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A dance with Chopin

i hate it when they mangle your
bubbling notes at hotel lobby
cafe, and parks when you have to
give way to the staccatos of stilettos,
tinkering of glasses, chatterings and slurpings
of japanese on their steamy noodles
or two italian men loud about their just
concluded summer holidays
it is like drinking tea with a mix of whisky

you are finest at the break of dawn
as scintillating streams of sunshine
and piano notes work hand in hand
to tune up the day with a good allowance
of morning mist touching up your favourite
bed of roses the soft breeze lifting ever so wildly
the strands of hair over your forehead they
move like your fingers a maestro over the ivory bars
the music drives us wanting for more as the day
dawn crisp and clear to spill all its goodness
sparkling like metaphors of your riveting pieces

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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This Heart Is Tuned Up Like A Piano

this heart is tuned up - like a piano
well for the right person to come along
to entrance me with magical notes
every move evoking a gamut of emotions
echoing a transient brahms...rain and mist in dream
a conservative yet unrestrainingly stylish mozart
two lovers waltzing through the night
a scintillating and delightful as dawn break chopin
two children mimicking shelley's swallow's trill
a trailblazing tchaikovsky haunting with russian plain and pain

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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September travel

September Travel

I’ve packed my suitcase ready to go to Norway in
September, extra jumpers, wooly socks and two
bottles of whisky; well, I’m only staying there for
four days, but there might be a war breaking out.

Booze is very expensive in Norway so I can’t go
into bars, but sit in a tiny hotel room drink good
whisky from a glass in the bathroom, the one used
to brush ones teeth in the morning.

I will be walking around in streets where no one
knows me, there will be rain and I have no umbrella,
and I will end up in one of those expensive bars,
just standing there drinking and talking to no one.

I have unpacked my suitcase, and opened one of
the bottles and sit in my favourite chair drinking
a drop, I will not be going back to Norway this year,
the dog is old and can’t be left alone in a kennel,

poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
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Visit Malaysia Year Poem - Cameron Highlands Boh Tea - A Lady Rolling in Pink (State of Pahang)

refreshing dawn mist, crisp air
and sunshine tiptoe through tender lips,
shower their warmth over a secluded valley
where a lady rolling in pink dances
then rushes to a a meaningful rendevouz
with the benecfactor of passions

dawn mist, crisp air, sunshine and
mountain loam rolled up in tender
brown and now unveiled through
spring water, they are the simple joy
that raises the morning sun up my sky

i dont need that many readers,
just a few who care to weigh every word
to savour its intrinsic value
they too are my tea that elevates
the morning sun up my sky

(inspired after a visit to the premier highlands destination in Malaysia the Cameron Highlands, a place famous for its Boh Tea)

the sun up my sky

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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I Will Raise You Up My Friend

the piano sings
again in the living room
tinkering on notes
that finally rhyme into
a beautiful song of friendship
i may have not known
what is happening inside you
all these tantrums
of the heart
all these confusions
of the mind like
leaves scattered in the
yard of our youth
perhaps, i could be wrong
finding you alone
in the corner of your room
but no
there is music in every ear
a sigh in every word
hope in every tear
there is something that
i feel and yet
i do not really want to know
like the notes that you
strike on the keys
of the piano
unmathematical
yet so enduring.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Lust Story

the story of our meeting is quite a long one
i do not even know where to start it:
the mall, or the beach
or the lobby of this hotel by the sea
where you have seen my body
and i know
with the way you look at me
from the tip of my hair
to the tip of my toe
you desire
what i have

you think
i have so much to give you for the night where we can just be two
exploring the contours
and curves and islands of some hairs and rivers in our arms
and soft grasses on our bellies
hills on your breasts, plains on my chest

and i look at you too, i am fond of deep seated eyes that twinkle
like some tiny stars, chinky, and warm
i gaze at your face, shining gently like the moon of the night
over the cool marshes
the sound of geese subsiding finally
inside my heart

of course, your body too is one island filled with desire and bursting energy, like volleyball players under the sun

and i confess i like it
and want to taste it and even eat it,
like i have turned into one
cannibal or wanting to be one, at least on that first meeting
at the lobby of the hotel by the sea
(was it named Caprice?
or Escape or Hideaway?)

