writing

Introduction

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preface. 

why am i writing poetry? why is anyone writing poetry anymore? well that there’s a good question, isn’t it? why does anyone ever indulge in such a waste of time? merely to pass the time and indulge in self-indulgent feelings where one is continuously simply thinking about thinking. an exercise in mental masturbation.

poetry’s been reduced to plain pop and simple rap about bitches and ho’s or loves that just can’t be. or maybe you hate your parents? poetry and lyrics murdered by lip-synchers, dancers, and fake mc’s, or by some angst driven suburbanite that needs you to feel his pain, or the drunk little white boys that fantasize about being as cool as the rappers while playing their guitar and their three chords.

poetry murdered and retreated underground to slams and open mic’s. and what happened to the poets? very few practice the magic or the witchcraft anymore, and only those that write poetry go to listen and/or read poetry.

just trying to have a place to talk, have their voices heard, and

rant.

is poetry now just everyone’s inner noise and static? poetry’s been many things – sorcerers and spells, the tribe calling for rain, the church and ceremony, all calling higher powers and higher beings, prayer and

incantation.

poetry’s been a song and a political

chant.

so why am i writing poetry? and who the fuck cares? nobody cares.

the truth is sometimes i wonder if even i care, and not just about this here poetry, but about everything, and when you get down to it, i don’t think anyone really cares because when you get down to it, no one’s really committed themselves to this place here, earth, because everyone is well aware of the fact that one day they will die.

nobody cares and don’t confuse yourself by telling yourself that, “oh wait because i do care.” no you don’t. nobody cares. would you die for this earth or this life? no, why would you? maybe you would fight for your shit, but you wouldn’t die for it. why would you die for it? what would be the point then?

or maybe you’d like to think that you’d die for future generations, but that wouldn’t be dying for something, it’d be sacrificing yourself. oh, how noble of you; comparing yourself to a martyr, and you haven’t even died yet.

nobody cares and don’t get it twisted, ya heard. one day it will all make sense like a taoist dream or a yaqui exercise and you’ll experience

easy breathing.

but sometimes confusion leads to anger and one climbs mountaintops to yell like zarathustra; “fuck da police,” or “fuck you i won’t do what you tell me,” or “hasta la victoria” because everyone’s allowed to throw a

tantrum.

the world can eat you up, lead you into dark corners, and scare you into hiding. people can make you afraid. the whole world can be frightening because everything looks black with shades of gray. everything will seem so small like the walls caving in or too grand to grasp until you feel yourself under vertigo. chest beating hard and difficulties in breathing-

panic attack.

rants, chants, and incantations.

tantrums, panic attacks, and easy breathing.

why am i writing poetry? because i can’t sing or because i’m not a rapper. maybe, i just like e.e. cummings and typing way too much. maybe, i was bored. maybe, this is just what the fuck i wanted to do.

remember, the number sixan d the number 75 and that 75 plus six equals 81.  because eight plus one is nine.

with all this having been said…

02.02.03.

chicago, short e.

prologue.

fuck explanations.
just read; poetry bleeding from out of our 
     shared history; 
from witchcraft and spells, to legends and songs, 
     recording history through poetry, poetic 
     ethnography; 
from speaking to god, to just remembering, 
     playing innocently in the garden and 
     speaking to moths. 
some write to write, write to share, write out of 
     necessity, write to find, or lose their mind. 

enter the universe’s spine- easy breathing. 
call out to the god’s- incantations. 
world is just too small- panic attacks. 
never get mine’s- tantrums. 
sing along magic spells- chants. 
just need to talk- rants. 

fuck explanations. 
no one reads poetry. no one reads anymore. 
this isn’t for no one or anyone. just me for me. 

fuck explanations and fuck you – 
the reader. 
                                                  12.02.02. 
short e.

bands for young folk

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So before a lot of people start to assume that I listen only to hip hop and rap, or others that I’m an over-aged angry punk rocker, here’s a list of newer folk music I really enjoy. I think deep down when all is said and done, I am really just a big time hippie.

I don’t know what folk music really is, nor do I like putting music into genres, but this is just what I think of when I think of folk music, and I really like the fact that it seems to be coming back, at least commercially it is much more visible. There is no order to this (and that’s just the way I like it) list.

