Quotes about pianist
Edge to Edge (Post post modern poetry)
When I slept in the afternoon after going through the ordeal of riding a cab in the heat only my Donna Karan glasses less by one degree in darkness and covering all my eyes protected me from fainting I wore my shirt which was stinking from sweat when I threw myself on the bed escaping the eyes of the old widow in the other room the fan went off I concentrated to sleep even without and I did after intense fantasies remembering the movie “The Pianist” I had watched the last night and the inspired soldier who let the soul of the pianist survive and himself landed in the war prison camp because he wanted to contact that other foolish violinist who instead spat on him being German and he could not be saved by the pianist as the pianist did not know his name because when the German soldier was getting inspired by the music in ruins he forgot telling him his name we are all victims of romance the German soldier could have made a bargain the pianist was too hungry to know about him and terrified for what he had seen when I woke up I got hold of my guitar similarly inspired as the German soldier was I entered into a black shirt on whose collar is written ‘edge to edge’ with an emblem of an animal having one long horn I went to drink coffee before I took a bath when I picked my phone to make a call one dear number of mine with me since a decade I found that it was stolen by someone my dreams shattered suddenly in the wake of reality of the number from the pianist now I was in deep trouble I came out my appetite was no more I entered a bakery to buy myself a burger that was wrapped in polythene there was no place to sit the burger was put in oven some of the polythene melted into the sauce my fingers burned to open the ketchup sachet I came into the dark corner a dog was sleeping I preferred sharing my burger with a cat on small concrete steps the cat could not take diet coke pieces of chicken slipped down and she was eating I rubbed my hands on my shorts and thanked the cat for she was my friend on dinner
8/8/2009
PS: These are real events narration in what I call 'post post modern poetry' writing straight what you feel without giving it a form or even punctuation
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Obsession
Obsession
The pianist Albert has got a job in Loulé last time
I saw him in Faro and fell over a pollard, he said
he was not my father. When he spotted me he ran
into a café, they let him run through the kitchen
into the back, a dead end; I waited for him there.
“If you don´t stop following me I will have to call
the police, I´M NOT YOUR FATHER.” To mollify
him I said: “ I know you are not, but I do admire
your piano playing. ”This pleased him and we had
a drink and he told me he came from Yugoslavia,
had wanted to be a concert pianist, but there was
no money, so he ended up as a café pianist… just
as my father I thought but said nothing… then he
had to leave for work, saw him walk out of my life
just as my father did, there was nothing I could do
to stop this man who refused to be my dad.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Unheard Elegy of a Widow Pianist
In a quadrille of his flimsy fingers
He lambently imposed tranquility
In between the brunt of his calloused soldiers
That the phalanges strangulated in a knot
And trudged and snapped and broke
With the heart of the widow pianist
Whistling his vapid tune from weaker towers
With the streets teeming of faceless strangers
He played the elude of his phantasmagoria
And groveled with a bleeding sonata
With shambling notes of empty words
That singed brusquely in a queue
Among their empty swollen ears
The schmaltz plea died with the violins
He sedated himself with the picture
Of familiar peoples crammed in a rotogravure
And the melancholy disembogued of verve
When the pictures pranced with deluded scherzos
[...] Read more
poem by Norman Santos
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I was much more interested in the orchestra than the piano, but I did become fairly proficient as a pianist and my teachers felt I had talent and wanted me to become a good concert pianist and earn my living that way.
quote by Alan Hovhaness
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ivory Keys
A pianist sat on his stool
The throng had hushed away
And when the violin had strummed
His fingers hovered in the air
And then began to play
A thousand pairs of eyelids
Bowed and fell into a trance
And ivory still echoing
The audience dozed gracefully
As thoughts broke into dance
The ecstasy on faces grew
To vivid, joyous smiles
And as the keys sped quicker now
The pianist grew fiercer
As he swiftly hit white tiles
The waterfall, as did his pace,
Transitioned to a brook
[...] Read more
poem by Sasha Ioffine
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The Pianist
A young perplexing boy who found comfort in staying out of sight,
Had a behaviour that made him the target of cruelty and smite,
One day by chance he came upon a piano and came alight,
And quite soon gained respect since his music was able to excite,
Yet was not happy for he wanted to gain finesse overnight,
He would practice relentlessly, studying and playing hourly,
With time he gained the mastery, which he had lusted for dearly,
He would sleep his nights restlessly, without fail waking eagerly,
Since he was obsessed about playing his instrument flawlessly,
He came to be annoyed at how his playing was not always tight,
Maintaining the concentration required took all of his might,
He removed all his possessions in and around his line of sight,
Still it was not enough and so he removed everything outright,
Yet was not happy as his playing still had a margin of blight,
He removed light and played blindly, as a result played perfectly,
In time he eventually lost his grip on reality,
Numerous birds curiously came and formed an assembly,
One bird liked the music dearly and called on the king frequently,
The bird sang a melody, which the king found to be a delight,
The king complemented the bird and came to learn of its ghostwrite.
[...] Read more
poem by Christian Lacdael
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I'm not really a pianist.
quote by Harold Budd
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I started off as a studio pianist in Hollywood.
quote by Skitch Henderson
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My mother wanted me to be a concert pianist.
quote by Bernie Worrell
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To search for a pianist, it is very difficult; sometimes you find one.
quote by Victoria de los Angeles
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