¿quien éramos?

¿quien éramos?

ya, ya, ya paso,
y éramos, éramos…
¿éramos quien?
¿éramos quien?
¿quien éramos?

quiero sentirme
dueño de mi destino.
quiero sentirme
libre pa’ poder soñar,
pa’ poder escribir,
dibujar, y escapar.

yo quiero crear el mapa
por cual voy a viajar.
quiero que mi camino
se presente al caminar,
y que todas las estrellas
me iluminen al andar.

quiero ser mas que esclavo-
simple obrero o trabajador,
y no es por miedo al trabajo,
si no el miedo a perder.
¿quién soy yo? ¿quién soy yo?
soy un niño que perdió sus alas,
y ya no voló, y ya no voló.

ya, ya, ya paso,
y éramos, éramos…
¿éramos quien?
¿éramos quien?
¿quien éramos?

vámonos por allí
para ver lo que hay,
y que nos encontramos.
¿qué nos encontramos?
porque toda la vida
teníamos pensado
pasárnosla de vagos
por allá en puerto escondido
con unos italianos que nos encontramos,
tomándonos unos mojitos,
y hablando de filosofía
o política izquierdista.

quiero sentirme
dueño de mi destino.
quiero sentirme
libre pa’ poder soñar,
pa’ poder escribir,
pintar, hacer música,
bailar y dibujar,
pensar y diseñar
un nuevo mundo
y escapar, y escapar,
y escapar, y escapar.

ya, ya paso,
y éramos, éramos…
¿éramos quien?
¿éramos quien?
¿quien éramos?

09.27.13.

English Translation
(06.30.2015)

who were we?

there, there, there it passed,
and we were, we were…
we were who?
we were who?
who were we?

i want to feel
master of my fate.
i want to feel
free to dream,
be able to write,
draw, and escape.

i want to create the map
by which i will travel.
i want my path
to arise while walking,
and that all stars
illuminate my wandering.

i want to be more than slave-
simply a worker or laborer,
and it’s not from fear of work,
but the fear of losing.
who i am? who i am?
i’m a boy who lost his wings,
and no longer flew, and no longer flew.

there, there, there it passed,
and we were, we were…
we were who?
we were who?
who were we?

let’s go by there
to see what’s there,
and what we can find.
what do we find?
because our whole life
we’d planned
to live as vagabonds
over there in puerto escondido
with some italians we’d found,
drinking a few mojitos,
and talking about philosophy
or leftist politics.

i want to feel
master of my fate.
i want to feel
free to dream,
be able to write,
paint, make music,
dance and draw,
think and design
a new world
and escape, and escape,
and escape, and escape.

there, there, there it passed,
and we were, we were…
we were who?
we were who?
who were we?

don’t want to be a rapper.

don’t wanna be a rapper.

i’m a strange parable;
alien, descendent of allegory.
illegal contraband, inside my mother’s womb
when my parents crossed across
for me to go over these mental borders and hurdles.

“always running” past “the house on mango st.”
we are that “rose that grew from concrete.”
“holler if you hear me”-
“the pedagogy of the oppressed”;
“anarchist cookbook”;
and about a million and one manifestos and “fictions.”
“the teachings of don juan”;
and “thus spoke zarathustra”-
“the nausea of my metamorphosis.”
i am “the stranger.” i am “the stranger.”
“savage inequalities,” “savage detectives”-
“los de abajo,” and this is just
“life and death on the south side of chicago,”
and this is just
“life and death on the south side of chicago.”

yo, i don’t want to be a rapper like the ones on TV.
i want to be more like dickinson, well like emily,
have you go get my poetry from the library,
have you go get my poetry from the library.
‘cause i try so hard to just be ,
but i must admit it starts feeling so lonely.
‘cause i try so hard to just be ,
but i must admit it starts feeling so lonely.

read a book;
fuck a hook,
and be introspective.
i want to live
in a world
where people aren’t afraid to think.
fuck following a leader or the state.
this president has left us disappointed,
and most the populous- alienated and disenfranchised.
the manipulation of the working class poor
by segregating them,
imprisoning them
until finally silencing them,
and making them feel like aliens
on this planet. in this country,
there is no education,
simply indoctrination,
so pledge allegiance every morning,
and say your prayers in the evening;
and do it for god and country,
and not for liberty,
and not for democracy,
and especially not for the people
‘cause that would be so communist.
but i resist;
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting anyway.
‘cause i resist;
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting everyday.
‘cause i resist
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting anyway.
so i resist;
raise a fist,
and keep on fighting everyday.

