>>>>IN A WORLD OF DIAMONDS I RESIDE

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

A Musical Situation. By Troy Plemmons.



A musical Situation.
As was journaled before, the Hi-Ho lounge on St. Claude does an open bluegrass jam every Monday. Tonight I showed up after Melanie Curran but it is better late than never. The first few songs nervously came out of my guitar (C,G,D)(E,A,E,E-,E,A) most of the ballads were either of Heaven, Stealin’ Women, death of loved ones, losing loved ones. Once the capos came out I had to watch the one man who played without one just to make sure I played the right notes. All of this is still very new for me. Feel it in your bones, under skin the words, the heartbreak, the rules of subtle unspoken understandings, the judgment barriers to break down shields to put up for protection. ALL music comprehension showing patience listening letting follow break through break out. Who gave a winkie dink look, fast times quicker than coffee. The rules I understand tell me to sing loud, from the heart eyes open and adjusting to the vibrational changes. This is a moment, a passing emotional sound. Go beyond the immediate smile the discomfort of leaving a known tune in a space of thought, fill the space with what is sought. Listen to your neighbors when they look at you in time it will make us cry, in time it makes us shine. Singing loud like our ancestors did who moved through this place curious as kids. There may be a gift in sight that will be gifted upon taking flight. To carry in the soul the will to be violent goes untold this is a sign that grieves like the surrendering of violet. To go sleeping with the horrid Whores is to give up to a life of chores, but if you have seen the night of a sneaky witch lit brothel it will grant you the duty of living for the cocktail. Now the squared up masters of the baby boom disaster placed me in the light of loose knits and laughter. Now I walk along the line of electric creation & corruption with a mind that’s pulsing with the hot lava of eruption. Inside this heart there is an explanation for this. A reason why I act complacent and resist. The mongers of disastrous beliefs who call UN tucked shirts the tails of loose risk perpetuate it. The only place that I know this to exist is above the ocean of salt in the sandy cliffs. I understand this underestimated risk of enlightened bliss. Don’t put me on trial I aint said a thing; just give me a fair warning before trying a funky thing. Its also believed that we must leave room to breathe, that way we can learn before our neighbors must leave. I don’t mind playing music with the short hairs, they just can’t mind playing music with me.

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