piano
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the same notes repeat
a rippling treble, quick and aloof
She paints her feelings
too quick for me to clear her head
act or not, I won't care
Do you ever sit down
And imagine performing
A beautiful masterpiece
In front of thousands of people?
I do. Pretty regularly in fact.
Walking on keys,
clink, clink, clink,
each one makes a different note.
Whether I hop, walk, or run,
I make a happy melody.
White, black, white, black,
incomplete stripes.
Walking on keys,
When you're rushing back and forth in desperation,You will find me
When you're so in over your head at night under your blanket,
The mountains are black shadowy peaks
Their valleys lined with snow soft and deep.
No birds or trees inhabit this place
To most it’s an empty desolate waste.
Despite the country’s shortfalls
Those black and white keys
That every person sees
Is significant to me
One woman changed my life
When lessons began one night
When life became depressing
She was my biggest blessing
Mr. Sean,
you are the coolest person I know.
When I met you, your hair had a streak of electric blue
and it was the most badass thing I’d ever seen,
Dear Piano,
I have spent hours at your bench each day,
Practicing as the metronome ticks away.
You provide a space, be it ever so small,
There are both black and white notes,
And there is always another chord,
But I don't want to lose what we wrote.
I'm pushing the pedal down,
Praying to hold our sound.
Though,
I know it will fade away.
What brings me to a state of tranquility and relief Are the sweet, youthful harmoniesDelivered from a melodic instrument made of polished carved woodWhat a beau
Music Sheets,
A vessel to carry my words further than the wind can breeze.
Four hundred and twelve degrees...
During the times I’m feeling blue
I look around for things to do
To keep myself occupied
And dwell on the brighter side
Of the aspects in life
To get through my strife
I listen to music and sing a song
The keys of the old blues
Play troubled, terrific truths.
Speaking the heart’s mind
Of breaths hard, faces lined
In half time, full hop, and sadly sweet sounds
The blues are where living is seen, is found.
I didn't know
Until now
That you
Were gone
It took me
Six months
To find out
And I was
Speechless
I had nothing
To say
I didn't cry
But somehow
Eighty and eight keysThat's all I needTo open my soul to humanityTo keep me freedIf I lost it allIf I couldn't seeAt least I'd have but eighty and eight keys
Tone
notes slide off the page as the unending sweet sound of the keys sing a melody that my heart reaches out to
Dynamics
A pile of wood and ivory.
Her tired frame sits uncomfortably
until I join her.
The music leaves my mind in a rush of fire,
through my veins and out of my fingertips it explodes
when I take my seat.
I sit down and get ready.
I play one note, then a second, then a third,
and then I'm playing the entire song.
My fingers glide across the keys
of my black and white life.
I need my black and white
Not because you’re beautiful,
Not because you’re bright,
I need you because you bring music into my life.
Through the rough times
I need my black and white
Not because you’re beautiful,
Not because you’re bright,
I need you because you bring music into my life.
Through the rough times
So many things
That many people don't know
The enlightenment they seek
Is nothing more than whispers in the dark
A song that plays and speaks
You work and it's for nothing
You try and practice over and over
Loving the keyboard like a child
Touching it like a lover
And it rejects you
You spend hours trying to play
The gentle strum of fingers on a guitar,
Transporting the eager listener to lands of afar,
The pianist’s gentle caress of the keys,
Expressing melodies akin to the waves of seas,
Notes.
Not like the ones
made of trees.
Floats.
across the air,
through the keys.
Jazz Pianists' fingers tell no lies,
traveling through the
White and Black Sky.
Play me like a piano
Let your fingers glide over my keys
Strike a chord
Resounding and clear
Make music that everyone can hear
Write a melody
And play of me a song
Gliding across black and white keys
Fingers pop, then bang and clang.
Their resolution is quiet, subdued by a brass pedal
Another movement begins,
heart pounding;
Sometimes I wish my you were a piano
So I could understand every chord and melody.
Though you are a memory.
As my mahogany instrument.
Fingers poised and ready,
Time to keep them steady.
Don't worry about your dress,
Now take a steady breath.
One, two, three fingers start,
Two more join in, creating an art.
Music is flowing,
Movement 1
Andante*
4/4*
Blacks and white, sharps and flats
A straight line of keys, an exacting technique
In commanding whispers it sems the keys speak
Saying "practice, practice, don't delay
The mascot of Nintendo;
And the greatest hero of all time.
