Piano vs. Guitar
i sat down at the piano bench for 10 whole years
i never stood up and moved away because of my fears
that i had been wasting my time and i wouldnt express myself
i couldnt rewrite erase scratch out replace what i had been taught
not by myself always with a hand moving me left to right right to left
until that day i wasn't afraid to stand and i saw myself not moving just
shifting from side to side i was only getting morose with no sense of wit or pride
i could get soulful and stand and swing liek the wind on the trees and no more was i trying to express myself on the piano on the keys where my fingers tried to get crazy but all i could do was type at the same rate with a bomb between my knees
so i saw my dad's guitar one day and my hands went up and down and not
from side to side and i didn't have to sit down and i choked the neck, twisted the head and realized that i saw in the face of what i could become and never hide
i saw in the face of it who i wanted to be, not what i was but what i could be come
and my past was behind me, and it chided me antagonized me until i saw that
my hand worked better as a claw
my father's guitar i saw it and i saw his face and i saw mine too and since that day i learned to scratch out and erase and revise what i felt inside and what i could
express and that i could get soulful when i wasn't sitting down to rest at the bench
to stagnate to get comfortable and masturbate and never get out of my comfort zone so my mind vacated the place where i was sat naked
i could get soulful and stand and swing liek the wind on the trees and no more was i trying to express myself on the piano on the keys where my fingers tried to get crazy but all i could do was type at the same rate with a bomb between my knees
waiting to explode, or reload the dissapointment inside my head untill i remembered that one lost phrase that my fingers once said on that guitar with that bar chord sliding up and down and noticing that for the first time i could get funky and move around.
poem by Maxwell Ames
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For All Pianos All Around The World
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piano brand name
anno piano twenty twelve
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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By your side
I stand watching you throw away your life
you are wearing a wedding ring
yet you have lost your wife
because you look around the room
and you cant find your pride
I stand by your side.
What do you have?
you say you have nothing
but you cant see what you have lost
and you say you will stop
but the drink is all you have got
you look around
and you cant find your pride
I stand by your side.
Your face is cut from a drunken fight
and every morning is a drunken night
the poison you persist must take your sight
leaving you with not one brain cell left
the alcohol has gone to your head
a park bench has become your bed.
I stand by your side unlike your health
but I cant help unless you help yourself
what do you have? Look.
See you cant find your pride.
Understand I cant stand by your side.
poem by Daniel McCann
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One-Finger Typist (Fun Poem 122)
I used to be a one-finger typist
and as the one finger wore down,
I discovered how to use two.
Finding that easy to score
and with the added bonus
of being able to play
chopsticks on the piano as well,
I decided to add a little bonus
and increased my fingers to three
and then on to four.
All on the same hand, I might add.
One day my left hand
feeling left in the lurch
decided it was going to join in
and my fingers typing doubled
to the number eight.
The thumbs then got jealous
and came into play.
Now both hands of fingers and thumbs
dance merrily across the keys,
but there I have a problem,
as they all want to press a key simultaneously.
Slowly words with three or four letters
were getting left behind
and I could only type words
with eight letters with two hyphens in between.
Confused? I was as well
as everything I typed became double hyphenated
and made no sense at all.
In desperation and frustration,
I reverted to being a one-finger typist
and now you know the story of my plight.
As for the other fingers,
well they got a new position
of multi-tasking elsewhere.
poem by David Harris
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Selling the Guitar
The old strings of this guitar
they argue with my fingers
Perhaps the E string
with its proud tone
has better things to do
Maybe one night
this guitar
chose to become a piano
or speak other languages
Someone put the words
Out of tune
It no longer understands me
Now the songs refuse to be heard
Now things don't sound the same
And this guitar, I'm selling-
Perhaps has something against my fingers.
poem by Elvis Lantan
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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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The Place
Under the shade
On the north side
Of an old Victorian home
There is a place
Chained from its roof
Is a simple swing
This swing created
The 'Place'
The place away from all chaos
While sitting there.......
Imagination can take you
To 'your place '
Once while I was sitting there
I let myself travel
To a day
That felt like it had no end..
I looked at that 'swing' now
Being pushed from side to side
By winds without time
Its loneliness makes me shed a tear.
There was a time
The swing and I
Were not alone
A day I still remember passionately
It had no end
The day darkened to night
Its end was only the light.
