notion 57.
i’m an introspective fuck.
that’s who i am,
and that
be me.
beats me
how i became
me,
but me’s
become me.
and was it all part
of some
greater design?
an accident?
natural selection?
a self serving,
self fulfilling prophecy?
a
process
by me?
08.02.2005.
notion 58.
how many times?
do you remember?
that we’ve searched
for answers
without really knowing
what it was
that we were
looking for?
08.03.2005.
notion 55.
y yo veía
como llovía.
07.30.2005.
notion 56.
y el espacio,
despacio,
se terminaba.
07.30.2005.
notion 52.
there is a void,
which one falls into
to rest,
fall asleep away
from all the noise,
and in this void
sometimes there’s peace.
(buddha hums, “nirvana.”)
but then
there’s a void,
which one sinks into,
and disappears
all alone.
(where are the arms
to hold us?
to save us?)
all alone.
07.25.2005.
notion 53.
someone please
speak pretty
words to the world.
it gets so lonely.
it gets so lonely,
(and i just want
you to hold me.)
07.25.2005.
notion 54.
puff
of
smoke.
the world is oh so fluffy,
and i need space
from rules,
from norms.
and when and where did this all form?
07.25.2005.
notion 51.
i have a father
who dreamed
of being an engineer,
but left para el norte,
and let go of his
dreams.
(without sounding
egotistical),
he left for me.
he and my mother,
him and her.
loosened his dreams to float away,
let go of
life in his country.
and life in the city
was a life of society.
i hate what this country,
how this free america
has enslaved my father
to forget his dreams.
those i’ve not forgotten.
and how can it not hurt?
when he’s done it for me,
us, his children.
so i live in hopes
he remembers his dreams,
and his life never in vain
for he has been my guide
along the way.
07.25.2005.
notion 49.
a cuanto?
no me lo deja mas barato?
halla lo venden
por menos.
a cuanto?
a cuanto?
cual es el precio
de todos
nuestros
deseos?
y en cuanto
me dejan
mis sueños?
en paz
que descansen.
D.E.P.
E.P.D.
R.I.P.
07.24.2005.
notion 50.
have always been
of the kind
that liked
to escape-not life,
“i could deal with that,”
but the humans’
blank stares
piercing over me, through,
cause no one
looks directly,
and does that say anything
about we? (u or me?)
07.24.2005.
notion 46.
my eyes
pulled out-
didn’t
want to
see an-
y more.
07.24.2005.
notion 47.
get gone-
we’re all
fine here.
sat on the corner
of 59th,
asking somebody
fo’ a lil bit o’ change
to do a lil bit o’ drinkin’.
07.24.2005.
notion 48.
reflectionlessness.
07.24.2005.
will
i
am
not,
but
carlos
i
have
been,
but
could
not
will
to
am to be
like
william
carlos
williams.
could
not
will
to
enjoy,
get lost.
why
did
so much depend
upon
a
red
wheelbarrow.
i ams,
i is,
but
could
not
will
to be,
to say
i am
what i
could never be,
and
never was.
in america,
was i,
am i
an american?
poet?
o’ america
could i
will
to see myself
in your own
image?
i am
not
my
will-
the self
long
murdered
after
longing
for
someone else’s
self,
so
as to
feel more american.
uncle sam
was not
designed
in my image.
in fact,
it was designed
to crush my
image.
not in my name,
so how
did i will
to speak
under confused
tongues?
willing,
god willing
to pull the wool
over our eyes,
america,
oh say (josé),
can you see
how blind
you have been?
you have grown?
whitman’s america
wilted.
what walt?
and
i
could not
will to be
like
williams
just another
american poet.
i’ll
will to be
like
blake, rimbaud, kerouac, borges, ginsberg,
baraka
of the
world,
of the
americas.
oh say, i
do see
how this
country
never wanted
me.
07.24.2005.
you should tell
the kids about
maintaining their
culture even if
you have to
learn the
language
like they have,
and its importance.
07.2005.
notion 42.
so islands, we have fallen into
till self deserts the selves
of all the things we are
till we just all become aliens.
but it’s ok.
i won’t burst your bubble.
and like balloons float,
it’s ok.
don’t be afraid
of what you really are.
07.22.2005.
notion 43.
delusions
raised up like walls,
and innocence
has lost its place,
and it’s started
to hurt to dream.
hard to take
things so seriously.
are people
ever going to
change?
and the world
we’ve dreamed of
might never become
if we don’t
have time enough
to speak
or love anybody.
slowly dying
and innocence
has lost its place.
07.22.2005.
notion 38.
go live
your life
free from me.
i give you back your
liberty.
you treat me like i
stole it,
but you can
have it back
if you need
it that bad.
07.20.2005.
notion 39.
?
notion 40.
afraid of touch.
my bones shake.
you just broke me.
07.20.2005.
notion 41.
yes,
we all crash
into cars
out on the ground
against the stars,
but have you dreamed?
(you know i dream.)
of crashing, colliding
forwards, towards
love?
crash.
07.22.2005.
UP!::urban po'E.Tree(s) 