"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Monday, August 1, 2011

The Old Piano

The old piano
with its keys
the patina of rust
smiles with broken teeth.

The classical instrument
that stood on a concert stage,
now diminished to rubbish,
 sits in an alley,
a prop for drug deals.

Crack pipes and used needles
clutter its insides.
Once the pride of a musician
in polished grandeur,
it waits for its hearse, a garbage truck.

The beauty of the music
that once came from its strings
haunts the midnight shadows.
A heroin addict lies in
a euphoric stupor
wondering why
he is hearing Beethoven.

© Copyright Susie Clevenger 2011


Kerry O'Connor said...

For me, the first and last stanzas were the strongest in making an impression about this abandoned instrument: the broken-toothed smile, and the junkie wondering why he hears Beethoven.

Susie Clevenger said...

Thank you Kerry for your input...I must say I agree with you.

Mystic_Mom said...

The last stanza is so strong, almost too strong to be the closing words. The junkie hearing the ghosts of Beethoven just seemed to beg for more. Over all I liked it but the last stanza was my favorite part and had me wanting more of the same.

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