1. Bowerbirds 

I heard this band with my wife, then girlfriend, after one of her best friend’s weddings. They had planned for those that were still up for partying to accompany them to the show. We bought their album that night, and fell in love with this band. But besides the emotional connections to our memories, their music always makes me yearn for a good walk through a forest away from the city for a bit, which is probably intended since they have been known to write a few songs, and albums in fact, amongst nature’s wilderness. They also use an accordion, which is very cool when it is made to rock.

2. Devendra Banhart 

This guy’s music just blows me away, not because it’s so complicated, but because it seems so simple and effortless. It just seems like so much fun. It’s also very worldly, and if you read any information about him, you’ll understand why. He might be a bit theatrical for some, but I find it comically refreshing.

3. Beirut 

His electronic stuff might not be so folky, but his music displays the sounds of the world and of the past. He delves heavily into eastern European sounds, a bit of Paris mixed in, and has even recorded half an album with a Mexican folk band. I include him because he plays the ukulele.

4. Y La Bamba 

I must admit that this is a band that I have only found recently and am a bit disappointed with myself for not having found them earlier. Their name was something that kind of scared me away at first, but after watching a few videos on Youtube, I was impressed. Their from Portland, which, no way, really, but yeah, they are very cool. I just really liked all the harmonizing that this band has going on.

5. Animal Collective 

This band is a whole different animal if you will. The collective is really just four guys, that pretty much exchange leads on songs, and not always with all four members. Though they include a lot of electronics, I find their approach to be very folk, especially at how songs sound like jam sessions. As they’ve gotten bigger, their projects have gotten more ambitious, but their is still a lot of soul to their music. Avey Tare and Panda’s solo projects are also very good, and in my opinion much more focused than Merriweather Post Pavilion.

6. Andrew Jackson Jihad 

I will admit that the name was the first thing that made me want to check out this band. Let’s face it, it’s evocative. And sometimes, there music is as well, but for the most part their music is a lot of fun. There’s a lot of videos where you can check them out using a stand up bass and a washboard. They have a song about people that eat people being the luckiest people of all. Check them out if you have a sense of humor.

7. CocoRosie 

Two sisters. Something about Americans going to live in Paris, and making music. They use children’s toys as instruments, and often sing in child like tones, which are actually more haunting than soothing. This is hippie music for the ex-goth kid.

8. Kimya Dawson 

As half of The Moldy Peaches, Kimya Dawson demonstrated quite a sarcastic wit. With the soundtrack for Juno, she demonstrated a much softer and mature side, which is where she is usually at now as a solo artist. She also creates children’s music, which she performs where half of the show is meant for the kids, while the second half is aimed at their parents. I’ve also heard a few songs from a project she’s working on with Aesop Rock, which I have been eagerly anticipating.

9. MGMT 

These guys’ music makes me very happy. It is a bit commercial at times, and sometimes I do feel it’s more about aesthetics with them, but I must admit that they put on a good show.

10. Akron/Family 

Although since losing Ryan Vanderhoof the band does not sound completely the same in my opinion. They are still a very good band, which jams out like the best bands of the 60’s and 70’s. I guess I really like bands that have a lot of harmonizing.

Maybe the only thing these bands have in common is that they fill me with nostalgia.

my year in lists – topics of interest

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So I will be compiling random lists of tens. I guess until I run out of ideas. Each list will be about a specific topic. None of the lists will be extensive, but merely reflect the mood I am in. All of the lists will be presented in no particular order, but probably more or less the order in which I thought about them.

If anything these lists are meant to help me keep mental inventory of my interests.

Topics of Interest

1. Graffiti 

piece by Blu

I love the city, and am an urban brat. With that said, maybe it’s because of the neighborhoods I’ve grown up in, but graffiti has always intrigued me. The level of expression and the level of illegality make the art form attractive to all urban rebels, especially since many of its messages have yet to be deciphered.

2. Yoga

Viribhadrasana

I know it’s trendy as all hell, but for someone who grew up disliking jocks, yoga is a happy medium. The stretching is something that gets me going, and ready to head out into the city streets. The fact that I can practice yoga anywhere I have my mat is something, which ensures I maintain my yoga practice. Plus the meditation aspect of yoga is perfect to help shut off the city noise when so desired.

