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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Constant Is This Hip Hop And Pop
It is today,
Very constant.
Constant is this hip hop and pop.
And with some added rapping touches...
This phenomenon is not going to stop.
No not very soon.
I'd like to admit I like Tchaikovsky's,
Attitude.
With a little bit of Brahms,
When I'm in that mood.
Move over Beetoven when I'm open to Chopin,
And Mozart too!
I'd like to admit I like Tchaikovsky's,
Attitude.
With a little bit of Brahms,
When I'm in that mood.
Move over Beetoven when I'm open to Chopin,
And Mozart too!
It is today,
Very constant.
Constant is this hip hop and pop.
And with some added rapping touches...
This phenomenon is not going to stop.
No not very soon.
Constant is this hip hop.
And the attitudes.
Constant is this hip hop.
What is one going to do?
Knowing there's no end that stops.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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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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I play the piano and have been playing since I was 7, mainly classical Chopin, Beethoven, Mozart.
ThE pAiN..........
I'll swallow the pain of being misunderstood.
I'll swallow the pain of being no good.
I'll just swallow the pain of not fitting in.
I'll just swallow the pain of not deserving.
I'll swallow the pain of hiding myself.
I'll swallow the pain of having no help.
I'll just swallow the pain of being constantly hurt.
I'll just swallow the pain of being thought as a nerd.
I'll swallow the pain of breaking my heart.
And in all of my dreams, with sorrow I'll part........
poem by Urmila Reghunath
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The Day the Piano Came
His fingers caressed the new, shiny keys, pulling out the strings
of Chopin melodies and chords that tugged at the heart.
We had never heard anything so beautiful as the gentle notes
that rolled into my ears, soft and warm. I shivered
in this warmth. It was too beautiful. This man
was a genius, bringing us this new and beautiful happiness.
That night, while everyone slept, I crept downstairs
and sat at the new piano. The smooth white glistened
under my curious fingertips. They itched to play.
This was a real piano.
I had never seen such an elegantly monstrous instrument,
and it was right here, in my house, under my fingers.
I was wrapped in bliss that night, and in the years
that followed, that silent piano brought me peace.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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Chopin Nocturnes Sonnet
Listen....autumn rain is gently falling
Within enchanted hour of twilight sky.
In my soul, Chopin is softly calling
Lovely piano notes that make me cry.
As Luna slowly rises in the east
Her soft lambent glow lightly veiled in shrouds,
Taming the spirit of both man and beast
By roaming mesmerizing misty clouds.
My spirit soars within this peaceful scene
Enthralled by every note of Chopin's tune.
Beguiled in nature's calm, I feel serene
As stars appear and mingle with the moon.
This music and enchanted night reveal
New hope my mourning heart will one day heal.
January 13, 2021
poem by Connie Marcum Wong
Submitted by anonym
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Every Need In Me
I've got to move...
From memories,
Haunting...
Every need in me!
I've got to move.
I've got to move...
From shadows,
And dark places.
I've got to move...
From despairing melodies,
That keep me in such solitude...
And,
Deep dark gloomy moods!
I've got to move.
I've got to move...
To open all closed windows.
And,
I've got to move...
More than two steps away from doors.
Closed within I've been.
And I've got to...
Leave behind memories,
Haunting...
Every need in me!
I've got to move.
I've got to move...
From memories,
Haunting...
Every need in me!
I've got to move.
I've got to move...
From memories,
Haunting...
Every need in me!
I've got to move.
I've got to move...
From memories,
Haunting...
Every need in me.
I've got to move.
I've got to move.
I've got to move...
From memories,
Haunting...
Every need in me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Friends Within The Darkness
I can remember starving in a
small room in a strange city
shades pulled down, listening to
classical music
I was young I was so young it hurt like a knife
inside
because there was no alternative except to hide as long
as possible--
not in self-pity but with dismay at my limited chance:
trying to connect.
the old composers -- Mozart, Bach, Beethoven,
Brahms were the only ones who spoke to me and
they were dead.
finally, starved and beaten, I had to go into
the streets to be interviewed for low-paying and
monotonous
jobs
by strange men behind desks
men without eyes men without faces
who would take away my hours
break them
piss on them.
now I work for the editors the readers the
critics
but still hang around and drink with
Mozart, Bach, Brahms and the
Bee
some buddies
some men
sometimes all we need to be able to continue alone
are the dead
rattling the walls
that close us in.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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I Dream
dream of a better world where as people would see each other nothing more than people of a different shade of gray
I dream of all my problems crumbling in my hands never to utter another sound
I dream of love renewed no more forsaken the day of my fulfillment
I dream of blues skies and flowers lying in a field of hope and no more despair
I dream of moonlit nights where the smell of jasmine permeates the air with its sweet aroma
I dream of being in love once again with that person that just takes my breath away
I dream of angels dancing in candle light
I dream of naked waterfalls that drench my soul and ease my pain
I dream of earthly fulfillments never imagined before
I dream of paradise lost and never found
I dream of turquoise seas surrounding my unadorned body
I dream of piece no longer the beast devouring the children of the west
I dream of calmer seas that no longer rocks the boat of tranquility
I dream of you and me forever be
I dream no more the lonely night of my salvation
I dream of happiness once more on my enlightened soul
I dream of no more shadows haunting me as I slumber
I dream no more my weary eyes of sadness abound
I dream crying the day cometh the dawn no more
I dream walking on the beach with the one I love hand in hand
I dream of midnight caressing while the sun comes up
I dream of what could have been, what could be, and what has gone
I dream to no longer forsake my sanity to the darkness of my emotions
I dream of a place whereas I can lounge and bask in my redolence roses
I dream a dream of lesser conscienceless to the world that holds me back
I dream of no more waking hours consumed by society at large
I dream the dream of romantics no longer uttering there voices aloud
I am a dreamer, but without dreamers what would this world be
As empty as the heart that knows no love
As dark as the night that knows no stars
I think so there for I must have feelings
I live so there for I must be alive
I sleep so there for I must be a dreamer
Dream on and let the night bring you to places in the sun
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Got To Get Away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
I was afraid I kept my feelings inside
We shared our love and the thing
But in the end you took a ride
You didnt come back to me I shut my tears along
It crushed my heart causeyou are never coming home
Emotions swept away to nothing at all
Those were the days that I was loosing control
You got me burning it will never get the same
You just let me standing in the rain.
