Down Asheville’s Streets

Catch on quick, ride ‘till the stop, step off into the bustle, and

Hustle through the metropolis!

I look back and watch the bus wheels roll by, accustomed to the route, nothing new,

Memories of an elder’s adage inform my cool exterior…“Kid, realize the world will go on without you”

Conforming my foot-beats to the traffic’s pulse but minding thoughts elsewhere…

City sidewalks are comic strips of caricatures, characters, and the characterized:

Well-suited young men strut on airs as if theirs was the Land of the Sky, cautiously switching their briefcases to the other hand as they pass, raising eyebrows, their hidden disgusts sneering behind hints of scowls

At the counter-cultured hippie in beat up tie-dye tee, dog tags round his neck, and ripped jeans who chuckles beneath his white beard, “Just wait, life’ll knock the breath out of their pompous chests, have’em gaspin’ for breath.”

He’s laughing and nudging a friendly elbow alongside the invisible man blind to the cue, troubled by an introspection, visibly homeless in predicament,

Shaking his head, “They’ve never had to relive their death,

Every time a white man walks by, on high airs bloodied with shed breaths of people who look like me – black skinned, no grin, numb ginned, brown bag and bottled in as the littered ghosts of meritocracy that still haunt these streets…”

Hippie and hobo, brother to brother, meet teary eyes and shake hands in embrace of hearts coming to understanding – friends that keep learning from each other:

Downtown Asheville, vibrant of histories and drum circles of cultural mingling,

A saxophone serenades and flirts melodies with lovely ladies blowing kisses to the player that winks,

Oh Jazz, 1920s Harlem reminiscent, notorious for hypnotizing its listeners into unity, sends out hope for empathy among diversity in blue tones and honest love notes

And I love the open door policy of local shops that play music strictly from the Motown oldies, revolutionary rock of the 60s, 70s, The Temptations and the Grateful Dead

And the lyrics said are there to remind my generation from where we’ve come, to awaken our drums from going numb…

I caught on quick, rode ‘till the stop, stepped off into the bustle,

And stopped amidst the metropolis…

Now listen to the music, give attention to the street corner storytellers,

And yes, notice the sold self-glory sellers…

Call out the cry: Peace to Asheville!

May the Land of the Sky live on in its humble city dwellers.

Published by

Asha Gowan

I am an aspiring poet, novelist, musician, visual artist, and a die hard jazz enthusiast (partial to writing). I did not have a choice in the matter as both of my parents are creative to the core. Van Gogh beautifully painted the artist's portrait with his words: "The more I think about it, the more I realize there is nothing more artistic than to love others." I've made that ideal the primary catalyst for my work. Born as one of nature's esthetes, beauty is the goal of every song, every poem, every piece of art. Beauty that will touch the hearts and minds of others. I try to design my art to be healing and empathetic. I study and find intriguing people of all kinds, which informs a lot of my insights. I've drawn inspiration on the art of positivity, of spiritual uplifting from writers like Throeau, John Muir, Ohiyesa (Charles Eastman), the psalmist David, etc. Seeking a unique verve in my style, I make thorough investigations of all sorts of art and challenge myself to the hilt for the growth of my ingenuity. I am eager to share my musings with everyone here and wish to disseminate them. Thank you!