I’m personally a big fan of Rodney Yee, and watching his DVD’s really helped get my practice started which has now lasted over two years.

3. Shamanism

Shaman vision

My initial interest began with Jim Morrison. Eventually, I read Carlos Castaneda books. In my travels through Mexico, I have at several times attempted to connect to my indigenous past through shamanism and my ancestors magical past.

Anyone with a little of consciousness can sense that something is very wrong with the world. You don’t have to be an economist or rocket scientist to have a feeling that we are heading in a very dangerous direction. Perhaps, now more that ever, we are in need of the Shaman. Our rock stars no longer fulfill that need, the way the Doors intended to do.

4. Indie–DIY

As someone that grew up on punk music, this is just a further extent of the culture into adulthood. I am glad that the DIY movement is extending outside of the music scene and into very pragmatic everyday things like generating one’s own electricity. The mainstream will never know where it’s at until it’s too late because the kids are all doing it for themselves.

5. Environmentalism

Being green.

This is a no brainer. The planet is on everyone’s minds, well at least those of us who believe in science. I’m really excited by the do-it-yourself aspect of a lot of environmental initiatives, especially those in the inner city and in “underdeveloped” countries.

6. Mexico

painting by Orozco

Mexico is the country where my parents came from. In order to better understand who I am, I have had to learn about where they came from. This has helped me understand them better, but also myself. The country to the south is like a grandparent I hardly knew growing up, but with which I have become very familiar with as an adult. Mexico is for all intents and purposes still a post-revolutionary state.

corazon Zapatista

7. Education

 

Let me be clear, I am interested in an education of liberation, and not simply in a liberal education. Until that distinction is made clear, all conversation and dialogue will be futile.

8. Poetry

Saul Williams

"Coded Language" on Def Poetry Jam

Poetry is my passion, my friend, my retreat, and my weapon. Poetry fills a lot of spaces in my world. I first started writing regularly when I was 12, but I didn’t think of myself as a serious poet until I was 16. Still I wasn’t able to refer to myself as a poet until I came up with the moniker, po’ E.T. about 4-5 years ago.

Will post a post about my favorite ten poets later, or at least my ten favorite that day.

9. Vinyl

not just for hipsters anymore

I got into vinyl into seeing something on the history channel. They found these vases that had grooves on the outside, which they tried to play with a needle and a speaker. They explained about how if we were to lose access to all technology, we’d still be able to play vinyl as long one had a needle and something to use as a speaker. It made me think, “I better get some vinyl to ensure I got some tunes for the apocalypse.”

10. Black & White Photography

Beatriz's great grandfather

Nothing beats being able to process your own film and develop one’s own photos. I miss having access to a darkroom, but digital photography compensates for it, and requires much less space and no inhaling of chemicals.

dream # 7: surrounded.

Frausto 1 Comment 
sept. 22, 1998.
dream #7: surrounded.
     there is a church that i think i've seen on past visits to mexico. it's so big that it blocks everything behind it like it's blocking off the rest of the world. it's one of those great huge stone churches that looks like a castle. very well decorated with flowers of all colors. the people must have had a festival a few days earlier. there are remnants of fireworks on the floor. my younger cousins are running around and laughing. these are cousins that i haven't seen for a long time, but i recognize them all. my surviving grandparents are sitting in front of me. we are sitting in the middle of this park where the church lies in front of me. we are sitting on the inside of two u-shaped benches. my dad is sitting next to me. my mom and sisters are sitting across from us, next to my grandparents. i'm happy. i haven't felt safe near a church for a while. these people dressed in black robes with black pointy hoods approach us. all the trees in the background disappear. the hooded people become the background. they tell us that we don't belong there. they could almost pass for monks or nuns because they're wearing big crosses around their necks. most of them are women. they begin to make racist remarks against us. they're telling us, but i think they're talking more to me, that we're stupid. i start to cry. there's nothing i can do, and i hate that. their big bodies tower over me. i'm so small compared to them. i start shaking. i'm not sure if it's out of anger or fear. i decide to confront them but my dad holds me back. everyone else is just sitting there. no one is reacting. i'm not sure why the rest of my family is just sitting there, emotionless. all this while i keep shaking and crying, clinching my fists.
sophomore year. creative writing class assignment.