A Sense Of Comfort And Sweet Sadness
and so
from prison to the hospital
you find this sense
of comfort
to the piano music that
he played once
but still sticks deep down
in the recesses of
memory
it is that sweet sadness
assuaging that
madness long subsumed
that is awakened
bringing forth the rage
and the sage
in you
welcome to the
realities of this world
tackle down
the heaviness of
some words
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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You Were There
By eric clapton
We made the distance,
Yeah, we made the day.
You made all the difference
'cause you found the way.
Without your wisdom
Lord, where would we be
Lost in the wilderness,
Somewhere out at sea.
But you were there
Through the days of wine and madness,
When i'd always put you down.
You were there
Through my joys and my sadness
And you never let me down.
You found the meaning
And helped me to see
Where i was going to
All that i could be.
Without permission
You turned the key.
You climbed the prison wall
Deep inside of me.
You were there
Through the days of wine and madness
When i'd turn and put, put you down.
You were there
Through my joys and my sadness
And you never let me down.
You were there
Through the days of wine and madness
When i'd turn and put, put you down.
You were there
Through my joys and my sadness
And you never let me down.
Let me down.
You were there.
You were there.
You were there.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Other one's words
We all go to sleep
With someone’s words
In our minds
Words of kindness
Words of anger
Words of every kind
They carry us off to sleep
And perhaps temper
And shape our dreams
Words said in caring
The most soothing
it seems
In anger or sadness
In calm and in madness
Words in our minds, we’ll find
As we drift off to sleep
Be it fretful or deep…and
Our mind slowly lowers it’s blinds
We all go to sleep… be it shallow or deep
Hearing some other one’s…
Words in our minds
poem by David Whalen
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Sea Of Madness
Out in the street somebodys crying
Out in the night the fires burn
Maybe tonight somebodys crying
Reached the point of no return
Oh - my eyes they see but I cant believe
Oh - my heart is heavy as I turn my back and leave
Like the eagle and the dove
Fly so high on wings above
When all you see can only bring you sadness
Like a river we will flow
On towards the sea we go
When all you do can only bring you sadness
Out on the sea of madness
Somewhere I hear a voice thats calling
Out in the dark there burns a dream
You got to hope when you are falling
To find the world that you have seen
Oh -
Oh -
Its madness
The sun dont shine
On the sea of madness
There aint no wind to fill your sails
Madness when all you see can only bring you sadness
On towards the sea we go...
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Within The Recesses Of Our Mind
Deep within the recesses of our mind
are little pockets
that store the essence of our time.
On odd occasions,
they unlock their barrier
and set some of our time free.
Things of what we’ve half-forgotten,
voices that we’ve heard from long ago,
love we’ve had and lost.
Times we wanted to remember,
but were lost from our memory
that have been stored
deep within the recesses of our mind.
11 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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Old Upright Piano
For as long as I remember, when friday night came round
The family would gather out at grandpas house.
With supper over and the dishes done
It was then the best time came
At an old upright piano that only grandma played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
Grandpa was a stubborn man, they said it was his style.
Grandma called him ornery, but she said it with a smile.
Even he could not disguise the love he felt so strong;
We all could see it in his eyes when she played his favorite song.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
I was almost 17 when my grandma died;
I stayed all night with grandpa; the old man never cried.
He sat at her piano, there was nothing we could say
It was the first time in my life I ever heard my grandpa play.
It wasnt beautiful dreamer or my wild irish rose
It was a song he played from memory & he never missed a note
I sat right there beside him until the morning came
What a friend we have in jesus was the only song he played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Awaken Little Dreamer
With my eyes closed I see sadness. Sadness I held in for so long. Sadness that is beginning to be replaced with madness. Madness that's been eating at my core, my thought process, my mind for so long.
Eyes open, I see a reality I've been trying to to change, to better it. A lie, I've been living a lie. My life is a lie, one I've been living for so long.
A single tear escapes my eye as I am awaking from my made up reality, my created world. Reality, my reality is tragic not magic. Tears I held back now pour from my eyes, tears I held back for so long.
With my eyes closed I see sadness. I see pain masked by madness. I see sadness hidden by a web of lies and as I open my eyes I hear a voice say, 'Awaken from your dream, come and face reality. Awaken little dreamer. Awaken.'
poem by Suzaku Vaneko
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Writing On The Wall
Words and music by rick nielsen
All right, I saw the writing on the wall.
All night, I saw the writing on the wall,
I saw the writing on the wall.
