I'm somebody who plays the piano... sometimes.
quote by Harold Budd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For All Pianos All Around The World
pi
piano
piano use
piano key
piano roll
piano wire
piano note
pianoforte
piano store
piano pedal
piano bench
piano effect
piano sound
piano string
piano mover
piano maker
piano music
piano action
piano player
piano lesson
piano design
piano course
piano soloist
piano tuning
piano recital
piano replica
piano sonata
piano rhythm
piano sample
piano teacher
piano program
piano concerto
piano repertoire
piano brand name
anno piano twenty twelve
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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The Old Paino
The old piano plays the same tune over and over again.
Why you say? Its because it's my tune no one else's! Why you want to change it? Its because I know I can!
I don't want anything to change on this old broken piano!
I don't want nothing to change it's because its stronger than you think! I beg you please don't change it!
That song is more powerful than you think! Please don't change anything! I love the way it plays so please don't leave me and say good bye! I feel lost with out you but I know it's time to say okay and let you go...
poem by Jessica Howard
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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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His Special Song
one's mood
the bars
on the piano
for outlets
one's temper
the pedal
to control its
intensity
from low to
high notes
from joy
happiness
sadness
despair
to pure
estacy
the world
plays on
the human
heart, organic
piano for
the man's
special song
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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a Thought....
There is a lady by the lake
She plays the Piano
At night sadly
The moon listens and remembers
Just like any abandoned lover
A song
Learned by the Heart
and Until
Now is never forgotten
The notes from the Piano
Swim in the Lake like some fishes
Wishing to be stars....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Music To Burn
He writes so many sheets of music,
Ideas bouncing around his head,
But financial times are hard,
And he has music to burn,
He needs those keys just right,
He needs to know what he is doing,
And not just rely on blind instinct,
Because he needs this money,
That only a musical score can make,
And ideas are something that he will take,
So he starts writing,
Thinking about the stars who will sing,
His melody that will be in history,
That will be popular with the public,
For this is how he makes his living,
He can't afford not to have ideas,
So he needs his muse,
A muse that won't leave him,
Burning his music in frustration,
He just needs a key and the right note,
To make his song a song everyone will love,
So he puts down this pen,
And retreats to his piano,
Then he pictures a violin and plays,
The piano turns into magic beneath his fingers,
The melody flowing from his mind,
And intuition and instinct stop him being blind,
And he plays and plays, writing on his music sheet,
And knows his muse has not yet deserted him,
And will, at least, make this song a success,
With music he doesn't need to burn.
poem by Paula Glynn
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It is as if she is lost
It is as if she is lost,
while on the piano she plays a fugue
and sick of arguing feeling like a rogue
she plays on as if she’s at an outpost
where living cost
do not matter and every colleague
do not scatter away, as if she has the plague
and she’s near to the end, almost
finished, when the phone starts to ring,
with its consistency shattering her peace
and she answers and listens to the chattering,
looking through the window to find quick release
from the building tension, she notices that it’s spring
and the voice trails on and on, like a spreading disease.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I happen to be a guy who also plays the piano and sings, so people automatically associate me with Billy Joel.
quote by Gavin DeGraw
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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The way it works: The orchestra plays a few selections of its own and I terminate the first part of the programme on piano, usually with a movement from a Mozart concerto.
quote by George Shearing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely Dancefloor
The Pangs of death
Shroud me in mystery
I am so lonely
Left to dance alone
as always as myself
And that's dangerous
Seeing the fangs
of loneliness To me
It's too much, So
I am ding inside
In my brain
and in my soul
it is like you see me
On A Lonely dancefloor
dancing to the maestro
of the sad Lonely music
that rings to blacken me
within my heart
the bells of loneliness toll
I am losing the will to live
I still dance alone, on the
Maestro's Lonely Dancefloor
at Least untill you save my
Lonely, heart and soul
A Sad sour Violin plays
with sour and sadding piano
song, The lonely Waltz is
Playing, until you save me
Get me out this lonely place
Or the Lonely sour Flute will play
I cry the moment this
sad symphony plays
The sad violins, Piano,
Flutes and Piccolos
Play the sting of lonely
defeat, I want you, Near me, when it does.
