Piano Man

silent boy,

sitting at a desk . . .

never seeming to notice the world around.

       almost stupid silent.

never making a foolish remark . . .

        nor an intelligent one.

        who are you?

 

magic man.

sitting on a stool . . .

never seeming to notice the world around.

       music magic silent.

rapture from a piano . . .

        heaven in your hands.

        who are you?

Reviews

[Rory CJ Frankson]

The idiot savant, stare. Through a window bare. All thought not a pinch of awareness, be there. All that is seen on the wind, are the notes it plays. The rythme, of the rain. The mocking birds, that flutter the keys through the wings of his heart. That bleeds, with words that could never explain. The horror that is between an inpenetrable life of function, and the delicious textures... a piano brings.
A brief reprieve. Release.
From his prison.
He waits...