A poem I read at an open Mic last night dedicated to the NYC dance scene. The day is over, hello moonshine... Our work is done it is now HANGTIME We feel the FUNKBOX vibrations as the base pounds through the chest, A SOULGASM takes over our bodies, communing us... blessed... Temperatures increase as we feel the RELEASE taking us higher than ever before, embracing the gravity, touching the floor A familiar face, a DEJAVU, the smell of incense traveling through the smell of sweat, and foggy smoke, I breath you in a friendly toke.. Caught up in the way you move, ahead of the beat, but BEHIND THE GROOVE comunication is our dance in this HOUSE CONFERENCE sacred ground is our destination, purging our ego through slippery LIBATION. Powder protects the floor from the scuffs of boots as live conga players take us back to our ROOTS... We feel as though were drunk as we JUMP & FUNK, in this world of sound underneath beneath the ground. To loose all consciousness, experience trance, perhaps the world would be at peace if our leaders would just dance. Redness Kim Hayes Brian Cox Tony Hernandez Voodoo Ray Danny Castro Rich Medina Tommy Bones Brian Polite Ejoe Wilson Disciple Nyc
Posted on: Tue, 18 Nov 2014 02:57:10 +0000
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