In an attempt to tap into the vibe of Nashville for the first time, to find its distinctive current, you will find yourself reassured, and perfectly content. Boasting in your elated high you continue strolling, confidently, onto the next street wear you suddenly find yourself lost. Not lost, for the streets are simply drawn, but ill-tuned. Your legs flex to a stop, your head turns at that curious angle-slightly up and cocked to the left or right, depending on your quirk. Surprisingly, you have now found a completely different air to resonate to; a different scent, a different feeling and a different tune to dance to.
After a moment, when you have tapped 'that' distinct current and settled back into a harmonious calm; you may choose to continue walking into your impending path, gay and alert, until the next novelty shift in schemes. If you find yourself unsteady, I suggest abandoning your petty and square comfort zones and explore the living breathing city in-front of you, with unkempt senses.
If in fact, you are unable to fair Nashville's resonate dilation for a long period of time; you simply go back into the place you found yourself before, so content, and have another drink. Because the tune of Nashville will inevitably leave you time and time again. For that is the way it is hear. It is as divergent as the line drawn by the Cumberland, constantly mobile, uncertain and growing
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
seeing lies
Blood in flesh, and radiating heat,
That is my prison,
Breathing with chancy strides, i claim my stair,
Cuffs in tones, and canny deceit,
The smell of fiction,
Designing dew on your lips, fetid vapor in the air,
Truce of truths, and deft cartoons,
That is your way
Bartering eyes calling, your gallant tools
Lies of purchase, and inflated prunes
The tails of fray
What comes will come soon, me without fools
That is my prison,
Breathing with chancy strides, i claim my stair,
Cuffs in tones, and canny deceit,
The smell of fiction,
Designing dew on your lips, fetid vapor in the air,
Truce of truths, and deft cartoons,
That is your way
Bartering eyes calling, your gallant tools
Lies of purchase, and inflated prunes
The tails of fray
What comes will come soon, me without fools
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