Dont slight that little bird
the greatest
contribution
of songs
and music
is they help
human evolve
the birds,
the crickets
grasshoppers
toads and frogs
the stars, moon
and mars
the entire comsic
vibrations
sheet by sheet
layer by layer
they build up
the foundations
of the human mind
for cognitive pleasures
the amoeba for
its adventures into
complex creatures
a child would be
dull without
the lullabies
that soothe
and build up
his world
the piano
is not a piano
without its
sonic bars
dont slight
that little bird
in the air
it might just
one day wear
an intellgience
greater than men
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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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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Evolution
the Higher Spirit
so loves
the human race
a whole world
is created
for its evolution
the birds
they are
instruments
to tune up human's
mind and soul
and the challening
riddle to conquer sky
the crickets
they are to
share with humans
the subtleties of
romances
the dogs
they are to exhibit
how love sews
trust and loyalty
the fish
that the sea
is full of adventures
gills, fins,
scales and all
the cat
how to strut
with pride,
confidence
though the physique
is small
a far cry from
the powerfl tiger
the parrots
how to micmic
and play to the tune
of another species
take all
these creatures away
and man would evolve
into nothing more than
these animals
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Seeing a Clearer Me
layer by layer
i peel so that
like a glass
you can view me
crystal clear as a virgin river
a polished diamond
decades of
practice for those
seasoned fingers
to strike at her core
to bring out those few
beethoven scores
he tuned up the world for
a great watch maker
filing his cog to tighten time
the precision of mind
to keep a universal lie at bay
verse by verse
layer by layer
i peel to get to
the sheen the almighty
laid hidden in me
layer by layer
i peel off the world
to see a clearer me
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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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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One Less Animal to Help Me Evolve
put one child into a room
give him a doggie
to write his page
put another child into a room
give him a doggie,
a turtle, a caged dove
to fill his days
put another child into a room
give him a doggie, a gold fish,
a fighting fish and a parrot
to string his tales
now let them all talk to you
about their adventures
the first one would look at you
and probably say nothing
the second would probably rant
how the doggie had tried to bite the turtle
and how he had saved it
keeping it with the dove
the third child, he probably
would ask you whether you
have enough time to hear him out
- a whole world of adventures
he had spent time talking to the parrot
feeding the fish, and trying to get
the fighting fish to spread its colourful fins
and in between treat his doggie like another
man telling him about all the other creatures
now see the first child as not having
the animals because they have all become extinct
how less resourceful the brain has become
and now if an interconnected mind
is a more powerful mind
we will be so much less creative or inventive
50 years from now going by the rate
animals are becoming extinct
an extinct animal is a part of our brain emptied
struck of chance to evolve into a higher level of intelligence
for all creatures are put here to help men to evolve
there are coded messages in every bird's chirp
to help the brain to develop
there are coded messages on the turtle's shell
its exotic designs to help the brain to evolve
there are coded messages in the cry of each
animal to help the brain become creative, inventive
in each colour, in each feather there are coded messages
to help human, the main actor of this universe, to
shine
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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That family glaze of common references, jokes, events, calamities-that sense of a family being like a kitchen midden layer upon layer of the things daily life is made of. The edifice that lovers build is by comparison delicate and one-dimensional.
quote by Laurie E. Colwin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At the center of each human heart is goodness, layered over with hurt, confusion, and mistaken ideas. Our task is to gently peel off layer after layer until the unfettered heart can shed its love upon the world.
Sue Patton Thoele in The Courage To Be Yourself Journal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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You're better off being a brick layer if you're going to play guitar than a sheet metal worker.
quote by Roger Daltrey
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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Thirteen
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faces and layers of faces
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Buicks To The Moon
(alan jackson/jim mcbride)
How long will I love you
I dont really know
Id like to think forever
Is how far we could go so let me paint a picture
Of how its gonna be
The day you dont mean everything to me
When a nickels worth a dollar
And gold aint worth a dime
When they build a ship
On waters that will take you back in time
When the stars have all been counted
And I stop lovin you
Honey theyll be driving
Buicks to the moon
Now you dont have to worry
About what comes to pass
This old world may wear out
But my loves gonna last
If they ever build that highway to the moon
Ill just fond somethin else to promise you
When a nickels worth a dollar
And gold aint worth a dime
When they build a ship
On waters that will take you back in time
When the stars have all been counted
And I stop lovin you
Honey theyll be driving
Buicks to the moon
Oh when the stars have all been counted
And I stop lovin you
Honey theyll be drivin
Buicks to the moon
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be Like A Bird
Birds build their own nests
one twig at a time
little by little.
