Keys

I’m sidetracked as I pack into boxes
my keys call and I play Claire de Lune
with heartfelt intensity
the for rent sign and ads will go out soon
as I prepare to move away
and still I play
I move from Debussy to Bach and return
seeking new ways to find beauty
I’ll have a grand piano after this
and play for hours, this aging punk rocker
with his love of music in all its forms
I am bewitched by the elegant emotion
a yearning so profound it could make a man weep
in the touch of my fingers on the keys
It will never be what I perform
to half or full drunk audiences in bars and arenas
but it sits in my soul like the face of god
but maybe one day a ghost will hear
as my fingers dance the bergamasque
I’m playing the black keys in my mind

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s