06.19.13.
 

dada h!p5t3r ab5urd!5t 50ng v.2.0

in the pit.

dada h!p5t3r ab5urd!5t 50ng v.2.0.

who’s really hardcore?
what the heck’s hardcore?
man, i’m just a nerd.
i’m just a nerd,
and hardcore is for the birds
‘cause dada is so absurd
just like the dodo bird,
or so goes the herd or so i’ve heard,
but i’ve never had the pleasure.

and dada will take you
wherever you dream,
and dada will give you
whatever you need.

crawl to me with your little wings.
all of the magic that you bring;
all of this joy, which is so amazing,
takes over my everything.
i love being your dada,
and dada is so absurd,
and dada is such a nerd,
and there is so much that i’d like
for you to learn to share with you
about who i really am,
and how sometimes I felt like an alien,
so i called myself po’E.T.
‘cause i might never make
any money from my poetry,
which is completely ok with me.
i don’t mind remaining
an anonymous anomaly.

and dada will take you
wherever you dream,
and dada will give you
whatever you need.

you help me remember why the world once
        seemed so magical;
why i used to be excited by it all
before the loss of innocence and the fall
from childhood into accountable adults,
and you still have so much time to explore
        the world;
to explore your thoughts and your inner void,
and forgive me if i set expectations and limitations
upon your imagination.
forgive me if i set limits to your imagination.
i want your little wings to help you fly;
        take you away to all of the places
        your heart desires.
i know you came to set the world on fire.

and dada will take you
wherever you dream,
and dada will give you
whatever you need.

y tu eres movimiento y te tienes que mover.
y tu eres movimiento y te tienes que mover.
y tu eres movimiento y te tienes que mover.

05.29.13.

nada + nada pues 0.

nada + nada pues 0.

no somos nada.
lo vemos todo.
todo lo vemos,
y no hacemos nada.

no hacemos nada
por tanto miedo.
por tanto miedo
ya no hacemos nada.

y aquí nos quedamos,
después de tantos años,
en el mismo lugar
en cual empezamos,
pero aun peor porque ya estamos
mucho mas viejos que cuando empezamos.

y yo solo quiero ser alguien que pueda ser,
no tenga que esconder,
o fingir y tener que mentir
pa’ no ser juzgado por el otro.
porque además yo nunca jamás
pedí ser calificado por los demás.

yo solo quiero ser alguien que pueda ser,
yo solo quiero ser alguien que pueda ser,

ser mi mismo.

no somos nada.
lo vemos todo.
todo lo vemos,
y no hacemos nada.

no hacemos nada
por tanto miedo.
por tanto miedo
ya no hacemos nada.

no quiero mucho:
familia, amigos, y vivir tranquilo.
no quiero mucho;
un poco de espacio para descansar después
        de tanto trabajo.
no quiero mucho;
no quiero perder mi familia, amigos, y vida
        tranquila por tanto trabajo.
yo quiero al mar. quiero escuchar como
        canto yo;
quiero a la luna y quiero al sol;
quiero a las cosas que no entiendo yo.
quiero a lo raro,
a lo extraño; a los que nunca
cabrán en un solo lugar;
a lo que no se puede describir
        o explicar
porque se tiene que vivir.
porque se tiene que vivir
para entender y sentir.
para entender y sentir,
para entender y sentir.

no somos nada.
lo vemos todo.
todo lo vemos,
y no hacemos nada.

no hacemos nada
por tanto miedo.
por tanto miedo
ya no hacemos nada.

05.22.13.

cause what the fuck is going on, and how do i explain it in a song?

cause what the fuck is going on,
and how do i explain it in
a song?

i don’t promote conspiracy theories,
but it’s hard imagining
that this is all mere coincidence-
an unfortunate accident
or even intelligent design.

how scientists explain the mind,
and how we’ve understood space and time,
i am of those folks that will never march in line.
some of us gotta move our feet to the beat
        of our own
heart/imagination.

i was once a child, and they tried to
                      take mine;
erase or fade any memory
of the innocence of childhood-
the loss of memory and the loss of innocence
                      of childhood.

i don’t promote conspiracy theories,
but it’s hard to comprehend how this is happening.

this is not my country.
this is not my nation.
this is just how we promote isolation.

and this is where we’re from,
and this is where we’re from,
and this is where you’re from.
this is where i’m from.

i am just the saddest song
sung to the happiest melody.
irony? sarcasm?

“i am just that song that don’t know it don’t belong.”

and this is where…

does the future ever make you feel trapped?

