Bebop

heads bobbing,

hands waving as if

fending the notes that are

trying to slap them on

the face.

them feet tapping,

fingers snapping,

the band playing for

themselves

oblivious of the audience.

the audience listening for

themselves

hanging on the fast

moving fingertips

of the musicians

who seemed to have

so many fingers.

to each his world,

his pleasures,

his pains.

grooving.

the applause seems

to be part of the music

and comingles nicely.

a jazz impro.
 

Reviews

[cest la vie]

What a great write. Had me forgetting for a minute I was at home and not in that dark, sultry blues club.

"them feet tapping,

fingers snapping,"
Great Verse!! Look forward to reading more of your work!
Lynne

[PianoandPage]

i love how you clip things down, the semantics and shortened words or slang helps create the energy of this jazzy picture you've painted.

i love musical poems. this one definately rocked.

"the band playing for
themselves
oblivious of the audience.
the audience listening for
themselves
hanging on the fast
moving fingertips" - this makes me remember those shows that get lost in the true artistry... performance that is in love with itself. this part of the poem really captured that essense of a magical night.

thanks for giving us all music.