The first time I met Ray, I was going to school around the corner from his house. One day, he was playing the piano. I eased up on the porch to listen to him.
quote by Billy Preston
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
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piano store
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piano design
piano course
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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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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
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I bought a piano once because I had the dream of playing As Time Goes By as some girl's leaning on it drinking a martini. Great image. But none of it worked out. I can't even play Chopsticks. But I've got a nice piano at my house!
quote by George Clooney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I started playing piano with a little band in high school. I was terrible. I thought I had absolutely no talent. I couldn't keep time. I only got into McGill, which was a lousy music school, because they were taking American music students.
quote by Burt Bacharach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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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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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
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Within our culture, every school has a swimming pool. We lived on the coast. People swam in the surf. It's a very sporty nation and at that particular time anyone who had an artistic bent was very much an outsider. So if you liked reading or ideas or playing the piano then your dad viewed you as a sissy, basically.
quote by Geoffrey Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our House
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house it has a crowd
Theres always something happening
And its usually quite loud
Our mum shes so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Something tells you that youve got to get away from it
Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
Shes the one theyre going to miss
In lots of ways
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
I remember way back then when everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how wed play simply waste the day away
Then wed say nothing would come between us two dreamers
Father wears his sunday best
Mothers tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sisters sighing in her sleep
Brothers got a date to keep
He cant hang around
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our ...
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talking to Grief
Ah, Grief, I should not treat you
like a homeless dog
who comes to the back door
for a crust, for a meatless bone.
I should trust you.
I should coax you
into the house and give you
your own corner,
a worn mat to lie on,
your own water dish.
You think I don't know you've been living
under my porch.
You long for your real place to be readied
before winter comes. You need
your name,
your collar and tag. You need
the right to warn off intruders,
to consider
my house your own
and me your person
and yourself
my own dog.
poem by Denise Levertov
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The Black House On The Corner
I passed by that house everday,
wondering what lurked inside of it,
was their some kind of ancient evil inside,
or a normal family that we never saw,
a house of macarbe,
it was painted black like the devil's sin,
it was surrouned by devilish-looking,
figures that stood outside on the line,
was also surrounded by a black pointed fence,
rumors of the devil himself living there,
the devil in the flesh,
satan living on my street corner,
The black house on the corner,
can't you see it,
you must walk past it everyday to,
dosen't your mind wander,
when you walk by The black house,
don't you to know what lays inside of the house,
maybe a ton of dead bodies under the floor boards,
a madman butcherd up his family,
could that be true,
or are our young minds racing again,
with impure and insane thoughts about,
who or what lives in the black house on the corner,
the black house,
painted with the devil's sin,
We were told to stay away from the black house,
that so many evils lived inside of it,
but us being kids we didn't want to live,
we wanted to see what was inside of the black house on the corner,
But we are to afraid to go forward,
we are to afraid to step through the gate,
and walk up the beaten path to the door bell,
it looks so old and so evil,
The black house on the corner,
we shall never know what evilness,
or what macabre force resides within,
the black house on the corner,
whatever you do,
don't go into the black house on the corner,
stay away from,
the black house on the corner,
it holds so many evils,
the black house on the corner,
poem by Robert Rumery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The School Days are near!
Same shrieking morning alarms,
Same morning fear!
The school days are near, The school days are near!
Sleeping in the bathroom,
From out, Mom shouts, '' DO YOU EVEN HEAR? ''
The school days are near, The school days are near!
So drowsy I am,
Confused, don't know what to wear!
The school days are near, The school days are near!
And entered into the school,
Murmuring silently, '' Oh dear! Oh dear! ''
The school days are near, the school days are near!
And if the first period is Maths,
Not again those equations linear! !
The school days are near, the school days are near!
A look at the load of books,
From the corner of my eye drops a tear!
The school days are near, the school days are near!
Gosh! When will vacations come?
We'll have to wait an year!
The school days are near, the school days are near!
Hoping when we go,
We'll find joy, sheer!
The school days are near, The school days are near! ! : D
poem by HudaM DeGratePoet
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
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School Or Summer
School, work work work
Thats what you do all day
Sitting in a chair looking at the teacher
Who just wrote down more work for you.
All year you wish and count down till the end of school
For summer to come and save you
from drowning in the work teachers have to give you.
Summer comes and saves you just in time like every year
And as you go on and on just playing outside
watch tv and playing games
you start to think and think.