05.22.13.

untitled.

untitled.

this one’s for the parasites
living inside my brain.
all of those negative thoughts
that got me here enslaved.
all of those thoughts
that simply just won’t go away.
all of those thoughts
that make a hermit want a cave.

04.03.13.

san francisco.

san francisco.

you’re a lonely bird,
and i’m a lonely bird.
yo’ we’re all just such lonely birds,
so why don’t we all just flock together
(like birds of the same feather),
and withstand this weather.
let’s travel south and
then maybe west.
let’s go insane,
and give each other new names.
let’s baptize ourselves under flames,
and emerge from the ashes
as two phoenixes.
(let’s go crazy like joaquin phoenix is.)
‘cause you’re a lonely bird,
and i’m a lonely bird,
so why don’t we just flock together.
(baby, why don’t we just fuck together.)
sorry, but it’s hard
to stay so damn positive ,
trying to repel all this negative
energy some folks project,
but we try
to forgive not forget,
and to grow from what we learn;
get beyond our dark thoughts.
break on through like jim morrison
      and william blake.
love at all costs and whatever it takes.
let’s fly south,
then out west;
maybe stop at san francisco.
it’s been so long since i’ve been.

03.13.13.

right before the robots (nuclear take over).

right before the robots (nuclear take over).

yo, i just want to write a funny song,
not so much comical, but one
that’ll bring a smile to someone’s face;
a song to remind us life’s worthwhile.
and i’m not trying to stand on no
        pedestal or some soapbox
because i completely understand we walk
        on the shoulders of great humans.
and really, we are such a tiny speck
        when we consider a human as an
        individual.

because there’s something magical in unity,
but there’s something just as beautiful in being unique.
there’s something magical in unity,
but there’s something just as beautiful in being unique.

just a tiny speck of dust;
grain of sand
passing through this vast universe,
but should i feel anymore
or any less insignificant
than an ant sliding through sand
like grains through the fingers of
my hand.
perhaps, i better sit and meditate
        on that one, huh?

because it’s all about what works best for you.
catch your own wave.
find your own beat,
and jump in when you’re ready
on this universal ride/jam.
because it’s all about what works best for you.
catch your own wave.
find your own beat,
and jump in when you’re ready
on this universal ride/jam.

because there’s something magical in unity,
but there’s something just as beautiful in being unique.
there’s something magical in unity,
but there’s something just as beautiful in being unique.
there’s something magical in unity,
but there’s something just as beautiful in being unique.

until we understand the earth is a
living organism,
not like you or me,
but alive.

02.20.13.

passive voice.

passive voice.

And as the whole universe went into a blur, so as to reflect the chaos that surrounds, some hearts are not meant to be held down by earthly concerns. Reality is an ambiguous and subjective concern. Some of us are still aching for a return to our innocence, whence we were still much more pure, or I guess, purer. And yet still some of us lack concern for the remnants of the ashes on the ground from when we were much more alive.

10.23.12.

An Itch On the Mind.

An Itch on the Mind

What the hell’s this tingling I’m having in my brain?
Is it conscious thought? What some call thinking?
Or is it just electronic neurons blindly firing? Blindly firing.

Well, I’m not really sure or feel secure in making a judgement,
Taking a stand, or claiming a position.
Can’t I just remain in the middle
Like Switzerland, be neutral.
Be a neutron without gang affiliation
Or nationalistic tendencies.
No one gets to choose my identity
Except for me. Except for me,
And all my past unconscious traumas,
Yet unresolved.
We’ve all got issues, some baggage,
But that’s no excuse to allow our governments to go on a rampage,
And drop bombs on civilians.
Gotta pay attention. Gotta pay attention.
Over complicated being human,
And now we’re all so disconnected,
And I’d just like to get back-
Back to when it wasn’t all such doom and dreary
Because all this darkness weighs heavy on the soul;
Makes the people weary.
The masses need some light;
Some celebration that isn’t so hollow and empty
To remind us of communion and community
Regardless of religion, race, or country.
Something, anything that isn’t hallmark or a god damn commercial,
But real, sincere, and honest
For a change.
Real, sincere, honest
For a change.

What the hell’s this tingling I’m having in my brain?
Is it conscious thought? What some call thinking?
Or is it just electronic neurons blindly firing? Blindly firing.

When I start to see
Beyond what stands there
Before you and me,
Between you and I,
And why is there so much space,
Or sometimes hardly enough.
How does one escape this place
Or do we just learn to bury it all and stuff?

What the hell’s this tingling I’m having in my brain?
Is it conscious thought? What some call thinking?
Or is it just electronic neurons blindly firing? Blindly firing.

08.06.14