I trim my nails in preparation,
run through drills,
up and down, major and minor,
leaping through arpeggios,
training my ten soldiers
to wrestle with Bach,
get Chopin in a chokehold.
Bombarding Beethoven isn’t easy;
neither is lunging at Liszt.
Bartók withstands all my blows
and I run retreat from Rachmaninoff.
Mozart rolls over,
tongue lolling, lets me pet his belly,
before he bites my hand.
I throw javelins at Joplin;
he thinks they are a joke.
Nevertheless, shields up,
I battle on.
A few days ago I read James G Brennan’s poem Keyboard Warrior in Paper Poetry
I loved the poem, and the title (one that gets thrown around a lot in my house) stuck with me.
A few months ago I returned to my passion for playing the piano, and yesterday this poem popped out. James, I hope you don’t mind my using your title! Thank you for the inspiration! Readers, thank you for taking a look at my words. Please take a look at the linked poem above, too!