in chicago back again: epilogue: notion i.

notion i.

sail off space.
all notions are
pure $#!+,
and now i am
back in the city,
and must return
towards, under
to the land
of the sheep
where folks slave away
for expensive shiny things
like sweet sixteens on mtv,
and this land of society,
“cultured civilization”
choking and crashing
against itself.
suicidal id
intent on reintroducing
itself with death,
and vision becomes blurry
and cloudy,
so what is real?
when one falls deeper
into meaning or
meaninglessness,
staring back into hollow eyes,
searching for redemption
and not just another
political statement
as political statements are those of image
of an imagination gone awry
in which the psyche has developed
the schema of an ego,
and actually begins to think
it matters and exists as an
individual entity.
broke to become free.
an economic ability
to purchase anything
while selling out the soul into slavery
while falling in love
with one’s purchasing power,
transforming into a coward
towards a system
that’s become dependent
on products and commodities-
the perks.
and all it took was a few jerks
to set the plans to work
intent on controlling the flow,
oblivious of the tao and the way,
and perhaps someone’s
already mentioned all of this,
and none of it would have to make sense,
or ever come to an ending.
returning to chaos.
a world of rolling stones
with boxes for secrets or
closets with skeletons
waiting to be exposed,
and released of the pressure
of the world of society
and civilization
where one forgets dreams,
and what everything means,
or at once meant
before innocents lost
to cruel economists, which
sold out nature to tourists
where the majority get to serve,
but hardly travel and visit.
there are always exceptions, and
we are just a few
that don’t really matter
just a body with mass on the way
towards the way, which is the way,
says lao tse.
the world a giant body with mass,
so does it matter?
the world is so large,
and i am so small,
and time even less when it’s infinite.
as all concepts are confused about the seasons
caused by global warming
or the apocalypse and the end of days approaching.
who ever is right, and does it matter?
but the life that we live,
and the people we meet,
the parts of the earth we embrace
when we greet the life
of us all a journey
to which one should select
a front row seat.

08.16.2005.

on a plane from atlanta to chicago: notion 135.

notion 135.

let me in.
let me in,
so that i
can’t get out.
in your heart,
i will rest
away from
all the noise
cause i need
arms and hands
to embrace
all of me.
let me in,
and maybe,
we just might
make this a
better place
for children
to inherit
cause i know
that i can’t
do it alone,
and if you
are willing,
then i will
jump off with you.
let me in.
gets so cold
out here
all alone
without you,
and we just might
make this a
better world
if we start
working together.

but that’s
all nonsense
cause you’re just
looking out
for number one.
yourself, right?
which is why
we all feel
so alone.

08.15.2005.

on a plane from atlanta to chicago: notion 134.

notion 134.

so i’ve placed my secrets
in a box.
became the turtle,
sank into my shell,
but fear won’t guide me,
so slow and steady,
i keep on spying on everything,
and studying
how human beings
live behind closed doors
so unhappy,
but oh well, i guess,
we should all just lie,
and pop a zoloft or two
until you forget
that you’re depressed
cause one’s not free.
for if one was,
there’d be no need
for doors or locks.

08.15.2005.

on a plane from atlanta to chicago: notion 133.

notion 133.

and what about your president
speaking spanish
to confuse us,
but even if i spoke
latin or greek,
what would the state
think of me?
when the problem is
how everyone looks at me.
i can’t be me,
then why would i want
to be a part of
what everyone calls
society?
i’d much rather get lost
in the jungle
or on the beach,
and continue my wandering
while wondering
how it all could
make sense,
but doesn’t.

08.15.2005.

on a plane from atlanta to chicago: notions 130-131.

notion 130.

i was made in guanatos,
and all those kids roaming
are all just like me,
and i am just like them.

there is no difference
between us and them.

08.15.2005.

notion 131.

and i am just
like all my students,
we get trained,
start thinking,
eventually,
we will fit in,
and accepted by
los gringos americanos,
but no matter
how many degrees
i acquire,
i’m still nobody.
they still see me
like another Mexican,
wetback,
who got lucky,
but i ain’t need
no affirmative action
or a bilingual education
to defend me.
don’t expect me
to forget my culture,
and my parents’ history
so easily.

08.15.2005.

on a plane from atlanta to chicago: notion 129.

notion 129.

i cannot join your church,
run and join the state,
pay my union dues,
but i don’t know
what i should do,
so i’ve traveled
to find myself again,
to find what i had lost
when my parents did depart
from our ancient homeland,
so i’ll apologize,
but i can’t join
in on the fun.
i’m still looking for me
whatever that may mean.

08.15.2005.