yes, the lobby of this hotel by the sea, and we decide to share
a room, get some drinks, you like the vodka, and you want me to want
the vodka and i take the vodka from your hand, and we all drink
the vodka, and we were carried by the vodka like hypnotized
kids by this magician
to the heavens,

we do what we can to give meaning to the meeting and the mating
and the loving (though we suspect this matter, takes time i suppose,
takes time, you tell me, this is just a matter of sharing bodies,

sort of)
that was nice, i like it, and you are telling me, your first time, and you
really like it too, sipping not spitting, lipping and licking,
and caressing hair, mostly hair, and running fingers on my loins,

night, dawn, dusk, early morning, where boats still dock
on the white sandy shore,
coconut trees, leaves no ripples of the wind
cigarette butts wet by lips
unwashed by the tide

then it is over, it ends at the lobby of the hotel by the sea, you wear
a bleached buri hat with a blue ribbon,
and thick sunglasses, and you are carrying a bag, checking out
talking to the billing section
while the van waits taking you to the airport

and me too, by the lobby of the hotel by the sea, and we part
i'll take the boat back home

we tell each other finally, not looking intently now
(what intent really? on diminishing interest after the sharing
of some natural resources)

take care.

(i do not even bother to say: till we meet again)

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Amadeus Mozart, con.k-365

What they adore
Is his genius
His music
Soaring to the heavens
Without so much
Effort

Effortlessly magnificent
Amadeus Mozart
And his music
Tossing me
From sea cap to sea cap
In my sea dreams

Piano notes ruffling
Like the windy beach
Waffling to the shore

Piano notes
Trickling
On my window pane
Like a soft rain
Playful
To the vines
On my window pane

What they adore
Is his genius
Soaring to the heavens

I envy him
Amadeus Mozart
His music grows like a river forever flowing

I do not mind if in there I drown
And die with a single note

He died in the sea drinking all the salty notes
Of Amadeus Mozart

Dehydration in the most musical fashion.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Over His Latte.

He's only just sat down
in the cafe when she enters
and stands at the counter

waiting to be served. He lets
his latte settle. Allows his
eyes to scrutinize. The waitress

serves the woman in the white
hat and black dress. He notes
her fine figure, the low cut at

the neck, the thin straps over
shoulders. He tries to breathe
in from where he sits her perfume,

but it doesn't come. The woman
orders an espresso and says it
with an Italian accent. He follows

her with his eyes as she walks
to a table alone. She looks like a
girl Modigliani would have painted.

She looks at her watch and then
around the room of the cafe.
She crosses her legs, one over

the other, thigh revealed. He sips
his latte. Wipes his lips with the
back of his hand. Bad habit, mother

would have slapped his hand as a
child once. The waitress delivers
the woman's coffee; he notes the

waitress's fine behind, the hands
serving, the legs touching together.
Then she's gone. Just the woman

in the white hat to study. The way
she lifts the small white cup to her
mouth, her fingers holding delicately,

as if afraid to break. Get a life Brody
would say if he were there. But he's not;
he's away with that girl from the office,

having a lay. The woman in the hat
stares at him, her eyes devour, her lips
part like legs before sex. She looks boringly

away. He sips more latte. He doesn't like
her white hat or black dress anyway.

poem by Terry Collett
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Alone

my feeling runs in the world
like the notes on your piano
hit it and you'll hear me
talk to me and you get to know me
talk to me the way you play your favourite piece
and you get that side of me
that will correspond to your favour
love me, hate me, just dont dont talk to me
the notes in me would go awry
like the piano that has not been tuned for ages
my sensitivity is a red hot iron bar dipped into water
it hisses and fumes
my joy, hurt, happiness
the way lilies edge little by little
in their bloom ensemble
under the soft morn light

inspired by

Alone
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
Edgar Allan Poe

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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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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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
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The Piano Lurched

Contact was sharp…

I jolted from immediacy of senses torn from mind:
Such was I at unawares with you –
To strike with Master’s single chord that pounced and caught me blind –
Piano, how you lurched and rent me through!

Delightful music welcomed me to drift in quasi-syncope:
Soft tranquillo sought to rest my bones –
I glided reaching largo; sang with sweet cantabile, and
Forte let me in to louder tones.

I cried with lacrimoso; squirmed when agitato flared;
My hearing rang when fingers danced the trill.
And so it was, this maestro grand was genius declared –
Acting out in music for the thrill.

Translating pen to piano, this player takes me back thro’ time…
In the chamber, fine composers charm:
I watch the manic hands of Liszt abound with tunes sublime;
Mozart teased my mood with stark alarm.

Then entered Bach to demonstrate his mathematic flare,
Calculating notes supreme of form.
And I – the minion audience – sat wanting in my chair,
Having heard my idols all perform.

