Fingers On The Piano
the fingers on the piano
are so cruel
pressing the ivory keys
of mother's old piano
and from
the blankness of
her presence
a floodgate opens
the memories
which should have
been better
forgotten
there will be more
tears shed
as there will always
be rain
but there is this
adamant
determination to claim
the colors
of the rainbow
after
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
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piano store
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piano bench
piano effect
piano sound
piano string
piano mover
piano maker
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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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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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The piano chords
You play the piano chords
In this sonata as well as
In the music of Prokofiev,
Emphatically catching the music's mood.
Fingers seem to stick the keys
And the keys seem to direct the fingers,
When the thumbs move under them.
You both look like a single being,
In together.
The piano seemingly breaks the sounds.
They penetrate my soul,
Searching for the necessary words.
I understand the story of your feelings.
Dedicated to Richard Clayderman
poem by Marieta Maglas
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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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Rose lies on the piano keys....
Rose lies on the piano keys.
It still hears the sounds of music.
Hopelessly dump it lies,
Echoes of love songs arise.
Glowing petals fade by the past shade,
With the yesterday’s love groan.
Black and white keys played
To the only one and his own.
Memories of the fingers remained.
They were beautiful love skill,
A shrill cries of love and pain.
Rose lies on the piano keys…
It’s a memory of the old follies
And the fairies giving the dowries.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
January 30th,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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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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Hello, Rainbow!
Rainbow, Rainbow
that was her nickname.
A name she had obtained,
for all the colors she'd appreciate.
Rainbow, Rainbow
that was her calling
to come out in style to show the worlds vibrant.
Rainbow, Rainbow
they laughed at her colors
said she was different
not normal like others.
Rainbow, Rainbow
they took her as a joke.
Just a mere girl looking for attention you know?
Rainbow, Rainbow
lover of rain
not a care in the world of what other people say.
Rainbow, Rainbow
she started too change
The world saw her brightly
now shes all black and grey.
Rainbow, Rainbow
why goes this way.
We've all secretly loved you.
So why not stay the same!
Rainbow, Rainbow
you bring us joy
You shed light too our day.
So go back to your ways
Rainbow, Rainbow
we appreciate your love!
We see differently now
so stay who you are.
Rainbow, Rainbow!
That's who I am.
A girl of 14
who is oddly at best.
Rainbow, Rainbow!
Everyone calls me that.
I'm just a use for you all
, but i don't mind that.
Rainbow, Rainbow
A mirror image I am.
A reflection of colors
that most people don't understand.
Rainbow, Rainbow
you called my name?
Why hello I'm here.
To shed light to your day
poem by Michelle Mawyin
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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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Piano Lessons
Piano lessons and the key notes that touched your heart,
My fingers on the keys are like my fingers on your love;
And there you sat and watched me play all day long.
Enquire into my past and enquire into my love today,
For tomorrow comes and you will be with me again;
Because you are the one that i love and,
These piano lessons are meant for your love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Let Me Be Your Piano
you do love
ivory keys
and you do
like pressing
my body
so my strings
shall sing
you love songs
let me be
your piano
touch me
press every
key i have
in my body
i will sing
the best notes
of love for you:
do, do, me,
ti, ti, la, me,
do, re, do, me
me, do, ti, me
so, so, so, fa, me
ti, ti, la, ti, ti, la, me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Grand Piano
The grand piano stood in the corner
no longer played anymore.
Once it stood under the spotlights
in crowded concert halls.
Famous musicians from around the world
sat and played concertos
and solo arias with soft melodic tones.
Each note graced lovely
from eagerly expectant ears.
Now the crowds have disappeared,
loving fingers no longer graced
its black and white keys.
The grand piano just stands alone
locked with memories
of the great old days.
25 October 2008
poem by David Harris
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I Love A Piano
[1st verse:]
As a child I went wild when a band played
How I ran to the man when his hand swayed
Clarinets were my pets, and a slide trombone I thought was simply
Divine
But today when they play I could hiss them
Evry bar is a jar to my system
But theres one musical instrument that I call mine
[chorus:]
I love a piano, I love a piano
I love to hear somebody play
Upon a piano, a grand piano
It simply carries me away
I know a fine way to treat a steinway
I love to run my fingers oer the keys, the ivories
And with the pedal I love to meddle
When padarewski comes this way
Im so delighted if Im invited
To hear that long haired genius play
So you can keep your fiddle and your bow
Give me a p-i-a-n-o, oh, oh
I love to stop right beside an upright
Or a high toned baby grand
[2nd verse:]
When a green tetrazine starts to warble
I grow cold as an old piece of marble
I allude to the crude little party singer who dont know when to pause
At her best I detest the soprano
But I run to the one at the piano
I always love the accompniment and thats because
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living Life
i let things
come as they are
like the rain
that falls
and the river
that brings the
water out to sea
i take life
like how love flows
negotiates
its way over
every of the
piano keys
to make it to
your heart
i take life
like how
your deft
fingers go
never question
how each dribbles
over the keys
to bring out the
sweet notes of our life
i let troubles
come and go
like the rain fall
and the river that brings
the water out to sea
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Piano Bench
sun setting,
...azure tint.
the piano bench empty,
dust gathers on the keys.
the grass damp with dew,
the wind still, and quiet.
the bookshelf sags
with books long ignored.
people walk by without talking,
darkness opens its mouth... swallows.
the lamp forlorn and chilled
waits without hope for a bulb.
nothing to say that can say,
words fall like leaves to the ground.
the room empty haunted by form,
curls up inside it's own hollow.
no fingers to touch the keys!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Piano
Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.
In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.
So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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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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Elephant's Graveyard III
Sanctified by elephants since time began-
elephants who accept their end uncomplainingly
with relief and nary a snivel
having long ago made it a point to live their lives well
and confident of this just repose.
'Oh, my God, ' you think, 'all the ivory.'
Ivory laying about, half-sunk, everywhere
strewn, grass-entangled, trip-you-up ivory,
because that's what's left of an elephant, after a bit-
after a century or so, that's quite all that's left,
a tusk of ivory bearing in this respect
a sharp resemblance to a man's poetic toil
or the opera-ticket stub found in his breast pocket
by his grand-child, rummaging in the attic
a century after the time when the music stopped
and stopped forever, never to again resume;
toppled stalagmites of ivory, some taller than a man,
cracked by the sun, washed by the rain, buffed by the moon.
Surely, someone would buy all that ivory for market
dice to make, dominoes, piano keys, dentures;
But how to get it home-would Swiss-Air take it?
stowed in sheaths...
poem by Morgan Michaels
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A silly poem about keys
Keys can open doors
they can lock you in
keys on a piano
but not on a Violin.
Keys to a safe
inside a vault
keys lost again
well that's your fault.
Keys on an old typewriter
and on a modern laptop
keys stolen by a thief
to break into a shop.
Keys hang on a keyring
or on a fancy chain
but how on earth can you
dropp them down a drain?
Keys for this and that
a key lying under the mat
having to rush to the Vet
it's been swallowed by the cat.
So I'll end this poem now
and try and get my key
I dropped it down a drain
oh stupid and silly me!
poem by Kevin Halls
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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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a Thought....
There is a lady by the lake
She plays the Piano
At night sadly
The moon listens and remembers
Just like any abandoned lover
A song
Learned by the Heart
and Until
Now is never forgotten
The notes from the Piano
Swim in the Lake like some fishes
Wishing to be stars....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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