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Emotions swept away
Im loosing control
Youve got me burning up
Ive got to let you go
Emotions swept away
Im loosing control
Youve got me burning up
Ive got to let you go
Ive got to get away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
Ive got to get away
Ive got to move away
song performed by by Alice Deejay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Ode To Inspiration
Up above, Tchaikovsky's fluting notes are dancing,
And the empty paper waits for the first verse to be born.
While the screaming wind beats against the old window,
My thoughts are endlessly straying,
Looking for lost inspiration,
And they stray the ravines of my mind,
Like lost children searching for their dear mother,
Lost inspiration.
The heart is painfully echoing in a mute chest,
And the paper still waits for its dear tennants,
And it is as if the angry wind knows it too,
The wind that shakes the old window blinds
That painfully creak
Like the bones of an old dying man.
If I could,
I would sprinkle all roads with stars,
I would gild each stone with the rays of the sun,
If only inspiration could find its way to my home.
But how could I possibly greet it royally
In a room full of moisture, draft and smoke,
And the deafening echo of poverty,
As inspiration is royal by birth, after all.
There is grave silence down there,
And a magic harmony up there,
It is Tchaikovsky dispersing his magic notes
Down into my dark home,
As if he wants to provide a royal welcome for inspiration.
That blue shadow is watching me now,
As if saying:
'Inspiration is of royal birth,
You will find it in the dark, below a stone,
In the company of the darkest shadow,
At the very heart of loneliness;
You don't have to take the stars down from the sky for it,
Or bait it with gold
So it would find its home.
Giving in to your heart is enough, brother,
And inspiration shall find its home! ...'
poem by Walter William Safar
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Laura
(mercer/raskin - additional lyrics by carly simon)
Lead-in with haunting:
Theres always someone, haunting someone, haunting someone,
I cant sleep easy, cause Im afraid of dreaming
And then the memory of the dream
Theres always someone, haunting someone, haunting someone
Laura is the face in the misty night
Footsteps that you hear down the hall
The laugh that floats on a summers night
That you might never quite recall
And you see laura on a train that is passing through
Those eyes how familiar they seem
She gave your very first kiss to you
That was laura but shes only a dream
She gave your very first kiss to you
That was laura
But shes only a dream
Yes she gave your very first kiss to you
That was laura, but shes only a dream
A dream, a dream
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To
The Day was dying; his breath
Wavered away in a hectic gleam;
And I said, if Life's a dream, and Death
And Love and all are dreams -- I'll dream.
A mist came over the bay
Like as a dream would over an eye.
The mist was white and the dream was grey
And both contained a human cry,
The burthen whereof was "Love",
And it filled both mist and dream with pain,
And the hills below and the skies above
Were touched and uttered it back again.
The mist broke: down the rift
A kind ray shot from a holy star.
Then my dream did waver and break and lift --
Through it, O Love, shone thy face, afar.
So Boyhood sets: comes Youth,
A painful night of mists and dreams;
That broods till Love's exquisite truth,
The star of a morn-clear manhood, beams.
poem by Sidney Lanier
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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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Dream is not a revelation. If a dream affords the dreamer some light on himself, it is not the person with closed eyes who makes the discovery but the person with open eyes lucid enough to fit thoughts together. Dream- a scintillating mirage surrounded by shadows- is essentially poetry.
quote by Michel Leiris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dream is not a revelation. If a dream affords the dreamer some light on himself, it is not the person with closed eyes who makes the discovery but the person with open eyes lucid enough to fit thoughts together. Dream- a scintillating mirage surrounded by shadows- is essentially poetry.
quote by Jesse Louis Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Classical Music
Classical music makes me cry
Each time I hear a piece
My heart wells up with so much joy
Until music cease Chopin, Beethoven, and Mozart too
Make the inner sole want to sing
It makes me happy to hear the notes
To each note my heart wants to cling Classical music has never meant so much
To me until to Europe I went
But now it brings overwhelming joy
Many hours of listening are spent What a wondrous talent the writers did have
Of the Classicals I listen to each day
The joy it brings to many of us
Will last forever each day that it's played.
poem by Sharon Wiseman
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Thrilling Throat Trills Dream Theme after Beth St. Clair For Keats
Soft summer zephyr wafts Keats' Nightingale
along time's rhyme line, on no midnight sleeps,
Tree Dryad's tune sends tremors up, down dale,
harmonics' sweet eternal wonder keeps.
'Sull'aria', soft canzonetta's call,
runs through the gamut of emotions' range,
as 'soave zefiretto' trembles, held in thrall
as siren song on perilous seas full strange.
Through woven word worlds lovers from the past
still celebrate angelic serenade,
whose haunting chords undaunted by time's blast
ignore farewells despite life's cavalcade.
Each note outreaches generation gaps
as thrilling throat trills dream theme which won't lapse.
(21 May 2012)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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