Did Darwin’s theory tell at all why Man evolved this way?
Why would music help him to survive?
But scientific muse had veered my thoughts from this display, and
Music called: ‘Just listen - you’re alive! ’

The maestro draws conclusion; lets the piano die a death
To stand as wood, inert just as before –
A pollished casket lined with keys, at calm from naught of breath,
Bade me scream: ‘Bravo! ’ and ‘Hail! Encore! ’

He wakes the box to dance again with noble works of art:
Resurrected; fully primed with zest.
Now even I was back to life with reason in my heart –
Heightened from the pounding in my chest.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved

music music music music music music music
music music music music music music music
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music music music music music music music
music music music music music music music

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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At crack of dawn...! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Through chinks in roman blinds, I wake and see
Its dawn, stretch out my hand for the remote;
Switch off air conditioner, jarring sound
Drowned the musical notes of flitting birds,

And the song of first pre monsoon showers
All summer, I had waited and longed to hear.
Languorously inhaled the soft fragrance
Of the now wet earth, that stirred up per chance

A longing for you; just then mobile rings,
I laughed out loud and said, great timing!
Perplexed, you asked, tell me, what I did now.
Oh, you just caught me red handed, somehow…

After a shower, hair wrapped in a towel,
Stepped into the kitchen, to make waffles.
Your parting shot, woman- a mystery
Tickled, I quite relished my coquetry.

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Mr. Hyde's Gone

Don't be afraid,
It's just the wind and light.
Don't be afraid,
This house is very strange.
In the morning we'll be gone, don't be afraid.
We'll watch the dawn till the sun comes up,
Drinking coffee from our favourite cup.
Girl, you've been good to me so don't be afraid tonight.
Don't be afraid,
It's just the cats at play.
Don't be afraid,
They do it night and day, how very strange.
They've gone by the morning so don't be afraid of me.
We'll dream around till the dawn comes up,
Drinking coffee from our favourite cup.
Girl, you've been good to me, don't be afraid tonight.
Don't be afraid,
Don't be afraid,
(scat sing) don't be afraid,
Mr. hyde, he's really gone away
Won't be back till next full moon
So we can bill and spoon
In june and croon, be-woon, be-woon, be
Can you stand it?

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rising

Rising
On the stream of music
When the dawn shines again new,
From the twilight
From the dark;
Coming through - the rays of light,
Sunshine - sunshine!

Sparkling glisten
Fire steams,
Growing light - beyond the dark;
Red and yellow
Sparkling sparkles,
Twisting shadows
To the deep!

Shades of tempers
Lights of amber,
Orange red and hot!
Flowing like the water
In the blood of fire!

Sparking glisten!
Sparking glisten!
Through the night
Of eternal space,
Through the haze
Of starry rays…

Morning comes and softens the night,
Morning gives the sparkling day.

Sunshine - sunshine!
Shades of tempers,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Beyond the night,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Traveler in dark!

Nirvana,
Haunt me not,
From your dwelling!

poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Early Mornin'

Early mornin'
All right, I was out real late last night
Got a little messy
Early morning
Can't be like that anymore, oh
I was shaking my ass in the streets this morning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Passed out on the couch I'm yawning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Wanna talk to
When he walked up someone grabbed him
But I liked him to come here
Kinda cool
Baby, we can make plans
Where ya live
Does your mama live there
We can hook up at the hotel
Hands down so
I told him, let's go
But waht happened next, guess?
But you don't wanna know
I was shaking my ass in the streets this morning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Passed out on the couch I'm yawning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Oh, in love
So I approached him
We gotta give him his friends
There's something bout him that show
So I said, what the hell
Let's go
Got up, got on the dance floor
Hooked up with a guy named Joe
When the music was fast and slow
But waht happened next, guess?
But you don't wanna know
I was shaking my ass in the streets this morning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, bump till the break of dawn and
It don't stop till the early morning
Passed out on the couch I'm yawning
Just walked in and it's early morning
Bump, b

song performed by by Britney Spears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stardust Ease

STARDUST EASE

From sad lamenting tune, night never-ending
to dawn of gladness far from cobweb mist,
life springs, renewing seasons, sunlight sending
as summer's promise shines - once sorely missed.
Where whining wind sighed desolation’s wronging,
strong dreams of gleaming harvest may prepare
for gleaning, silo filled with wondrous longing,
song stirring stardust, ease, must everywhere
doff shadow veils as moonlight wavers. Morning
sweeps doubt away with playful mirth reborn,
agenda struck are mind-grind, muddled mourning,
disharmony, walls artificial worn.
See hand-in-hand hope slough adversity
creating through your goodness, good in me.