Lo and behold, heard it on the radio.
It was a long time comin, but it sounds so sweet, come on, man, get off my back.
All right, I saw the writing on the wall.
All night, I saw the writing on the wall,
I saw the writing on the wall.
In the midwest and in the east.
Canada, southwest, around the world,
L.a., tokyo, sounds so sweet,
Come on honey, get on your feet.
All right, I saw the writing on the wall.
All night, I saw the writing on the wall,
I saw the writing on the wall.
The words were oh, so...
The words were oh, so clear.
All right, I saw the writing on the wall.
All night, I saw the writing on the wall,
I saw the writing on the wall.
Lo and behold, heard it on the radio.
It was a long time comin, but it sounds so sweet, come on, man, get off my back.
Saw it at the airport, it was on t.v.
Read it in a magazine, runnin down the street.
Makes no sense, but I hope its gonna last,
The next big thing, I really gotta laugh.
Worked and slaved and played like hell,
Everybodys goin crazy, youre the last to know.
Cant explain it, still a joke to me,
Maybe Im naive, cause its so plain to see.
Its right in front of your face, man.
Its right in front of your face, man.
Played like hell, whoa!
Played like hell, whoa!
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As I work with my words as medium
I want to be profound
Deep, deeper than what i
Can possible swim
But I have seen
The limitations
Of words as medium
Of my thoughts
How can I put the
Color red
Of an apple
In words
Or the scent
Of lavender
In syllables
Here you are
Reading me
And I do not want
To disappoint
You, my reader
I want to create
A world of sensations
For such is the
World of poetry
I have long wanted
You to feel
My sadness in
Letters
My loneliness
In a single
Letter
This
i
Or...... ............................... me...................................
I want you to listen
To me
In the hush of the wind
In syllables
I want you to
Read my joys
In my phrases
Sometimes
I have given
You sentences
stanzas
I want you to
Be at home
With my words
But these are
Just words
And I must
Have failed
In bringing
Back to life
Your senses
Hopelessly
They have long
been dead
words, words, words,
And
Even this whole
Poem
Is not enough
Let me try
Again
On some
Coming
Illustrations
Birds falling
Their wings clipped
Leaves blown
Detached from
Their stems
Trees threatened
About the news
Of the coming storms
Oh I am so sorry
Your senses are sleeping
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Angel
Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
Theres always one reason
To feel not good enough
And its hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
Ill find some peace tonight
In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
Youre in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there
So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
Theres vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lie
That you make up for all that you lack
It dont make no difference
Escaping one last time
Its easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees
In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
Youre in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there
Youre in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem
Words hung on paper
Like thoughts in the wind
Some flitter to and fro
But the good ones always seem to blow
Away and away,
Again and again.
Go down to the river of exile
Where the sad ones cry,
Go out to the catacombs
Where the old ones die...
Like a leaf in the fall
It's all such a temporary thing,
So put a little music with it
And hope it'll make someone's soul sing.
Slumbering forth with sadness
A mingled mixture of madness
This sobriquet symphony
Of mellow deep;
Heart felt longings,
Vagabond thoughts,
And lack of sleep -
Every bit of being blends
As awe and imagination together
Never end.
Mighty words in waves
Churn man's deep,
With wild wonders to reap.
Where mystery and majesty are born,
The poetic possibilities of translation
Range from sage to scorn.
In a million ways arriving
Within each new day
The great gift given,
If only wise enough words can be found
To say.
These are the forms and foundations of poem,
Read or written, loved or smitten,
Gathered together, or alone,
If one will only listen to hear
The faint whispers of Eternity speak,
Ever drawing nearer, and nearer...
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Coffee And Music And Rain
as you play the piano
the rain outside has not ceased
the notes fall like rain
music is a crying
song
the cries become music
to my ears
there is no sadness that
is sadness per se
because sadness has meaning
it has a purpose
just like every note that
must have a place in this afternoon
sonata
to create that blend of
sweetness and bitterness over a cup
of brewed coffee
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Kiss
I've only had one kiss from you,
a kiss I can't forget.
It was sweet and soft upon my lips
and the feel of it lingers yet.
That kiss aroused a beat in my heart
that's never gone away.
And though it was only one sweet kiss
its memory still does stay
alive in my thoughts
and alive in my mind.
When will it leave?
Will I ever find
how one kiss can touch the body and soul
and how one kiss can take its toll?
Just one kiss was all it took
and no one's more surprised
at just how much that one kiss meant
and how I memorized
the feel, the taste and what it did.