The sky changed
Weaved in colors of blues
Progressively going to black
Light of stars breaking through the darkness
The end of this day was only the beginning
Beside me
Was a fine lady
Fair and kind
Once upon a time
Her hand
grasped inside mine
Small and simple
This kind affection
Given to me
There came an end
To an endless day
That lady kind and fair
Said 'She was not there
For me
Today I will shed another tear
And another tear
For that lady dear
I will never forget
Sitting on that swing
Complications and commitments
Of life pulled her hand away from me
Thinking to myself
Was her hand really in mine
Once upon a time
poem by Howard Johnson
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Glad To Be Happy
Yesterday I was glad that I m happy
I don't know the reason to be,
But I danced with the tune as
I am glad to be happy
Unable to express I started playing drums
Don't know how to hold that one
But trying as I am glad
But it sounds damn hell
So unable to express again
This time with a guitar I begin
Hardly a minute and 3 rd one gone
Still I m glad to be happy
I don't know the reason to be..
So unable to express again
This time in painter's style
Trying a country side
But it was almost suicide
It turns out to be a modern art
And was 1st in that chart
Still unable to express
That I m glad to be happy
Trying to express again
But don't know what to do
I m not a drummer nor a guitarist
Nor a painter or any artiest
So searching someone to express
I called u up and said
I m glad that I am happy
I don't know the reason to be…
poem by Jaideep Garg
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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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Under Apple Trees
She lay beside you
under the apple trees
the bees and butterflies overhead
the glimmer of sunlight
through the branches
and she said
I can smell the apples
from here
and if I close my eyes
I feel I'm in a foreign field
lying in some overseas orchard
and happy beneath the sun
and you turned your head
and said
Am I with you
lying in that orchard
beneath a foreign sun?
and you studied her profile
the shadows dancing
across her cheek
a butterfly just above her head
Sure
she said
As if I'd dream of anywhere
without you by my side
and she reached out a hand
and touched your fingers
with hers and it seemed
a pulse danced
between the fingers
as if love momentarily
could be felt
could be sensed
in the space
between fingers
and riding
in the hearts
and heads
and she turned
to face you
her eyes reflecting
a different sun
and your hand sliding
along her thigh
and she shaking
her head slightly
eased out
a soft sigh.
poem by Terry Collett
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Allegra's Guitar
Allegra strummed her guitar softly
Each chord gently rolls off her fingers
Sweet no-thingness blissed thy ears
La musica drifted lightly ever more
She hummed gingerly along with the tune
No words were spoken, as she played
Closing her eyes she felt the kiss
Such naturalness flowing inside
Endorphins swirling in the limelight
Surpasseth an understanding of most
A love so divine money cannot buy
Much too many songs for her to express
Truly rejuevenating the souls quest
Her heart speaks a language not all may hear
You, me, the trees - Her audience is vast
A marriage made in heaven few know
Oh, such freedom; the seed now sown
Beautiful peace fulfills the spirit
A land of plenty; happiness shines here
Allegra continues strumming her guitar
Yes, dear
poem by Hope Hills
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Drunken Head Blues
Well the bricks are piled on main street
And the sun is turning brown
Anybody with any sense
Has already left town
The beast is hollering lonesome
And the ghost of rimbaud rides
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
I can hear a dog someplace barking
I hear the wind begin to moan
At night I walk these rain splattered streets
Dead on my feet and all alone
My dreams begin to crumble
I can feel the downward slide
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
I have seen all of my dreams
Slipping away like sand
Love has grown wings and left me
Flown right out of my hand
Now Im weary and bruised from singing the blues
And my fortunes are down
My face and my walk are known
In every bar and dive in town
You can ask me where am I going
But Ill let your question ride
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
Ive got a handful of mist
Ive got a barrel of it
What do I do with it
Now Ive got no place to run
And Ive got no place to hide
All my trials, all my cares
All my worries, all my pride
All my sins, all my troubles
Theyre being washed in by the tide
And I wish, how I wish
That I could get on that horse
And ride and ride, ride and ride, ride and ride
Onto the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side, the other side, the other side...
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drunken Head Blues
Well the bricks are piled on main street
And the sun is turning brown
Anybody with any sense
Has already left town
The beast is hollering lonesome
And the ghost of rimbaud rides
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
I can hear a dog someplace barking
I hear the wind begin to moan
At night I walk these rain splattered streets
Dead on my feet and all alone
My dreams begin to crumble
I can feel the downward slide
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
I have seen all of my dreams
Slipping away like sand
Love has grown wings and left me
Flown right out of my hand
Now Im weary and bruised from singing the blues
And my fortunes are down
My face and my walk are known
In every bar and dive in town
You can ask me where am I going
But Ill let your question ride
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
Ive got a handful of mist
Ive got a barrel of it
What do I do with it
Now Ive got no place to run
And Ive got no place to hide
All my trials, all my cares
All my worries, all my pride
All my sins, all my troubles
Theyre being washed in by the tide
And I wish, how I wish
That I could get on that horse
And ride and ride, ride and ride, ride and ride
Onto the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side
Ride on to the other side, the other side, the other side...