Birds build their own nests
strong enough
for raising their young ones
until they know
how to fly.
Be like a bird
even if it takes time
build your own home.
Be like a bird
build your home strong enough
for raising your children
until they know how to live
...on their own.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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The Keys
Broken ivories
playing
the blue piano
of the sea.
We have come
from the bitter city
to heal ourselves.
We have come
looking for a patch of beach
not yet built into a fortress
of real-estate greed,
a coral reef
not yet picked clean
of buried treasure,
not yet bare of birds.
The first night in the Keys,
I dreamed I was a bird
soaring over a hilly city,
soaring & dipping
like a gull or egret.
& I thought:
'Ah- this is a flying dream!
Enjoy it.'
But I really think
that my soul
has been transported
for a night
into the body of
a bird
& I was flying.
I woke up
exhausted,
arms weary,
eyes red.
The beach was dazzling
with its white sand,
the sun blinding,
& I seemed to know the palm trees
from above
as well as below.
They root in the sand
with elephant feet,
yet they also root
their delicate fronds
in air.
& these are a comfort
as you fly
half bird, half human
through a dream of sky.
Everything was new
to a spirit
so divided
between two kingdoms.
The water was alive
with fish,
the air with birds
& palm fronds,
clouds, thunderous presences
of rain
gathering & parting,
& fiery sun playing through.
I knew
that I stood
on a patch of earth
connected to the sky,
that my heart beat
with the sea,
that my arms moved
with the clouds,
that my flesh
was finally irrelevant
though it surrounded me
as the case of a piano
surrounds its strings,
while the fingers play
on the ivory keys
& the human music
rises to the sky.
poem by Erica Jong
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Murmur Upon A Self During The Party Meeting Some Unauthentic People On The Row
most of the time
we hide anger
about almost
anything
to anyone
and we say hello
ask
how's life doing
and go to the
details about
their kids
and dogs
and then the conversation
moves on
like a home
pet, a bird, a vine
that we
hang and
see and appreciate
upon all these common
denominators of
i own this one
and i am
happy with what i have
and shall
leave to this earth
layer upon layer
the talk
settles like
we are all the same
but somehow
some rise above the
rights to property
higher
than what the state
can take pride of
as though
this world has no end
as though
this is the only
place
permanent
everlasting
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Vermilion Pt. 2
She seemed dressed in all of me,stretched across my shame
All the torment and the pain
leaked through and coverd me
Id do anything to have her to myself
Just to have her for myself
Now I dont know what to do, dont know what to do when she makes me sad
She is everything to me
The unrequited dream
The song that no one sings
The unattainable, shes a myth that I have to believe in
All I need to make it real is one more reason
I dont know what to do, I dont know what to do when she makes me sane
But I wont let this build up inside of me
I wont let this build up inside of me
I wont let this build up inside of me
I wont let this build up inside of me
But I wont let this build up inside of me
A catch in my throat
Choke, torn into pieces, I wont
No, I dont want to be this
I wont let this build up inside of me
(Wont let this build up inside of me)
I wont let this build up inside of me
(Wont let this build up inside of me)
I wont let this build up inside of me
(Wont let this build up inside of me)
I wont let this build up inside of me
(Inside of me)
She isnt real
I can't make her real
She isnt real
I can't make her real
song performed by by Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uschi
The red piano,
The white piano,
The black piano,
The blue piano,
Should i have a candle light diner with you my love?
Bubbles,
There goes the red wine of love on this issue;
But your love and kind words means a lot to me.
Uschi my love,
Come to the valley of Hebron to care for me;
For the sun, the moon and the eleven stars do wait for us.
Uschi my sweet one,
You have a single vision on my love but i do have a bifocal on you;
For this dream of mine will be yours forever in the taking.
My love is like the dawn of a new day to you,
Your love is like the dawn of a new era to me,
And this muse of love is now dawn to us;
So come to the valley of Hebron to care for me my sweet one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Stare
a stare is like a stair
it has steps
and there are feet
walking,
and leaving,
you stare at me,
and i see stairs, where you walk
and climb and stop at the middle
and then take the stairs layer by layer
that is what you like to do, to look at me
as though i am this room where you build the stairs
and you want to go inside my room and lock me up
and take all of me with your tongue and hands and
mouth. You mouth me. And i receive the life you have.
and then your stare subsides. the stair is gone.
the room vanishes. I am free. And you are inside me
your stare has become the memory lingering inside me.
i become a bird and you are inside my wings.
Your stairs become my feathers. Your stare
becomes my eyes.
in love, we make the stairs leading to a house.
and there we feast, and live and sleep.
yes, there are wings and windows.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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