Soldier’s Piano
The dried, burned grass crunched under the weight of my combat boots. Every so often a bright green blade of grass would lick onto my shoe. No one has visited this place since the war. The land has been isolated for so long, since our shouts and blood filled the battlefield.
Flashes filled my mind as the memories of the war welled up in my head, creating a spinning pool of grief and survivor's guilt. I could not forget the faces of my companions crying out for help, hoping to be saved by someone, anyone.
The family we created within our platoon was being torn apart by our enemies. I fought hard, and relentlessly trying to keep the enemy back but still hoping to help save James, who was closest to me during our training and
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That wonderful Christmas we had as a proper family. At the time, I had been playing my beaten up wood piano which was taken from my grandmother's cottage after she passed. She had always sat me up on her lap before she had played one of her various songs she had written herself. That was where I acquired my love for composing. And that Christmas my mother and father had scraped up enough money to spend on a brand new, shiny, brown grand piano that sat in the living room. I spent most of the hours in each day at that piano. I had written three compositions in the first four weeks I spent sitting on the stool, crunched over the beautiful music …show more content…
As I was staring at my childhood memory, I realized my feet had begun to slowly move me forward towards the piano.
My slow, turtle-like trudges soon became a sprint and I was desperate to catch my childhood memory before it faded away. I approached the piano and halted my run abruptly. All I could do was stare at the beautiful, worn down wood that had once been polished to perfection. My fingers began to tingle and I raised one hand, shaking tremendously. I softly set it on the piano’s keys, almost scared to brush against it in fear it would disappear under my touch.
I lifted my other hand up to the piano and immediately, just as a reflex, and played one chord. The music was heavenly and I closed my eyes, raising my head to let the sun kiss my face. I lowered my head and thought of my fellow companions, the ones who had risked their lives for the wellbeing of America, just as I had so many years ago.
My arms still trembling, my fingers unsteadily began to play a few notes on the piano. Without a single gaze at what I was doing, my fingers began to fly across the keys of the grand piano. I kept thinking about all of the people who I had lost to the war, about James and what could have become of our duet. The pianist and the
Walking to New York From Boston was when I thought that we would never win the battle against the British. I couldn’t believe that I was going to go to war with the British. The British had so much more experience than we did, There were some people who didn’t even have one bit of experience with weapons. Surely, I was nervous of going to battle. The whole time getting ready I thought about how much I’d miss my wife and are three children Lilia, beathanny, and Lucas. I thought to myself one day I won’t have to write to them, I can see them and tell them stories about the war. Right now all I need to think about is battling the British and surviving at the same time. When going to battle being intrepid we were
Walking From Boston to New York I thought that we would never win the battle against the British. I couldn’t believe that I was going to go to war with the British. The British had so much more experience than we did, There were some people who didn’t even have one bit of experience with weapons. Surely, I was nervous about going to battle. The whole time getting ready I thought about how much I’d miss my wife and our three children Lilia, Bethany, and Lucas. I thought to myself one day I won’t have to write to them, I can see them and tell them stories about the war. Right now all I need to think about is battling the British and surviving at the same time. Therefore, When going to battle being intrepid we
Especially upon return, soldiers were constantly haunted by the terrors, the heartache, and the blood continuously engrained in their memories of war.
World War was often known as the war to end all wars. This was the nickname given to this conflict due to ferocity and enormous casualties. The damage done during the time period left a dent in society as it harmed millions psychologically, emotionally and physically. This dent resulted in a post-war era filled with numerous literary pieces expressing the toll of war on a person. A perfect example is the novel, All Quiet on the Western Front, and the poem, “Piano after War” where they convey philosophical ideas resulting from brutal conflict. Despite Remarque’s novel and Brook’s poem having similar themes, the authors differ in the way they reveal these themes.
The storm clouds were dark, gloomy and grim like a graveyard. They were near the surface of the earth. It was going to rain. They were lingering on. The soldiers’ uniforms were repeatedly buffeted by the howling gale. The sky was as black as a devil’s soul. A large boom echoed across the crimson battlefield as the lighting returned the thunder’s call. Endless calls for help could be heard. Then, the rain started pouring down, filling up the battle field, like a flood, as the constant sound of the rain pounding on the metal could be heard. Heavy boots pressed down on the wet mud, which would not be dry for the next week, due to the trenches. The trenches were six-foot-deep and reeked of dead bodies and human excrement.