As every dayd gose by you do the same thing over and over.
In the middle of summer you start to count down
but this time to the end of summer and begining of school.
Is summer really better then school?
Or is school really better then summer?
poem by Dawn Gothic
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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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In Too Deep
All that time I was searching, nowhere to run to, it started me
Thinking,
Wondering what I could make of my life, and whod be waiting,
Asking all kinds of questions, to myself, but never finding the answers,
Crying at the top of my voice, and no one listening,
All this time, I still remember everything you said
Theres so much you promised, how could I ever forget.
Listen, you know I love you, but I just cant take this,
You know I love you, but Im playing for keeps,
Although I need you, Im not gonna make this,
You know I want to, but Im in too deep.
So listen, listen to me,
Ooh you must believe me,
I can feel your eyes go thru me,
But I dont know why.
Ooh I know youre going, but I cant believe
Its the way that youre leaving,
Its like we never knew each other at all, it may be my fault,
I gave you too many reasons, being alone, when I didnt want to
I thought youd always be there, I almost believed you,
All this time, I still remember everything you said, oh
Theres so much you promised, how could I ever forget.
Listen, you know I love you, but I just cant take this,
You know I love you, but Im playing for keeps,
Although I need you, Im not gonna make this,
You know I want to, but Im in too deep.
So listen, listen to me,
I can feel your eyes go thru me
It seems Ive spent too long
Only thinking about myself - oh
Now I want to spend my life
Just caring bout somebody else.
Listen, you know I love you, but I just cant take this,
You know I love you, but Im playing for keeps,
Although I need you, Im not gonna make this,
You know I want to, but Im in too deep.
You know I love you, but I just cant take this,
You know I love you, but Im playing for keeps,
Although I need you, Im not gonna make this,
You know I want to, but Im in too deep...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listen To The Rain
(Rain)
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen listen
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen listen
Listen to each drop of rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Whispering secrets in rain (listen listen)
Aaah
Frantically searching for someone to hear
That story be more than it hides
Please don't let go
Can't we stay for a while?
It's just to hard to say goodbye
Listen to the rain
Aa...ah
Listen listen listen listen listen listen to the rain
Weeping
Oo...ooh oooh ooh oo...ooh
Oo...ooh oooh oh oh
Listen (listen) listen (listen)
Listen (listen) listen
I stand alone in the storm (listen listen)
Suddenly sweet words take hold
(Listen listen)
Hurry they stay for you haven't much time
Open your eyes to the love around you
You can feel youre alone
But I'm here still with you
You can do what you dream
Just remember to listen to the rain
oo...ooh oh oh oh oh
ooh ooh oh oh oooh
Listen
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wanted to play piano in restaurants in the south of France. I went there on holiday once and I saw this guy playing in an old tuxedo. He was all disheveled, with a whisky glass on the piano. I thought that was the coolest thing. So what's happened to me with 'Twilight' isn't really what I'd planned.
quote by Robert Pattinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Player Piano
I ate pancakes one night in a Pancake House
Run by a lady my age. She was gay.
When I told her that I came from Pasadena
She laughed and said, "I lived in Pasadena
When Fatty Arbuckle drove the El Molino bus."
I felt that I had met someone from home.
No, not Pasadena, Fatty Arbuckle.
Who's that? Oh, something that we had in common
Like -- like -- the false armistice. Piano rolls.
She told me her house was the first Pancake House
East of the Mississippi, and I showed her
A picture of my grandson. Going home --
Home to the hotel -- I began to hum,
"Smile a while, I bid you sad adieu,
When the clouds roll back I'll come to you."
Let's brush our hair before we go to bed,
I say to the old friend who lives in my mirror.
I remember how I'd brush my mother's hair
Before she bobbed it. How long has it been
Since I hit my funnybone? had a scab on my knee?
Here are Mother and Father in a photograph,
Father's holding me.... They both look so young.
I'm so much older than they are. Look at them,
Two babies with their baby. I don't blame you,
You weren't old enough to know any better;
If I could I'd go back, sit down by you both,
And sign our true armistice: you weren't to blame.
I shut my eyes and there's our living room.
The piano's playing something by Chopin,
And Mother and Father and their little girl
Listen. Look, the keys go down by themselves!
I go over, hold my hands out, play I play --
If only, somehow, I had learned to live!
The three of us sit watching, as my waltz
Plays itself out a half-inch from my fingers.
poem by Randall Jarrell
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