)
Help you
Help me (When you wanna be turned around)
Help you (When you wanna be turned around)
song performed by by Holly Valance from Footprints
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think any parent that makes their kid sit at a piano against their will and practice, they're going to have a kid that's not going to want to play the piano.
quote by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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