Art Tatum

Art Tatum

He played tunes,
Not with lyrics to sing to you,
Not to show preconceived moves,
Not for the game of fame,
He simply played the damn thing;
To swing with the jazz of life,
With uniquely spontanoues strides,
Stretching far and wide,
On 88 keys,
He sung and danced,
All of what being means.

Reviews

[Patricia]

this is wonderful, it could have been about me except it's not of course, I play, I sing, I write for me now. there is something very special about a pianist and their writing, it doesn't always need to be shared, sometimes it is personal, like a diary. I love this little write, well done!

[Mark Mendoza]

Yes it sure doesn't have to be shared. Playing to play is locking into a groove of truth beyond this world, to the place of timeless bliss. This to me seems like the true sharing, sharing yourself with what is. Thank you for reading :) glad you dig it.