I sit on the seat in front of it,
Lift the lid and there they are,
Eighty-eight of them
Looking at me expectantly.
There are white ones,
Fifty-six of them,
Black ones,
Thirty-two of them.
They all stare at me,
Wanting me to touch them,
To press them down.
I press one,
And a note sounds,
That is fine.
I press another one,
A little harder,
And a louder note sounds
But it is not music.
Music comes from the soul,
Through the fingers,
To create wonderful sounds,
On this mechanical instrument
Of hammers and strings.
I try and play it,
And can get tunes from it,
But they fall into insignificance
When the masters play,
The Piano.
-
Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 15th, 2017 03:09
- Comment from author about the poem: The Pianist in the clip is Victor Borge and very fine pianist and a very funny man, he never completed a piece of music. I saw him live back in the 1970's, he sat down at the piano and said he was going to play 'Clair de Lune' by Debussey. He started playing, the lights went down and he got to the last four bars of the piece and fell off his stool, he got up and said "Sorry, I fell asleep".
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 34
Offline)
Comments6
A fine write Gold. you can accompany me in my caterwauling - erm, singing!
We would make a good pair, me playing all the right notes but not in the right places and you singing all the wrong notes in all the wrong places. A new genre of music perhaps - lets call it pop music.
And I can play the right alternate notes backwards on the fiddling stick.
Err a great write by the way Goldie about my favourite instrument and - yes - VB used to keep me laughing many years ago.
Thanks Michael, he was a very funny man.
I realized early on in my younger days that playing piano was beyond my reach artistically but my heart needed an artistic outlet. So I was led (erratically) to writing, hence my meager poetic endeavors. I too know I'll never reach the heights of the poet giants but at least my heart gets fulfillment from art in a small way. Gold, your poem brought these thoughts to mind. I envy your ability to practice art both musical and poetic. A beautiful tableau presented here.
Thank you Seeker, we are all looking for fulfilment in some way no matter how meagre it may be but we need to try, as do we all.
A wonderful poem about being able to play such a beautiful instrument. I tried to play. It's such an outlet. Great poem!
Thank you Christina, if only I could play it like the masters, but that will never happen but there are other means at hand in which to try and fulfil my life.
Ah yes, I remember the fabulous Victor Borge! I took piano lessons as a child but, alas, didn't stick to it. The piano is one of my favorite instruments.
Good tribute poem, Goldie, to the instrument to and Victor, both!
Thank you Louis, I too learned as a child and I still go back to it occasionally but not with any great prowess.
Great write Goldie! It made me remember when my daughter took piano lessons. She did it for seven years! Wasn’t devoted to it! At age twelve she informed me she was stopping. Refused any more lessons! I said fine...it’ll save me money! Well, today she’s thankful of what she learned! She now accompanies herself when she auditions for gigs! She’s a soprano...classical music! Very successful may I say!
I needed to this read right now...after that filth that was posted by a new member! I’m glad everyone is reporting it!
Music ever leaves you when it is learned, I am glad that your daughter is getting on well with her music, I am a bass in three choirs and performing is wonderful, I am sure that she will say the same.
That obnoxious animal will get his comeuppance!!!
Re: I hope soon!!!
I watched the movie first and it really put me into the right mood to read your poem, Goldie! I occasionally dabble around a bit on my keyboard. Am not too bad with my right hand, but awful with my left (and I am a leftie, go figure!).
I do like your musical poem!
Thank you Fred, music is like breathing to me, I couldn't be without it.
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