Through Paris 1970
As you rode through Paris
in the packed coach
the radio played
Beethoven's Piano Concerto #5
and Mamie
sat beside you
her head to one side
sleeping
her mouth open
like some fish
out of water
her hands tucked
between her thighs
her blue skirt
riding high
and the slow movement
of the Beethoven piece
began
the piano playing softy
as the bright lights
of Paris
lit up
the dull space
inside the coach
and you closed your eyes
laying a hand
surreptiously
over hers
hearing the piano
and orchestra
as if in a dream
and Mamie
never minded
your hand
on hers
or so you thought then
and as now
it would seem.
poem by Terry Collett

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
The Poetry At Night Time And Beethoven's Piano Music
this is like playing the piano pieces
at night when everyone in the neighborhood is already sleeping,
they wonder if there is a ghost in this house
someone that cannot accept death someone that claims
an unfinished business
still roaming in limbo and plays the piano at night
they are all disturbed and will close their windows earlier
turn off the lights and retreat inside their thick blankets
the piano is heard and it is playing some pieces of Beethoven
the story of his death...
it is not the same with your poetry
all night long, you write, and there is no stopping and the neighbors think
that everything is all right
that the lights are on because there is a baby in the house
it is you that sob silently inside the limbo of your dreams
that refuse to die
roaming the streets at night
breathing the cold in the darkness
the following morning, nothing is changed
the neighbors as usual do their normal activities
the street is heavy with traffic
people are busy chasing the hours
and there is no stopping anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Failed Musician
Failed Musician?
My uncle died, he was on holiday in Piraeus when a pig fell off
a balcony, he left a piano and since his wife didn’t want it in her
house, mother took it, only because it would lend an impression
of high culture, and no one else in our neighbourhood had one.
I played on it day and night, picked up tunes on radio and played
them on the piano; people where impressed, mother too, but she
needed her rest worked long hours at a canning factory; one day,
coming home from school, a big empty space, I cried mother gave
me Danish pastry, they were a day old but still tasty. I’m glad she
sold the piano, though I might have ended up a restaurant pianist
driving from town to town playing evergreens as background music
for bored diners
poem by Oskar Hansen

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
I play the piano and have been playing since I was 7, mainly classical Chopin, Beethoven, Mozart.
The way it works: The orchestra plays a few selections of its own and I terminate the first part of the programme on piano, usually with a movement from a Mozart concerto.
quote by George Shearing

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I'm quite proud of my piano playing. Robin's never played a note on the piano at our recording sessions. I just wish I could be appreciated musically now.
quote by Maurice Gibb

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I bought a piano once because I had the dream of playing As Time Goes By as some girl's leaning on it drinking a martini. Great image. But none of it worked out. I can't even play Chopsticks. But I've got a nice piano at my house!
quote by George Clooney

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I was in Paris at an English-language bookstore. I picked up a volume of Dickinson's poetry. I came back to my hotel, read 2,000 of her poems and immediately began composing in my head. I wrote down the melodies even before I got to a piano.
quote by Gordon Getty

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I wanted to play piano in restaurants in the south of France. I went there on holiday once and I saw this guy playing in an old tuxedo. He was all disheveled, with a whisky glass on the piano. I thought that was the coolest thing. So what's happened to me with 'Twilight' isn't really what I'd planned.
quote by Robert Pattinson

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
And I've played piano since I was little, so I was originally the piano player in the band.
quote by Caroline Corr

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Heaven
The piano played its final tune
And strings got torn in two
And the old lady sang her final song
As her grand-daughter cried all way through
It's the end of a chapter
An era in time
The piano lid closes
The old lady shuts her eyes
And drifts to a land far away
The last generation ends
But doesn't go to waste
It's a sad story that happens all the time
Unfortunately......
But one day this old lady will open her eyes, sing again
And the piano will mend it's strings and play again
And her grand-daughter will hear this song
And smile..... instead of cry
She'll smile again.
poem by Lucy Vernezze

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
The Beethoven Experience provided the opportunity to solidify the relationship between the Orchestra and me, the Orchestra and me and the public, between all of us and the city of New York, because Beethoven after all is a really amazing point of reference.
quote by Lorin Maazel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Twilight Turns
The twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blue,
The lamp fills with a pale green glow
The trees of the avenue.
The old piano plays an air,
Sedate and slow and gay;
She bends upon the yellow keys,
Her head inclines this way.
Shy thought and grave wide eyes and hands
That wander as they list -- -
The twilight turns to darker blue
With lights of amethyst.
poem by James Joyce

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
about the ash from Yuri N., she writes it
I once knew
a lady at our church
who played the piano -
Her name was Naomi...
she was quiet,
maybe insignificant...
but I knew her
(only from church) ...
when I heard one Sunday
that she had died
and had been buried
without me knowing,
I grieved for days....
that was 8 years ago...
I still sometimes
think of her,
thinking that,
in some way
she enriched my life -
I cannot remember
her piano-playing,
but I still grieve
nevertheless....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!