To Glenn GouldThe same way the pianist plays the keys
Is the same way I put words on the page:
Carefully. So as not to disturb them,
The words, ‘cause if not they might run away,
And leave me bleeding on the page, the same,
As a pianist bleeding on the keys.
For red on black and white looks quite ugly.
Black and white- ink on paper, like the keys!
Perhaps I am a pianist too. Here,
I sit, like him, my desk the instrument,
My pen the chords, and words, sweet melody.
I move my fingers to the beat- Beauty,
The grand symphony I wish to write! Quite
Elusive she is to paint, and with words!
I cannot charm her with tunes, pianist,
Like you do. I guess we’re not similar
Beyond the color scheme. You have glamor.
While I have quiet space, you have quite the stage;
While I have silence you have melody,
And that’s quite the difference, won’t you agree?
Fanciful mid-day dreams must end, sadly,
This is what I get for grabbing genius
Out of thin air and wearing it like a
Dress. And you play on pianist. I guess,
I must play on too, and write, so some day,
I shall be wearing the same suit you do.
Poetry by Sameen
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Written on 2017-12-11 at 00:58
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