Writer’s Island asked for a poem about Triumph. Can’t think of anything more triumphant than a great gig with the right crowd and my voice in good shape…! Click on the link and check out the comments section to read other takes on the prompt! Amy

JAZZ AFIRE

Spotlight’s hot tonight
Fresh coffee on the side table
My fingers touch the cool ivories
and all hell breaks loose

Thumping the bass line
Reaching deep, drawing out
the raw fire of jazz within
Souls of legends aflame as I call to them:

Feed my soul, strike the match
Light a fire under my piano bench
til I burn with desire to shout it true
Til the keys melt at my touch

Hellzapoppin at this piano bar
Crowd heats up and calls for more
Coffee’s cold, neglected
but I’m a pyre of pure jazz afire

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil