Lament For Jazz
written by: Stanley W. Shura
A walk down the path
no simple thing do I undertake
to find my swing.
There lies a man
hungry and cold, with worker’s hands
grown crackled and old.
His passion the price
he paid for the rhythm that stole his time
yet still beats within him –
as he slaves for a master
who knows not his grace nor his pain
for “keeping his place”.
There but for chops
and God’s steady bass line go I
in pursuit of changes so fine.
Ringing and singing,
those old hands pursue a hopeless perfection
inside me and you.
He’s steady, but tired.
He’s keeping good time as he guides us
through the music sublime.
But the beat marches on,
and he does, too. Time to put down the pen.
This song is through.
I am a mid-forties retail worker and former paraprofessional of 16 years. I teach piano privately and have done so since my college days studying music.
Writing has been an outlet and a salvation of mine since childhood. Thanks to some supportive and encouraging teachers, particularly in high school, I gained confidence and discovered I had a lot to say and the means to say it.
Writing has been an outlet and a salvation of mine since childhood. Thanks to some supportive and encouraging teachers, particularly in high school, I gained confidence and discovered I had a lot to say and the means to say it.
Latest posts by Stanley W. Shura (see all)
- Consumed - May 8, 2019
- Lament For Jazz - March 29, 2019
- Dawn - February 25, 2019
