Bebop

Bebop

A Poem by A.T.B.

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.
 

© 2008 A.T.B.


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Reviews

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



Posted 11 Years Ago


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.



Posted 12 Years Ago



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452 Views
2 Reviews
Added on July 10, 2008
Last Updated on July 11, 2008

Author

A.T.B.
A.T.B.

http://cabalamuse.wordpress.com



About
I am neither fish, fowl, nor good red herring (from ASK THE DUST by John Fante.) I'm the author of writings that are yet to be understood. Soon, the world will catch on. more..

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