He loves jumping around;
Grabbing Mushrooms and Fire Flowers;
Stomping on Enemies;
Exploring the Mushroom World;
When I feel sad or I feel confused;
If I'm feeling blue or a little down,
I find relief and escape from it all,
so treacherous is thismusic and its blissso hopeful was II would never trysomething to shareis always theresomething to fearis always herewhy tell if we knowit's been a show
Her name is not what matters.
Our first encounter was on my 12th birthday.
Her magnificent tune chimed throughout the house as she uttered her first words--
Sweet chirps blended with trickling waterfalls
Taunt fingers touch the stringsAll musings of pain forgottenWeightlessly they float over and againIn a delicate repetitious pattern
Do. Mi. Fa. So. La. Ti. Do.Do you ever think about me, as you continue your days?Repeating the melodic phrase.Might as well watch you from a far and praise you for your hardwork, and end up being amazed.
Raw emotion pours from my soul.
Like a winding road, it cannot be defined by a straight line.
It turns, then rises.
Veers, then dips.
A simple butterfly before you start
The sweaty palms and warming up.
All your worries and fears come flying in
I am imperturbable and versatile
I wonder about dramatic compositions on the succinct sheet of life I hear nothing surround me except my malleable mind urging me to play the keys of time correctly
Silky, satin keys leap
Underneath my fingertips;
Living in the moment
With nothing on my mind
Eons away from my problems
It all began when my dad killed my fish,
when I cried and said a new CD was my only wish
I was only three when he brought one home
And it only took me 2 days to learn every song
The sulky piano speaks its sad song.
Its tears spill out as minor cords.
Its black and white dressing shows no color,
But its slow song brings happiness
To creatures close enough to hear.
And that’s all it needs
I don’t feel you anymore
Numb to spine shaking vibratos
Your crescendos don’t stretch my rib cage like they used to
My dearest piano, you were the only friend that never stopped listening
i met an ivory-toothed monster
he said "hello" and sang some notes
i found comfort in his beautiful tone
i found comfort in the things that we wrote
i remember his ebony bones
I only play with my black keys,
My lovely black keys.
The only keys I can trust
Keys I can put my faith in
The white keys don't understand me
The white keys
My heart is a lonely hunter.
My arrow drawn, ready to strike,
Tears toward the target, bringing it to life.
A faint piano begins easing through the silence.
Black like a crow,
White like snow,
A sound that I have come to know.
Hands on the keys,
Playing with ease,
Not many know it's my expertise.
Tells me stories
Each time I play
Pleasing to the ear when music is made.
Its beauty cannot be defined.
Any key that is pressed; a new sound awakes.
Notes are played, changed, and combined.
Once experienced, it won't be forgotten.
Music, the icing on the cake,
Music, the jubilant fish in the lake.
The vibes of my heart,
The most colorful form of art.
My bright life and happiness so far,
Comes with the lid of the piano slightly ajar.
See the silent voices on the stand
The black and white beneath your hand
Do you dare to touch or even look
You gaze at the lines in the open book
The dots that bounce with yearning song
As I gaze upon the faces,
Of the children of this nation,
I see a myriad of things
Various different emotions,
Dreaming and wishing and hoping,
And I know that they can achieve,
Night after night, he returns in my dreams.
His nimble fingers glide over the keys.
His elegant hands move around freely.
An angel of music sits before me.
The sudden crash of a chord
Entwined still with soft melody
Long, slender fingers dance
On black and white
Bought by my grandma, than passed
on to my mother, who then
passed it to me, is a little
piano with the notes
written on the
keys.
Though old and worn as a school girl's first
“Tickling the Ivory” runs like blood through my family.
Great grandma, grandma, mom, and I.
It's a legacy I hope is never left behind.
The sun squeezes through the tiny square in the upper corner of the practice room. I sit on the dusty tile floor.
I watch her setup notes for today.
Would you sit with me again,
and pour your heart in song?
As I crawl and drag myself along,
You crawled too, shared my burden with me.
Walking towards the stage,
Trying not to cry.
This better make the front page,
For I’m about to die.
Smokey windows, shattered glass
Broken souls looking for healing
Coughing, woots and hollers
A passing waitress, traveling hands and cat calls
Dusty tables and creaky floors
One spot light
"So this one time, at band camp..",
Is a phrase often heard,
When one is informed,
That I am a band nerd.
I wake up at dawn,
For the ever simple pleasure,
To memorize my music,
Measure by measure.
I close my eyes
And let the sounds fill me
Drift off to a world that only I see
I can do anything
Or love anyone
All my struggles are lost in the song.
I hear the bass,
The melody;
I feel my beating soul
It marches in time with the tempo,
It sings along with the slow.
Some days I cannot slumber,
While others I cannot wake
I hear the piano,
