Spring 2006 SLAM! - Congrats to the winners - see you all next time! |
A Prose Poem. Prague by Rooster Roo The lights of the Old Town Bridge Tower Reflects off the black restless river water as white swans swim under the dark granite stone arches; posed on grand block footings, witch cuts the current like the bow of a ship: dramatic it is to compare the swans to the pure white lotus flower pedals floating by, encompassing the status of gentle tidings to the arts given up for splendour. A Chamber Orchestra produces a trim, carefully balanced sound, and in Beethoven's earns it shaped phrases with an appealing elasticity that gives the impression that the players subsist as butterflies upon the strings while they slide their bows in such a graceful stroke that God‘s Angels danced upon the air like child full of the milk of glee. Baroque skyline dominated by the gothic steeples of St Vitus Cathedral, cobblestone streets full of the aroma of herbs, spices, seeds, nuts, fruit, honey, mustard and even chocolate. Stone churches that hearken back to the 13th century, lion relieves call to visitors telling them of grand adventures of royal processions. No one walks rather waltzes as they follow the hordes, the grooves worming into the cobblestones streets from Prague Castle and St. Vitus' Cathedral across the Charles Bridge to the Old Town Square. The gardens in small places, filled with vines and flowers, it is like Eden. The clink of glasses and the sound of voices engaged in boisterous conversation, advertising the joys available inside better than any neon sign. Gone are the workers in overalls, slaking their thirst after a shift with a few well-earned beers. And yes one has to assert that this particular cultural exchange should be taken very seriously indeed. Wake up to the warm, complex aroma of a fresh-baked bread wafting through this golden, hundred-spire, stone dream city like the fragrance of a pleasant blossom upon the crown of the world. Climb the narrow staircase and look at the grand city of crafted with skill: Gothic spires, stone bridges, and cobbled alleys invite one to travel back in time. |