The curtains are open, fresh bread and jam sit on the table
Outside in the rain I sit wishing for a bite if I was able
As night closes in the warmth inside I still see
Jumping puddles and wet, a crack in the door is there for me
A wood stove brings light and a place to dry off
The floorboards and an old linen bring comfort from the storm
Rain stops and the moon shines in windows below the loft
A little mouse am I, but happy, dry, and warm
My nose still smells bread and jam, but I begin to dream
I don't want to leave here, this place, my heart strings gleam
All is quiet now, everyone has retired, the kitchen still illuminated in soft light
I scamper around the old table and there I spot it, crumbs! I timed it just right!
This cottage is beautiful I think I shall stay a while
A small gap in the stones by the shed will be my own at night
The occupants here play melodies from a grand piano which brings me a smile
This family, and me shall live together and coincide, a place in the world, a little mouse am I
In 2013 Amélie Ségarra danced on a Grand Piano with knives
taped to the tips of her feet.
The room is empty apart from a single man in a music box
He wears a black an white suit buttoned up to the collars with bronze cufflinks,
To get up she uses an old Woven Rope in brown
You can see her nipples as she looks up, Adam's apple following her gaze
along with everything else.
She starts dancing.
From above the waist her arms jut out, grabbing widely at air and trust
But below it's easy
At times it looks harder to be the piano.
Remember how close she got to the edge.
Rapidly tapping the tips of toes, taped into shoes,
Screwed onto knives.
At times the screech was louder than the music.
Engaging her hips she’d lift up her thigh, bent at the knee
The arch of her foot seeming to just hang there.
Before it drops she makes the sound of a boxer.
Something only rooms with loud figures giving orders to lots of people
doing the same thing in repetition can bring out.
The music has stopped, so now all you hear is knee engaging ankle,
Holding up a foot wrapped in pink ruffled straps.
Smalling down an into
a seemingly endless
Grand Piano.
To the man with a skillful hand and a loyal brush, take my words and bring them to life for me.
Paint me a grand piano, with tiles so clean they form a beautiful smile, gracefully greeting the skillful hands that have come to play.
You will give it stable legs, thick and made of steel, legs strong enough to withstand the weight of the songs it will soon play.
To the man painted with a skillful ear and loyal fingers, play me the song written by my soul. Here, you will see your fingers stutter before your eyes to play a broken tune, they will stumble along these perfect keys as they play my discordant song; it will be perfect.
For the painting, will be a masterpiece.
For this painting, will be me, through your skill.
-Malebo.
21.12.2024
If we were friends again.
All I wished was to have a chance,
To sing our favourite songs,
While watching you play your drum set,
Along my piano, harmonica, and even guitar.
There were so much for us to share and care and
To treasure through out the rest of our life.
Christmas was all about joy, hope and kind.
What would you do on that special holy night?
I knew you would love to be on your own,
Lonely sitting in front of your whimsy desk,
Working hard on your laptop,
While I would be fiddling my fingers.
On the baby grand piano keyboards,
You raised a voice without making a sound,
When, I made sound out loud without my voice.
A straight-backed chair shadow-plays
a dark cello,
while emptiness falls
as heavy as a rain cloud.
An oak wood floor creaks
as a spectral bow
is moved by a shifting light.
The room once harbored a grand piano
it plays now to the mindful,
yet only as a distant echo,
a long past refrain
heard once more as a nocturn
for a whippoorwill.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Recent Edit
She came to visit me
and I laid out for her
the most beautiful black dress
She went into the private chambers
and put the black dress on
along with a set of diamond earrings
and necklace
From here I would whisk her away
to a private dinner
by candlelight
We would have lobster and shrimp
with mixed vegetables and corn
and some mashed potatoes too
She ate with manners complete
and ask to pause dinner
for a romantic dance
as the grand piano played
I took her in my arms
and I whispered
I will love you forever
and a day
From there we had a light dessert
and some chocolate
and chatted softly amongst true loves
We strolled on out to the beach
and watched the shooting stars
and commented on the moons of Jupiter
and the rings of Saturn
The constellations were our friends.
And then we touched and kissed
her lips tasted like raspberries and cream
and her skin was as soft as cotton
I would say the story ends here
but you are too innocent to hear the rest
as movements were in sync
with the fireworks above
Wonderful sunshine
Happiness to an angel
Singing through this cutie
A piece sung by Celine Dion
My Heart Will Go On.
Hot noon day a blazing fury
A poor PWD weightlifter
Trying her best practice religiously
Unmindful the poor physical condition of the gym
She's still manage to cup a prize for her name.
Misty cold evening at ground hotel
A lonesome romantic dancer
Dancing on the floor in rhythmic motion
Accompaniment of a grand piano
Played by a centenarian grandpa.
