She folded her paper program into a makeshift accordion fan. It wasn’t at all proper for such a formal affair, but they really shouldn’t have held such a formal affair outside in the summer heat.
She took a roll of paper and began folding. She would crease on side perfectly and flip it back to create yet another fold. She had no intentions for this accordion-like paper, but she lost herself in the repetition.
A wonderful contraption all folds and buttons and magic. I imagined myself learning some day when I was a child and growing up to become one of those sweet smiling park performers.. Perhaps another thing on that ever growing bucket list which is doomed to go I uncompleted but sure makes a good talking point.
A wonderful contraption all folds and buttons and magic. I imagined myself learning some day when I was a child and growing up to become one of those sweet smiling park performers.. Perhaps another think on that ever growing bucket list which is doomed to go I completed but sure makes a good talking point.
an accordion was strapped to the back of a man walking down the street. Jessie stopped and stared at him. He thought about how strange the sight was, but saw a fascinating beauty in it. There are things in the world that we don’t understand. There are still mysteries. The problems will come when humans can know everything.
My childhood fear. Seriously.
I had an uncle who always played an accordion at dinners and parties but I never liked the sound of it. It’s like a mixture of cries, woes and dysfunctions.
I understand that this box-liked instrument is famous mainly in Europe and I respect it.
But the sound bothers me.
alyssa rae
The accordion sandwich sat on the checker clothed picnic table. It dripped with honey mustard, turkey spilling out for flies to feast on. The accordion sandwich never got eaten.
expandable attraction breathing in and out
music and dust
live carnies circus freaks
according to me to who?
friendly lion
Lisa
Her arms pumped in and out as the accordion bag inflated and deflated. The notes she created were bright and festive. Almost cheeky, like a confident girl dancing without a care.
Peter
It wasn’t Jonina’s idea. I wanted something for her. I wanted to give her something, you know, a symbol of our love on the twenty-first anniversary of our marriage. An accordion, I thought, would be exactly what she needed. It wasn’t.
emily
What was his name? Arthur Walsh. His belt was fixed with an accordion belt-thingy. I had called the number listed on the ad at Haverhill Music Centre for directions and drove there that day.
Roxanne
I already wrote about an accordian. I thought this would be more of a word gnerator and not a daily fixated assignment. I don’t know what I think about this at all. I don’t think it’s too impressive
I never really learned how to play my accordion. It just ended up sitting on the shelf, only even being used once or twice in a year, when a friend would spot it and pick it up. It was a present from someone, long forgotten. a tired little toy, who never got played.
A musical instrument- I assume, my knowledge in this area is very limited. An instrument with little people with the ability to play well, but one that reminds me of old jigs and dancing.
Kas Stephenson
that one instrument where you can just hit any key on the side, squeeze it as hard as you want, do anything and you will still make a beautiful noise.
wally
We expand and contract
Fight and surrender
We come and go
As we please
We understand the bond and
how the music should sound
We are instruments of
Our love making
Marci plays accordion and so does Kirsten. Then there’s Ted who plays for a local zydeco band. They’re pretty good. I never gave much credibility to the accordion, but now that my friends play that instrument, I like it now.
Al recibir la palabra Acordión como inicio de mi escritura, solo puedo pensar en el Tango, y al mismo tiempo en Piazzolla. La magia que guarda el instrumento es el espiritu de la música que produce.
Patricio
you squeeze in and out and
gasp–
don’t let go, it’s hard to erase
the past, erase(her)
NOTHING
— breathing hard, still,
harder fasterstrongerican’t
leave it darling,
leave your emotions
at
the
door
The accordion player kept playing seemingly oblivious to the hush that had fallen over the festivities. No one said a word as the sentence, “But I don’t know that I ever loved you.” Reverberated throughout the room.
The faint sound of an accordion played in the background, but as I closed my eyes, it became louder and louder. From a whisper to a hum. To a scream. When I opened my eyes everything stopped.
White and black keys, ivory of course, adorned the musical instrument that Hugo had his eyes on.
He stared at it longingly, mother would surely allow him the privilege, father though, he was not sure.
Father was not a fan of muggle devices, despite the fact that he himself is married to a muggleborn, solely to the fact that his own father was a great fan of them and spent much of his time and energy on muggle automatons.
He exhaled.
Soon, he told himself, soon he would show his father the beauty of music, and the thought consoled him.
He breathed, in and out, in and out. His breath became shallow. Not much air left. “Please,” she cried softly. “Do not leave me here alone. There is no life worth living without you.”
