Lament For Jazz, a poem written by Stanley W. Shura at

Lament For Jazz

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.

Latest posts by Stanley W. Shura (see all)