Piano exam 2012 ~~~~~~~~~~~ Imagine your piano teacher informs you of the exact date you are to have your piano exam. Does your heart become stricken with dread as you foresee the enormous amount of practicing you will have to undergo? And do you dread just thinking about how much stress, anxiousness, and nervousness you will have as you play for a judge, who is a stranger, and will grade you as you play? If you don’t dread merely thinking of the aforesaid scenario, then you are deservedly entitled by me, a “Daniel” or an “Esther”.

~Here ya go. It's incomplete, unpolished, and probably confusing, but here ya go. Based on a dream I had a while back. See the movie Rigoletto for something similar but better. :)~

It knows where to guide your fingers
when you play without the notes
it draws them toward the keys
and they sound the way you feel
I think it's true it knows.

How quietly it crouches there
makes me think it is a tame bear
but I know it's wild creature,
even though it sings for me.
Its voice is full, and deep, and true
and unfamiliar to few
and even if you know it not
it comes to brush against your heart
And I wonder what it thinks about
when everyone is alseep.

A gentle touch
A flowing hand
Upon the keys
Upon the Grand.

The notes printed
On paper so fine
Giving the song
In touching the line.

The white and black keys
Glittering so bright
The touch of smooth fingering
The music pages light.

Time ticks by
Passing five, six, seven
Practice time is almost over
Lessons at eleven.

Rushing through my Repertoire
Jogging through my scales
NYSSMA is in a week
I’m praying I don’t fail!

The Piano: Love is the ivory; the white and brown bells, the chiming. There is something so personal and quiet, but also outgoing. The piano is you, your moods and feelings. One can just look upon a Grand and say to themselves “Oh! It is a handsome piece of fittings, is it not?” But it is not a piece of furniture, however much a Steinway Grand may brighten up a Palace. Others may look upon a Grand and say to themselves “Oh! How I ache to play it and how I long to feel those keys.

Keys press down,
Keys let up.
You hear the music,
But I do not.

I see the keys
And the beautiful motion,
Made by your fingers
On the pure white keys.

I have an advantage:
I create my own music.
I don't hear yours
Inside my head.

I see you playing,
But I am not listening.
I am creating my own
Silent song in my head.