Accordian music is surprisingly popular into today’s music. Not in the sense of it being popular with brain dead Americans, but many spanish music stations constantly have an accordian player on the air as part of the band, I messed up and meant to write about tv.
donaldo
Squeezysqueeze, bend your knees.
Press the keys and make it all a breeze.
toward the back, you seem them cringe, your skills much too awesome
Mastery of music and tuning about town
On the steets of Paris I run,
Searching for the music that teases
My ears from drifts of wind
And a passerby’s whistling.
I can see him in my mind;
A man dressed in clothes
Once elegant now worm by time,
His fingers dancing along the keys,
And a smile in his eyes.
She played the accordion with abandonment, lost in her thoughts, the pleasure visible on her face as the music flowed through the air and sang a beautiful melody.
He plays the accordion? The other had never noticed, but now as he did, he watched diligently. Pale fingers stroked the keys, strong arms moved gracefully, in and out in and out, the rhythm made him want to sleep. The noise did not. How could such a loud instrument suddenly be so attractive?
Naomi
This is in old cartoons and they always looked so geeky to play. I always secretly wished that I learned how to play one because it looks like it took some skill….and it sounded like an old ragtime song everytime someone played it.
Sam
It didn’t sound as awful as the word sounded. I sat and listened to grandfather as he pumped and pulled his accordion. I never knew that music could be so beautiful or have so much meaning. It was shrill. Whiny, like my brother. But beautiful. Like my grandfather.
Carrie
In and out, makes the air blow. Through the pipes, tingling with music; vibrating with life. As if this street corner needed another pumping, dancing man, pushing out meter and order onto and otherwise beautiful and chaotic wooshing of the wind.
She folded her paper program into a makeshift accordion fan. It wasn’t at all proper for such a formal affair, but they really shouldn’t have held such a formal affair outside in the summer heat.
She took a roll of paper and began folding. She would crease on side perfectly and flip it back to create yet another fold. She had no intentions for this accordion-like paper, but she lost herself in the repetition.
A wonderful contraption all folds and buttons and magic. I imagined myself learning some day when I was a child and growing up to become one of those sweet smiling park performers.. Perhaps another thing on that ever growing bucket list which is doomed to go I uncompleted but sure makes a good talking point.
A wonderful contraption all folds and buttons and magic. I imagined myself learning some day when I was a child and growing up to become one of those sweet smiling park performers.. Perhaps another think on that ever growing bucket list which is doomed to go I completed but sure makes a good talking point.
an accordion was strapped to the back of a man walking down the street. Jessie stopped and stared at him. He thought about how strange the sight was, but saw a fascinating beauty in it. There are things in the world that we don’t understand. There are still mysteries. The problems will come when humans can know everything.
My childhood fear. Seriously.
I had an uncle who always played an accordion at dinners and parties but I never liked the sound of it. It’s like a mixture of cries, woes and dysfunctions.
I understand that this box-liked instrument is famous mainly in Europe and I respect it.
But the sound bothers me.
The accordion sandwich sat on the checker clothed picnic table. It dripped with honey mustard, turkey spilling out for flies to feast on. The accordion sandwich never got eaten.
This expanding file folder reminds me of an accordion. Only my notes are scribblings of ever-evolving to-do-lists, interview materials, and invoices.
Time to go get lost in a good book.
The German came around with his accordion . I wish he wouldn’t, but there was something about this that soothed my mother.
“I used to play this when I was a little girl,” she said softly. Her eyes teared up.
“What the tune?”
“No, the accordion. When your great grandfather died, I swore I would never play it again. And I haven’t.”
The last one on the mantle. Grandpa’s old accordion. His beloved. He could never part with it.
“What should we do?” I wondered as I stared at it, now coated with dust as it had not been played in years.
“Bury it.” Brother said. “Bury it with grandpa. He loves it, and thus shall it stay with him even in death.”
I accordion fold my heart and put it in my pocket. You can’t see it. You can’t touch it. Out of sight out of mind, right?
expandable attraction breathing in and out
music and dust
live carnies circus freaks
according to me to who?
friendly lion
Her arms pumped in and out as the accordion bag inflated and deflated. The notes she created were bright and festive. Almost cheeky, like a confident girl dancing without a care.
It wasn’t Jonina’s idea. I wanted something for her. I wanted to give her something, you know, a symbol of our love on the twenty-first anniversary of our marriage. An accordion, I thought, would be exactly what she needed. It wasn’t.
