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Hanna C S Jul 2019
If life is like a grand piano,
Make me up a melody
With keys both white and black;
Strike notes that play on heart strings,
With joyful rifts that send me souring,
And broken chords that pull me back.

And if life is like a grand piano,
I'll stand below and watch it sway;
Winched out a tenth story window;
The wire begins to thin and fray.

I want that grand piano of life
To answer gravity's beckoning call,
In all it's cartoon-dramatics;
Let it tip, then let it fall.

I want every high and every low;
I want moonlit passions
And morning coffees;
I want screaming matches
And baby scans;
I want passport stamps
And phone calls home;
I want celebrations
And hospital visits.
I want blood;
I want cuddles in the kitchen;
I want sweat;
I want kisses in the rain;
I want tears;
I want lighting strikes and sunrises;
I want scars, stories and tax returns;
I want lies, love and mortgages;
I want to be scared.
I want broken promises met with ''I'm sorry''s;
I want drunken phone-call serenades at 3am,
And slurred ''I love you''s I only half believe;
I want forehead kisses before driving to work;
I want heartbreak.
I want to say ''I love you'' and mean it.
I want to say ''I hate you'' and mean it.
I want to speak at my bestfriend's wedding and ***** it up;
I want to hold my sister's hand when she gives birth;
I want to watch my brother strum guitar on stage;
And then file for a messy divorce as my children finish school.
I want to grow old and wrinkle in whichever way this path has planned.

When I'm ready for it all,
I want life to be boringly brilliant,
And beautifully broken,
And painfully unplanned.
I want to live this life until I'm full and my bones crack.

So when that straining wire does snap -
Just let that grand piano fall;
I'll stand below and won't move a step,
Because in this life I want it all.
Mel Jul 2019
A piano normally has 88 keys.

52 white and 36 black.

Each make different sounds,

but work together to create a masterpiece.
One of my first non rhyming poems... ( ̄▽ ̄)
Ikigai Poet Jul 2019
What a dull day it is
Full of sorrow
There ain't no cold breeze  
Only more sadness to borrow.  
There is a sad symphony in the air
Which I just wanna play  
No matter what I think
The sky is just grey.  
And here I find teardrops on my Piano
Trying to play some unknown sonata.  

What has happened to me
Why can't I feel?
There's nothing to heal
Did I lose someone
Or did I find out my own feelings  
Dwelling inside my mind for so long.  

My hands aren't at work  
But my fingers are,
Playing some unknown sonata  
As my tears flow right from my cheeks.  

I feel numb and yet I continue to play
Is it enlightenment I'm trying to find
Or is it solitude,
Maybe I am blind  
My feelings must be crude.  
With each note I proceed
It defines just how I feel
Never ending sorrow  
It just keeps on going deep.  

I still try to find out  
Why am I so sad
And I find teardrops on my Piano
Trying to play some unknown sonata.
-Ikigai Poet
Ikigai Poet Jul 2019
As the moon rises
My memory becomes clearer
Standing right here at the dusk
My heart becomes my feelings' mirror.

As the time passes  
The youth in me begins to rebel  
As I approach the midnight  
My pulse rise as well.  

Midnight memories and the moon,
As my eyes shed tears
I sail across the sea of memory  
Walk across the dunes of sorrow
Endure the pain to which there's no recovery.

As I look into the infinite skies
I ask myself and the world within me
"Why do I exist in such a dreadful place?"  
As I look down towards the earth  
An answer bubbles up within me
"Because you have a purpose."  

As the moonlight touch my scars  
They begin to have a melody of melancholy  
A pain felt, a memory recalled and my heart cried...  
As the moon reaches it's peak,  
I realize and feel the very skin I'm wrapped with and the energy it holds.

As the night begins to descend  
I see a shadow of someone lost long ago
Yet strives to find a way back to the soul.

As the sun begins to rise
So does the hope within me
But the world will remain the same  
And so will my memories.
Experiences are something valuable
But nothing teaches me a lesson like  
Midnight memories and the moon.  

-Ikigai Poet
Kewayne Wadley Apr 2019
She taught me
The unexpected way people fall in love.
To hear a voice croon a name so beautiful.
That you forget all the incorrect keys
it takes to create a masterpiece.
The refuge of having a piano fall on your head
At the most unexpected time.
All of the keys playing in the most beautiful harmony.
The way you say my name in un-orchestrated chaos
Colm Apr 2019
Smashing ivory
Pounds like loving ***
But without the sudden sweet release
Instead
All there is left is ivory keys
Piano
Cynthia Apr 2019
Close your ears,
And in the midst of the woods,
You'll hear a soul,
As he plays his piano.

Surrounded by the mist,
By fireflies and the wind,
You'll hear a soul,
As he played his piano.

He'll read the keys,
Precisely as it said on the sheets,
Never missed a beat,
As he read from the seams,

But he felt empty,
As the notes were too,
So he closed his eyes,
And played some songs he never knew,

In the forest, his songs of gold,
went heard by many miles,
And soon full soon, they rushed to him,
The creatures of the night.


He sang of joy,
The feeling one would get,
When they missed a beat,
Uncaring of the whispers that they'll get,

He feels his heart breathing,
From all the eyes that he gets,
The creatures of the night,
They gathered round to see him vent.

But he wont care about them,
As they don't know about him,
So he sings his song of freedom,
And the binding of it,


He sings about the coldness of the Hearth,
He sings about the dead and their mirth,


He sings about the paradox,
Of happiness in love,
He sings about the promises,
When push comes to shove,

From twilight to dawn,
To the middle of the night,
He never stops singing,
Turning a moment to a while.

And when the stars came out,
To say 'hello' to him,
He smiled up at the heavens,
And graced a new start,

He looked around, the creatures,
They were hearing what he said,
So he sang about the beauty,
that one with ears would surely get.

When sunlight seeped in,
And the roses curled to sleep,
He closed his eyes,
Waiting for fate to drag him in,

As he laid his hand down,
On the very last key,
He looked up at the sun,
And told it, 'don't weep',

And when the creatures of the night,
Curled tight around him,
And dragged him away,
From his very first love,
He noticed the colours,
The back and white had made,
And couldn't help,
but let his heart,
make its very last smile.
Originally this was going to be a parody of Suga (from BTS)'s 'First Love' but I guess it's a poem now.
III Apr 2019
good piano music
lots of oatmeal

warm and good

eating lots of oatmeal
yum yum **** yea

oatmeal getting lower
bowl getting lighter

do you ever feel like a bowl of good oatmeal
running low on oatmeal

piano music dying
piano music sad

oatmeal almost gone now
reflect on good memories
of plentiful oatmeal

scraping for last pieces
music getting loud

ow it hurts my ear
**** where is all my oatmeal?
Vic Apr 2019
I could sit there forever, Only us two.
Just listening to you playing Bohemian Rhapsody on the piano and you shouting '****!' when you hit the wrong note.
A poem every day.
Luna Apr 2019
funny how one chord
can say so much
while i
can’t say anything
When I'm sad, mournful piano music soothes me. I wish I could play.
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