They try to build a new life, but memories from the war are still strongly obvious to them. Through the feeling of embarrassment inside the soldier, O’Brien has depicted the post-war effects of the
sat down at a piano, having never studied, with little exposure to piano music in her lifetime,
Many people have come across a time in their life where any action or event from the past comes back to haunt them in their present life. This past event either affects their future actions in a negative or positive way. A play in which a character must contend with an aspect from the past is, The Piano Lesson by August Wilson. In August Wilson’s The Piano Lesson, Bernice Charles, struggles with embracing her family’s history of enslavement and oppression. She does this by deciding to keep the family’s heirloom, the piano, but yet denies its presence. She also decides to move up north from the south and away from her family’s history with her Uncle Doaker and daughter Maretha, again proving that she wants nothing to do with her past. Later on in the play, Bernice and her brother Boy Willie encounter Mr.Sutter 's ghost. Bernice decides to go against her idea of never touching the piano and plays it for the first time since the death of her parents. With the support of their ancestors they successfully fight back the ghost and Bernice realizes it 's a mistake to avoid or run away from her past. The actions taken by Bernice at the end of the play reveal that despite their past anyone is capable of embracing and moving on from their past in a way that will help them benefit their future actions positively.
August Wilson’s The Piano Lesson, tells a story of a family haunted by the pain of their past and their struggle to find peace to move forward. The story begins with character Boy Willie coming up from the south visiting his sister Bernice. Boy Willie introduces the idea of selling the family’s heirloom, a piano, to raise enough money to buy the land on which his ancestors were enslaved. However, both Boy Willie and his sister Berniece own half a half of the piano and she refuses to let Boy Willie sell it. Through the use of symbolism, Wilson uses his characters, the piano and the family’s situation to provide his intended audience with the lesson of exorcising our past in order to move forward in our lives. Our past will always be a
I sat and listened to the beautiful yet invigorating song being played on the piano. I reminisced about the future, when I would be able to play such a complex piece of music. Six years later I sat awaiting my turn to perform this piece of music I had so long dreamed about. I felt butterflies dancing in my stomach, but at the same time I felt a sense of peace and contentment. I played this song flawlessly and from that moment on, I knew that I wanted to use my knowledge and talent of playing the piano to change the world for the better. I desired to impact young, aspiring piano students just as the song that impacted my life so long ago. I long to do so by studying music in college and continue to teach piano.
The Army music field consists of great musicians. Although a great level of musicianship is required to enter the field, not all musicians are at the same level of musicianship. Their graduation of Advanced Individual Training (AIT) from the Army School of Music (ASOM) and assignment to a music unit (formerly known as the Army band) is the initiation of new Army musicians and their performance in a variety of events. These events consist of concerts, ceremonies, parades, and social events and each event dictate the music performed. In concerts or parades, musicians use sheet music to perform individual parts written as a collective whole. However, social events often require a small combo as an appropriate ensemble and the music tends to be a short melody line of a well-known jazz (or another popular music genre) standard
His hands moved mechanically; grab the button move the button, grab the button move the button. His arms ached from being held up moving back and forth. His stomach growled from pangs of hunger that afflicted the many orphans. His legs were ready to give out from standing all day long. His mind wandered in thought, thinking of all the things that he was missing out on. He thought of all the things that other kids would be doing, the swimming pools, water guns, and barbecues that he was not able to do because he had to work on making buttons.
Piano practice had always being my headache. I started playing the piano when I was 4. My mom always had trouble to let me sit down on the chair and focus on the music. I love music, but I also loved playing around as a little kid. I would procrastinate my assignments and only start to practice my song a week before the performance( the performance setup by professor to check students' progress every month) no matter what; and I regularly resulted myself in a awkward situation on the stage.
Thud. Slamming my head on the table I aimed yet another piece of crumpled paper towards the bin. Naturally, it misses, adding to the pile of miscellaneous paper waste. A pained sigh escaped my lips as I resigned myself to picking up my pen. Tapping some unknown rhythm on the desk, I tried to make sense of my thoughts. The bite marks on my pen lid pressed hard groves into my tired fingers, a simple reminder of reality. I needed some sort of inspiration. Another drawn out sigh as I decided that I couldn’t bare the table’s mahogany damnation any longer. My chair screeched along the hardwood floor and I clicked my pen to cast it away. A wistful glace to the window told me that the moon was yet to rear its head. It was still safe to go out.
I still remember my first piano lesson. The instructor was an amiable and patient lady. She enlightened me by playing the “Happy Birthday” song, which was my favorite song at that age. I kept watching her slender fingers dancing on the keys, and the sweet sound coming out of the piano reminded me of my fifth birthday. It was an amazing memory. Thinking that it could be used for celebrating my next birthday, I restrained myself from turning into one of Pavlov’s dogs, salivating all the way to my feet, and started learning the steps by heart.