25 March 2009
robi03_1875_robi03_0000 SXX_KLX

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Master Blaster

Everyone's feeling pretty
It's hotter than july
Though the world's full of problems
They couldn't touch us even if they tried
From the park i hear rhythms
Marley's hot on the box
Tonight there will be a party
On the corner at the end of the block
Didn't know you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet nobody ever told you that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
You would be jammin' and jammin' and jammin', jam on
They want us to join their fighting
But our answer today
Is to let all our worries
Like the breeze through our fingers slip away
Peace has come to zimbabwe
Third world's right on the one
Now's the time for celebration
'cause we've only just begun
Didn't know that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Bet you nobody ever told you that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
You would be jammin' and jammin' and jammin', jam on
Bet you nobody ever told you that you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I know nobody told you that you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
We're jammin', jammin', jammin', jam on
You ask me am i happy
Well as matter of fact
I can say that i'm ecstatic
'cause we all just made a pact
We've agreed to get together
Joined as children in jah
When you're moving in the positive
Your destination is the brightest star
You didn't know that you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet you nobody ever told you that you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Don't you stop the music, oh no,
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Na, na na...
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Nobody told you oh, oh, oh, you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet you if someone approached you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Yesterday to tell you that you would be jammin' you would not believe it because you never thought that you would be jammin'
Oh, oh, oh, oh,
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Jammin' 'til the break of dawn
Oh, oh, oh, you may as well believe what you are feeling
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Because you feel your body jammin'
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Oh, oh, you would be jammin' until the break of dawn
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Master Blaster (Dub)

Everyone's feeling pretty
It's hotter than July
Though the world's full of problems
They couldn't touch us even if they tried
From the park I hear rhythms
Marley's hot on the box
Tonight there will be a party
On the corner at the end of the block
Didn't know you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet nobody ever told you that you
would be jammin' until the break of dawn
You would be jammin' and jammin' and jammin', jam on
They want us to join their fighting
But our answer today
Is to let all our worries
Like the breeze through our fingers slip away
Peace has come to Zimbabwe
Third World's right on the one
Now's the time for celebration
'Cause we've only just begun
Didn't know that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Bet you nobody ever told you that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
You would be jammin' and jammin' and jammin', jam on
Bet you nobody ever told you that you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I know nobody told you that you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
We're jammin', jammin', jammin', jam on
You ask me am I happy
Well as matter of fact
I can say that I'm ecstatic
'Cause we all just made a pact
We've agreed to get together
Joined as children in Jah
When you're moving in the positive
Your destination is the brightest star
You didn't know that you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet you nobody ever told you that you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Don't you stop the music, oh no,
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Na, na na...
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Nobody told you Oh, Oh, Oh, you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet you if someone approached you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
yesterday to tell you that you would be jammin' you would not believe it because you never thought that you would be jammin'
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh,
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
jammin' 'til the break of dawn
Oh, Oh, Oh, You may as well believe what you are feeling
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
because you feel your body jammin'
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Oh, Oh, you would be jammin' until the break of dawn
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unheard Music

Unheard Music (Mozart)

The fingers on my left hand move all by themselves
like they are playing piano that produces music
I cannot hear. I watch my fingers play but it makes no
sense so I try to stop by holding them still with my
right hand’s fingers. So I sit like a vicar contemplating
the Sunday sermon, a mild one who hasn’t an arsenal
of fire and brimstone speeches, but would rather talk
about the coming spring. My wife brings me a glass of
water and a pill, fingers rest, but I would liked to have
heard the music they played, for all I know it could
have been music brought to me in a dream by Mozart
who died so young that he can’t believe it yet, and
tries trough, me to play his latest masterpiece.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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I Turn To The East

I see on the horizon,
The lifting of mist...
From a fresh morning dew.

I witness the dawn,
And the Sun rising to shine...
Through a cloudless sky of blue.

I turn to the East,
With a prayer to give...
Everyday I live as if pursued.

A thankfulness to be so blessed,
I can not help but express...
With a doing done and not a wish to do!

I turn to the East,
With a prayer to give...
Everyday I live as if pursued.

I witness the dawn,
And the Sun rising to shine...
Through a cloudless sky of blue.

I see on the horizon the lifting of mist,
From a fresh morning dew...
I do not wish to miss.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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