The decor of laces,
And fragrance of lavenders,
In the land of Georgia,
With attire of antiques,
The melody of wind chimes,
Echoing in harmony with grand piano,
Like heaven is playing harp,
And pearls bursting everywhere,
O, the modesty of it all,
Dressed up in high class,
Candles in rustic brass holder,
Lighting up off white wall,
Exploring ivory artfully crafted everywhere,
Rustic kitchen with wooden floor,
Washing bowl on cherry wooden table,
And outhouse under weeping willow tree,
Shining pond with lilies floating,
With creamy violets encompassing around,
A porch with rocking wooden chairs,
With peach ribbon decor everywhere,
Everything that resembles morality,
Were inked dry with a feather pen.
He sat upon my knee
At the tender age
of three
Completely and utterly
mesmerized was he
His very first visit
to a London theatre
He was hooked
He was addicted
just like me
Now aged 25
so many stars
shine in his eyes
Each time we go
‘tis truly a joyous occasion
For to watch live talent
for us needs no persuasion
Our latest adventure
Just him
just me
to Wembley we go
us both for to see
a man named Joe
Japanese pianist is he
Writes music
for his orchestra
grand piano he doth play
His music will stay with us
every night
and every day...
No 1242 NEW POEM ONLY' Contest Info
Sponsor Brian Strand
She looks at the grand piano, wonders
what might have been if she learned
years ago a few songs
I went driving with a rock star
who owns a Dodge Charger car
I do not know where we go or where we are
because my friend is a crazy weed smoking bipolar
my friend took me to his home with many empty rooms
his neck smelt of sweet perfume
he played the grand piano and sung me a favorite tune
when I heard" Hotel California,"I was over the moon
he played,"I can't make you love me "
and it matched us perfectly
The piano man is from Tennessee
he was a song writer on CD
he played gospel for evangelist on tv
Jeffery took me to music town in Memphis Mississippi
and played the grand piano at the Peabody
Jeffery lit up the room with a magical tune on the piano
a talented woman sang ,"Crying Over You, "in soprano
there was much applauding from Peabody guest
that Jeffery Martin was hired by manager request
I saw marching ducks at the Peabody
and a big crowd in the hotel lobby
Jefferey was waiting for bell boy on top of whisky
I wondered if his driving us home would be risky
I hear grand piano music floating in from afar
It is poetry so crisp, It's crystal clear
Poetry is chandeliers on high ceiling of white
It is polished parquet in spaces with soft light
Poetry is grand plies performed with perfect poise
Like choreographed parts you'll enjoy
Poetry is rainbow-arched windows, wide as love for you
Such language conveys heart's pulsation, soft as dew
But there's more!
Poetry is precious sound of deep unending peace
It tugs at our heartstring, new heights of joy we reach
Poetry awakens my soul to the good in you
Though caution comes in, love isn't the blues
Poetry is slow caress of each and every word
Like perfect pastels of my smiles, haven't you heard?
Poetry is alive like our rhythm without blues
It is vibrant, yet so profoundly smooth
Poetry is sun and moon in fullness of soft glow
Such friend favors everyone, wishing to grow
Poetry is starlight of joy in your eyes I see
It is spark I adore, when you're with me
Poetry is our stream of dreams flowing endlessly
It goes where divine might mingles with light, you'll see
Poetry is you and I in our silent orbs
Inspiring song, dance, and serenity.
*
Grand Piano
Exquisite
For my soul
a true delight
Anticipation rising
for the pianist
to arrive
Upon his stool
so comfortable
flexed fingers
and closed eyes
No music sheet
knows every note
and plays complete
Concerto
Looking up
A baton raised
Fingers are alive
I’m in another place
Transported to Utopia
Conductress
asks of violins
A gentle
calm refrain
Then cellos add
a depth of sound
music playing all around
Crescendo
takes on hidden depths
Pulls me in
My tears doth flow
Rachmaninoff
reaches deep
into my heart
into my soul
A magical spell
'tis played
upon
Exquisite
Grand Piano
Written 13th March 2022 after seeing the London Philharmonic Orchestra playing live...
Contest A BRIAN STRAND INFORMEL
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE
Contest Magical Spell
Sponsor Robert James Liquori
n/a
At the heart of our main living room
Shines the majestic pride of our beloved home
On carpeted tiles, stands a bride-like piano with a groom
Playing my favorite classic songs from the new album.
Its mellow sound lifts me up into the sky
Feeling floated on air, sweetly dreaming so high
Making me feel so in love which I couldn’t deny
Oh, harmonic grand piano, to you we completely rely.
Jan 24,2022 9.00pm
If I could take a walk and find
the Avenue of Joy
what would my fancy find there
as I strolled along
Perhaps I’d pass some puppies
just meandering about
their humans tending lovingly
to every little thing
And then of course, an Ice Cream shop
would surely not be far
with double dips of Chocolate
in sugar cone delight
A glance away are signs
that trumpet, Pizza, Candy, Nuts
though air of every appetite
would find me anyway
A grand piano consort seems to
softly ease my gait
and I cannot imagine
somewhere I would rather be
It’s then that I awake to gentle licks
from my own pup
with just a little heartburn
from the evening’s menu fare
I realize I’ve found much more
than I was looking for
the Avenue of Joy
that leads to nowhere else but home
Sub Categories
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