reset flow so good you'll want to read it slowly
hand crafted for you by the one and the only
renata hernandez a.k.a. number thirty-one
(she braids werdz into poetry just for fun)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

its been such a long day, am i ready for a long nite?
my body's beginning to fray and it feels wound and tite
but i think i can rebound for the night
cuz 26c knows how to put the sound
and vibe together right
i round up the homies and we take flight
to the orion and to my delight
there's no line at all, just the usual slight
gathering of promoters standing near the door
always handing out more and more
flyers to passerbyers by the score
we pass through security and enter: the first floor
where house pours through speakers, bass cabinets and onto the floor
leaving behind a muck that's crusty and unsure
a constant reminder of raves from before
i scrape it off my shoes as i walk upstairs
to check out the funky trance that blares
into people's faces it erases any traces of daily affairs,
which constantly ensnare me
and in the process impair me
magically, music repairs me,
mind, body and soul
once i start dancing i find i feel whole
but now it's time to go before the evil takes its toll
cuz if one more winged candy kid happens to stroll
by i fear i may pick them up and see if they can fly
they're getting on my nerves and i'm not sure why
i guess tonight my tolerance just isn't very high
so goodbye trance headz...hello drum n bass!

tonight the basement is the chosen place
for the jungle room, and what a great use of space
my eyes trace a set up that's very appealing
over my head cammo net hangs from the ceiling
the jungle is squealing from huge walls of speakers
causing mischief like midnight window peekers
the poppers and freakers get frantic like tweakers
trying to keep up with beats that bubble in thier ears like beakers
held over bunsen burners set at full blast
whether learners or those who have surpassed
vast amounts of battles, nobody stands at 1/2 mast
the jungle demands that everyone keep up with its fast
beats, or sit on the floor and get harassed
i join the cast of characters that make up this rave
in allowing the jungle to flow in and save
me from the fears that cause the tears that melt the brave
part of myself; i am jungle's slave
my body behaves all on its own
it disowns me as easily as a child who's outgrown
some beat up doll; patched up and re-sown

its like i've known how to do this dancing thing my whole life
each step i take chips away a little piece of strife
and as green lasers pierce the air around me like a knife
i smile because raving is the best life
as my body picks up timing and precision
i decide that the best decision
i ever made was enticing the collision
between myself and this scene
i don't mean to be obscene
but fuck anyone who can't handle this living dream
i hear the scream of the music inside my head
even as i crawl into my bed
and smile once again before sleep's grip spreads
i enjoy the places that my memory treads;
so many faces, so many fly threads
crazy hair like DBZ spikes and dreds
"so many different people", like 'no doubt' says
is what makes raves addictive, like LSD coated 'pez'

 

the following as well as the background are mike's shots
and these shots are by summer




and here is a shot of summer taken by mike