It never left. It just hid
in the recesses of my mind.
And in its childlike innocence
it awakened a beat in my heart.
It surfaces every once in a while
like a beautiful piece of art.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Prison of Solitude
A prison of solitude
To which I am thrown
The empty walls and rooms
The soundless corridors
The drawn-out night
What madness grows here
That no other does see
How lonely I find
The sleepless bed
The loveless air
The void of conversation
The dying romance of the candle
This isolation
This so complete nothingness
I am kept at distance
From a world I do not know
In this place of madness
A prison of solitude
To which I have been thrown
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Blues
Hes gonna tell you bout his dear old mother
Burned up in a factory in springfield, mass.
Hes gonna tell you bout his baby brother
Hustlin down the city streets
And selling his ass for a dollar bag
Hes gonna tell you bout his uncle neddy
Locked up in a prison out in oregon
Hes gonna tell you bout his best friend eddie
Killed in a bar fight with a pair of marines
And a sailor
Oh
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it in his music
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it, you can hear it
When I was nine years old
My daddy ran away
With a woman he met on a train, oh
His little boy
Ran to the room
Where his piano
Lay in wait for him
He played and he played
He played and he played
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it, you can hear it
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
A year ago, I met a girl
I thought wed hit a massive groove
But she dumped me
And all wed hit were the blues
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes got the blues
You can hear it in his music
Hes got the blues, this boy
Hes really got the blues
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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the Joy Of Music
-THE JOY OF MUSIC -
The violin sang so softly
In the hands of this old man
As he sat there on the wooden stool
Bow held gently in his hand.
His wife played grand piano
Sweet music they did make
As from the hard work of the fields
This respite, they would take.
Gentle music of God's praise
They played for all to hear.
The sweetest music in the land
Was falling on God's ear.
They passed along that joyous sound
To children they did bare
The most relaxing trait of all
The gift of music rare.
And now throughout the generations
Which do continue to abound
We hear the perfect notes and glorious songs,
The joy of music does resound.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
2-11-07
By Ms. Caroline
poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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Cant Stop The Music
Hes the star of the stage, and he screams all night
cause he cant get to sleep at all
And his favorite book, by the t.v. light, cant stop the matinee,
Hes played it over and over
He cant stop the music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
All those hard-earned words, that hes fought from his pen
Have been forgotten in some empty hall
And the wide-eyed looks, on those wiped-out faces
Make some dreams in such places over and over
He cant stop the music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
Wouldnt believe your ears, if he told you what the papers use to say
But that was in his hey-day
Back in his prime he had the fans in line
You should have seen him then, now look at him
His hair is getting thin
Theres one last show before the glory ends
There in the wings, waits his only friend,
The record that he prayed to over and over
He cant stop the music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
Then we go like this, and we go like that (music)
Then we go like this, and we go like that,
Cant stop the music
Then we go like this, and we go like that (music)
Then we go like this and we go like that.
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can't Stop The Music (He Played It Much Too Long)
He's the star of the stage, and he screams all night
'Cause he can't get to sleep at all
And his favorite book, by the T.V. light, can't stop the matinee,
He's played it over and over
He Can't Stop The Music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
All those hard-earned words, that he's fought from his pen
Have been forgotten in some empty hall
And the wide-eyed looks, on those wiped-out faces
Make some dreams in such places over and over
He Can't Stop The Music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
Wouldn't believe your ears, if he told you what the papers use to say
But that was in his hey-day
Back in his prime he had the fans in line
You should have seen him then, now look at him
His hair is getting thin
There's one last show before the glory ends
There in the wings, waits his only friend,
The record that he prayed to over and over
He Can't Stop The Music, or remember the ending to his song
He played it much too long
Then we go like this, and we go like that (music)
Then we go like this, and we go like that,
Can't Stop The Music
Then we go like this, and we go like that (music)
Then we go like this and we go like that.
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sadness Is About
This is such a sad, sad, sad day, the sun
shining in a sad way, the very air I breathe
is sad, the music in my ears crying in violin
and sad theme, all comfort lost, security is
but a memory in the past
The flowers at my work station looking at
me sadly, yellowed leaves moving sadly
in the draft, even the ubiquitous office din
is sad, the smile on every mouth is sad,
sadness is creasing reality
Everything falling into tears and despair,
sadness overwhelming and no release
near, sadness colouring my soul until I
am wearing the deepest purple shroud
of loneliness where nothing else
But sadness is about
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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