Get me out this music hall of sadness
And into the cheerful Lad of the living
Spare from the death of it all
My Heart and soul, forever more
I only want your friendship
So I may happily dance again/
poem by Ashleigh Leona Mellon
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The Poetry At Night Time And Beethoven's Piano Music
this is like playing the piano pieces
at night when everyone in the neighborhood is already sleeping,
they wonder if there is a ghost in this house
someone that cannot accept death someone that claims
an unfinished business
still roaming in limbo and plays the piano at night
they are all disturbed and will close their windows earlier
turn off the lights and retreat inside their thick blankets
the piano is heard and it is playing some pieces of Beethoven
the story of his death...
it is not the same with your poetry
all night long, you write, and there is no stopping and the neighbors think
that everything is all right
that the lights are on because there is a baby in the house
it is you that sob silently inside the limbo of your dreams
that refuse to die
roaming the streets at night
breathing the cold in the darkness
the following morning, nothing is changed
the neighbors as usual do their normal activities
the street is heavy with traffic
people are busy chasing the hours
and there is no stopping anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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1.0ne most beautiful Song
a bird in the tree sings
one most beautiful song
is it his ode to the world?
or is it a symphony nature
plays through one brilliant piano
it has fashioned and held close
to its fingers and heart?
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Symphony In Blue
I spent a lot of my time looking at blue,
The colour of my room and my mood:
Blue on the walls, blue out of my mouth;
The sort of blue between clouds, when the sun comes out,
The sort of blue in those eyes you get hung up about.
When that feeling of meaninglessness sets in,
Go blowing my mind on god:
The light in the dark, with the neon arms,
The meek he seeks, the beast he calms,
The head of the good soul department.
I see myself suddenly
On the piano, as a melody.
My terrible fear of dying
No longer plays with me,
For now I know that Im needed
For the symphony.
I associate love with red,
The colour of my heart when shes dead;
Red in my mind when the jealousy flies,
Red in my eyes from emotional ties,
Manipulation, the danger signs.
The more I think about sex, the better it gets.
Here we have a purpose in life:
Good for the blood circulation,
Good for releasing the tension,
The root of our reincarnations.
I see myself suddenly
On the piano, as a melody.
My terrible fear of dying
No longer plays with me,
For now I know that Im needed
For the symphony.
I spent a lot of my time looking at blue--
No wonder that I blue it!
song performed by by Kate Bush
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
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The Piano Tuner’s Wife
That note comes clear, like water running clear,
Then the next higher note, and up and up
And more and more, with now and then a chord,
The highest notes like tapping a tile with a hammer,
Now and again an arpeggio, a theme
As if the keyboard spoke to the one key,
Saying, No interval is exactly true,
And the note whines slightly and then truly sings.
She sits on the sofa reading a book she has brought,
A ray of sunlight on her white hair.
She is here because he is blind. She drives.
It is almost a platitude to say
That she leads him from piano to piano.
And this continues for about an hour,
Building bridges from both sides of the void,
Coasting the chasms of the harmonies.
And in conclusion,
When there is no more audible dissent,
He plays his comprehensive keyboard song,
The loud proud paradigm,
The one work of art without content.
poem by Karl Shapiro
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I Keep Goin Back To Joes
(fisher/segal)
I keep goin back to joes
To that table in the corner,
Sippin wine and staring at the door.
Our old waiter knows were through,
Still he sets a place for you
Everything the way it was before.
I keep goin back to joes,
But the man who plays piano
Never plays your favorite melody.
Joe keeps busy at the bar,
Never asks me where you are.
He was there when you walked out on me.
Now I pray youll walk back in,
And youll say what fools weve been,
And well celebrate a happy new beginning.
Chances are youll never show,
But youll know just where to find me
Every night until its time to close.
Just in case you miss me, too,
Ill be there to welcome you.
Thats why I keep going back...
Thats why I keep goin back...
To joes.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
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
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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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