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Now Ive got a pain in my soul
And its fifteen miles wide
Ive got a drunken head full of reasons why
Ive got a broken heart inside
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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
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051410G cuddling around
throbbing reverberates around
slipping through known sound
i'm enjoying holding your hand
i lean my face on your warm palm
you comb my hair with your fingers
you bend getting closer for whispers
quick strum of guitar raise my eyelids
i turn searching; where is your lips
you started to talk i put my finger on
you remain quiet and wanted to bite
i pulled and i tickled you, on your side
you hug my head between your chest
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Down By The Side Of The Road
Her father was a failure
Her mother was a comfort
To a doctor and lawyer and indian chief.
The shirt ran out of buttons
He lost all his marbles at a baseball game
And they went on relief.
The bank took away their diplomas
They locked them up inside of the chest
And she moved away to oklahoma
And got a tattoo on the side of her breast
God-damn, my socks are still hard
From lying on the sofa on the night she was over in my backyard
Yeah, we was shooting the breeze out amongst the trees
When a shot rang low
And left her standing down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Father have mercy, whoo whoo
Get her a nurse please
Shes almost alone
I saw her hand reaching out for the telephone
We rather see her locked up inside a home
Than see her standing down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Headlights flashing on her skirt in the wind.
Yonder comes a truck it drove by two men.
Shotgun man leaned out and said do you want to take a ride?
Out in the pale moonlight light. light light lie lie lie lie
Too long in the hot sun
She couldve be miss wisconsin a long time ago
Spent to much time inside of the early show
Wed bought her a ticket but she didnt want to go
She was standing down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Headlights flashing, caught a skirt in the wind.
Yonder comes a truck it drove by two men.
Shotgun man leaned out and said do you want to take a ride?
Out in through the pale moonlight
Her father was a failure
Her mother was a comfort
To a doctor and lawyer and indian chief.
The shirt made out of buttons
He lost all his marbles at a baseball game
And they went on relief.
The bank took away their diplomas
They locked them up inside of the chest
And she moved away to oklahoma
And got a tattoo on the side of her breast
God-damn, my thoughts are still hard.
From lying on the sofa on the night she was overi n my backyard
Yeah, we was shooting the breeze out amongst the trees
When a shot rang low
And left her standing down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
Down by the side of the road
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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4% Of Something
4% of something's
Better than 10% of nothing blue
4% of something's
Better than 10% of nothing blue
Well I don't like the way you work
It's all I can do
Working on a number
My fingers to the bone on my guitar
Working on a number
My fingers to the bone on my piano
All I got the end of the day
Is a message from the King
4% of something's
Better than 10% of nothing blue
4% of something's
Better than 10% of nothing blue
Well I don't like the way you work
It's all I can do
I'm trying to scratch a living
But, all this man is giving me is the blues
I'm trying to scratch a living
But, all the man is giving me is the blues
I've got to find a way to make my music play
Or I'm gonna lose my mind
4% of something's
Better than 10% of nothing blue
4% of something's
Better than 10% of nothing blue
Well I don't like the way you work
It's all I can do
4% of something's
Better than 10% of nothing blue
4% of something's
Better than 10% of nothing blue
Well I don't like the way you work
It's all I can do
4% of something's
Better than 10% of nothing blue
[Repeat to fade]
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Just a Little Guitar Dot Com
I got this beginners electric guitar...
No! I didn't want to become a rock star..
I just loved the guitar too much...
I wasn't satisfied just by its touch...
I went to justin guitars.com
Like a kid getting lessons from his mom..
He teaches well, i dont deny it..
but i just cannot commit...
I dream of learning it all overnight...
but in reality it just gets farther away from my sight....
Great guitar gods out there....
i heard u play guitar just by moving fingers in the air...? ?
Teach me some cheap tricks...
A few guitar licks..
Teach me how to shred...
Till my fingernails are dripping blood...
Teach me how to get my god damn pinky moving...
I swear...it f**king doesnt show any scope of improving..
My friend is so obsessed with gilmour...
I cant stand him anymore...
He's been trying to bend those strings of his acoustic..
Trust me he could have done better with chicks..! ! .
This is our situation...
We need an upliftment now...
We need some musical rain..
Falling from above..
Great guitar gods out there...
I say, this is not at all fair...
U get to bend it, hammer it, pull off with perfection..
and we dont get even a tiny bit of attention...? ?
i mean we're noobies...agreed
but we are trying...
and i swear...
I am not lying..
Just what's the secret..?
I wanna know...
Learning may take time..
But i am miserably slow..
Great guitar gods out there..
Help us now alright...
Inject us with ur poison..
Shoot us with ur love gun..
Again, we are just noobies...
We dont dream for joe sat or malmstien..
We just wanna play some decent music..
So please help us before we fall sick...
All we are asking for is..
Just a little guitar dot com.
poem by Harihara Sudhahar Ramamoorthy
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