What was his name? Arthur Walsh. His belt was fixed with an accordion belt-thingy. I had called the number listed on the ad at Haverhill Music Centre for directions and drove there that day.
I already wrote about an accordian. I thought this would be more of a word gnerator and not a daily fixated assignment. I don’t know what I think about this at all. I don’t think it’s too impressive
I never really learned how to play my accordion. It just ended up sitting on the shelf, only even being used once or twice in a year, when a friend would spot it and pick it up. It was a present from someone, long forgotten. a tired little toy, who never got played.
A musical instrument- I assume, my knowledge in this area is very limited. An instrument with little people with the ability to play well, but one that reminds me of old jigs and dancing.
that one instrument where you can just hit any key on the side, squeeze it as hard as you want, do anything and you will still make a beautiful noise.
We expand and contract
Fight and surrender
We come and go
As we please
We understand the bond and
how the music should sound
We are instruments of
Our love making
i never played the accordion but is seems like something interesting to learn i would be fun to make music with such a silly looking instrument
Marci plays accordion and so does Kirsten. Then there’s Ted who plays for a local zydeco band. They’re pretty good. I never gave much credibility to the accordion, but now that my friends play that instrument, I like it now.
Al recibir la palabra Acordión como inicio de mi escritura, solo puedo pensar en el Tango, y al mismo tiempo en Piazzolla. La magia que guarda el instrumento es el espiritu de la música que produce.
you squeeze in and out and
gasp–
don’t let go, it’s hard to erase
the past, erase(her)
NOTHING
— breathing hard, still,
harder fasterstrongerican’t
leave it darling,
leave your emotions
at
the
door
My friend plays the accordion. He’s a pretty cool dude. I met him through marching band. He’s like my big cuddly teddy bear! Oh Tony.
According to the accordion, accolades are gordian.
The accordion player kept playing seemingly oblivious to the hush that had fallen over the festivities. No one said a word as the sentence, “But I don’t know that I ever loved you.” Reverberated throughout the room.
The faint sound of an accordion played in the background, but as I closed my eyes, it became louder and louder. From a whisper to a hum. To a scream. When I opened my eyes everything stopped.
White and black keys, ivory of course, adorned the musical instrument that Hugo had his eyes on.
He stared at it longingly, mother would surely allow him the privilege, father though, he was not sure.
Father was not a fan of muggle devices, despite the fact that he himself is married to a muggleborn, solely to the fact that his own father was a great fan of them and spent much of his time and energy on muggle automatons.
He exhaled.
Soon, he told himself, soon he would show his father the beauty of music, and the thought consoled him.
He breathed, in and out, in and out. His breath became shallow. Not much air left. “Please,” she cried softly. “Do not leave me here alone. There is no life worth living without you.”
Accordian music is surprisingly popular into today’s music. Not in the sense of it being popular with brain dead Americans, but many spanish music stations constantly have an accordian player on the air as part of the band, I messed up and meant to write about tv.
Squeezysqueeze, bend your knees.
Press the keys and make it all a breeze.
toward the back, you seem them cringe, your skills much too awesome
Mastery of music and tuning about town
On the steets of Paris I run,
Searching for the music that teases
My ears from drifts of wind
And a passerby’s whistling.
I can see him in my mind;
A man dressed in clothes
Once elegant now worm by time,
His fingers dancing along the keys,
And a smile in his eyes.
She played the accordion with abandonment, lost in her thoughts, the pleasure visible on her face as the music flowed through the air and sang a beautiful melody.
He plays the accordion? The other had never noticed, but now as he did, he watched diligently. Pale fingers stroked the keys, strong arms moved gracefully, in and out in and out, the rhythm made him want to sleep. The noise did not. How could such a loud instrument suddenly be so attractive?
This is in old cartoons and they always looked so geeky to play. I always secretly wished that I learned how to play one because it looks like it took some skill….and it sounded like an old ragtime song everytime someone played it.
It didn’t sound as awful as the word sounded. I sat and listened to grandfather as he pumped and pulled his accordion. I never knew that music could be so beautiful or have so much meaning. It was shrill. Whiny, like my brother. But beautiful. Like my grandfather.
In and out, makes the air blow. Through the pipes, tingling with music; vibrating with life. As if this street corner needed another pumping, dancing man, pushing out meter and order onto and otherwise beautiful and chaotic wooshing of the wind.
A man once ate an accordion and made weird noises for the rest of his life then he choked and died, because he ate an accordion.
An instrument that is very hard to master. Often used in old folk bands. Can be used in selected genres of music. Half keyboard, turned sideways.