Come to me
walk barefoot on the marble and hardwood floor
through the living room
come crawling on my bed
in circles
til you find the perfect spot
Don't sing
purr
look at me like a dying bird
on the sidewalk
during rush hour
Look at me
like a caged tiger
ready to pounce
like a hungry dog
ready to bite
and look at nothing else
Look at me
on this cloud
and make love to me
Forget who they think we are
and melt with me
my holy devil
my poisoned angel
my handcuffed mermaid
my little bird
Come with me
engage in war
let our lips and hands battle
and kill your taboo
swing on the canoe of my arms
make me your tattoo
Let me be your thirst
your jail
your sentence
let me be your freedom
your trap
let me fill you up
Undress before me
lay naked on the floor
take my hand and guide me
just like before
let me be your master
your beast
your brown bull
let me drink from your well
show me, close my eyes
I'll given you my heaven
if you take me to your hell...
Tonight, more Americans are out of work and more are working harder for less. More of you have lost your homes and even more are watching your home values plummet. More of you have cars you can't afford to drive, credit card bills you can't afford to pay, and tuition that's beyond your reach.
These challenges are not all of government's making. But the failure to respond is a direct result of a broken politics in Washington and the failed policies of George W. Bush.
America, we are better than these last eight years. We are a better country than this.
This country is more decent than one where a woman in Ohio, on the brink of retirement, finds herself one illness away from disaster after a lifetime of hard work.
This country is more generous than one where a man in Indiana has to pack up the equipment he's worked on for twenty years and watch it shipped off to China, and then chokes up as he explains how he felt like a failure when he went home to tell his family the news.
We are more compassionate than a government that lets veterans sleep on our streets and families slide into poverty; that sits on its hands while a major American city drowns before our eyes.
Barack Obama - Excerpt of The Acceptance Speech - 08-28-08
"If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich."
- John F. Kennedy
What really matters?
Your money?
or the money you inherit, borrow or steal?
it's not mine
so it doesn't matter
if that is all that matters to you
then you don't matter to me
I've learned the value of the round table
Your height?
hardly, for not just the most successful
have been of average height
but also the most atrocious
for true height is not measure
it is acknowledged.
Your weight?
your weight you carry
some carry it better than others
but most of the time it is genes
health is of bigger concern
Your sexual orientation?
that's a choice
and sometimes I wonder why we have to choose
it is, after all, no ones business
and at this moment my heterosexuality makes me question
if it is the cause of my insanity
then again I didn't chose to like women
I just do
Your education
as long as it is to help others
and not to hide your insecurity
by belittling others with articulate words
Your religion
I hate it
whichever one it is
but I forgive you
cause it won't save you
as far as I'm concerned you can keep knocking on doors
praying, prying, begging, preaching, judging and killing
for I have many Gods
one is a fiery animal
and it's coming for you
until you stop playing God
or pretending to know what God wants
There's no time to dwell in the past
yesterday no longer exists
and there's no point in worrying about the future
and it's uncertainties
and our insecurities bathing tomorrows
there's only time for right now
and nothing more
breathe and live right now
this minute
completely aware
or you'll miss out
your God, he'll wait
Me?
right now I want milk and honey
"- come here, pussycat"
I'm safe
in my circle of fire
I'm safe
in the darkness
away from mirrors
televisions and telephones
I'm alive
and my feet are burning
I'm running
barely touching the ground
I think I'm a cheetah
running in freedom
breathing in
breathing out
sailing through this labyrinth of dreams
leaving your maze of nightmares behind
I call the fire and the water
and Ogum and Iemanja
I gather all my Gods and Goddesses
take a strand of your hair
and cut a picture in half
light a candle
and dream in prayer
and burn copal
and breathe
and let go
with my necklace and charm
in a circle of fire
I'm alive
I'm protected
and with a bleeding chicken
I'm proclaiming a spell
There's no better shield than truth
and no better spear than words
The past is to mourn
the future is for you to repent
I'm protected
I'm alive
and the fire is burning
and I'm burning the yesterdays
the hours and moments and the seconds
the mementos and memories
in this cauldron of blame
I'm burning
I'm running
through the forest of dreams
I'm here
I'm sailing through this labyrinth
and yes, I'm tempted
and I trip and fall
and sin and lie
and use and borrow
and cheat and fight
and I'm protected
today and tomorrow
and tomorrow is today
and today I hide regret and truth
under this dark cloth
and all transparency is beginning to fade
I'm burning
I'm smoke
you can't see me
I'm your dreams
I'm putting things in different places
I'm changing stars
I'm erasing your path
I'm pushing this wheelbarrow of guilt
and pain
I'm swimming to fly
I'm hiding your rainbow
and I'm twisting your luck
bitter taste
rust in water
I am the poison
the snake
the ruin
the dirty water of your present
a black bird of sorrow
I'm your nightmare come true
and in your headaches
I'm alive
I'm protected
in a circle of fire
(patiently, we await)
Cuernavca, Mexico Circa 1982
Lunchbox and backpack in hand, I'm on the school bus on my way to school.
I wonder if my friends will mind the fact that her pictures are so heavily retouched, you know? with that thick, white cloudy airbrush gloom.
Then again, it's Morgan Fairchild on the center cover of this 1982 Penthouse issue (which I borrowed from my dad's collection) and you can see herrrr in full ... "errrrr..."
...."It Isn't Mine..... I Swear, it isn't mine..."
" -expelled? so I get to go home????"
Fine, fine!!! you sleazy Mexican Hitlerites. Go right ahead, ban me from your slave and mentally distorted education, idiots...
No, I couldn't have said that.
...but I thought about it.
So there I go, in the back seat of my Mom's car, wondering if Morgan will forgive me for leaving her behind at the Principal's office (ironic). They wouldn't give it back and my Mother didn't seem very ..supportive of the idea, to say the least.
No more pr0n, and I'm a sad little boy.
My records, the naky poster Freddy Mercury gave me and my bike are all that's left in my elementary universe.
WHAT??? New School???
but I thought I didn't have to...
Fine, I'm sure my new Kiss album will make me look cool. It's the "Dressed to Kill" Long Play, Gene is on the cover wearing a sharp, oxford grey suit and he's scratching his nuts in style, nice...
What? I'm expelled? Again?
You Country Music listening weirdos, there's nothing wrong with Kiss... and it's just the cover of the...
It's ok Mom, really, they hated Mark Twain, bad school.
New School? this one is nice... some of the girls are blonde... private? and I'm going to learn how to speak English? this is wonderful, I love you Mommy, now I will be able to read who's going to be Pet of the Year...
...and the Patriot Act
- Under an Angel with wings wide open -
I feel my finger's twitching...
and I can feel cold air on my nostrils...
I open my eyes in stupid ecstatic wonder
and I take a mouthful of air
almost choking
like a baby
as if I had just been born
Where am I?
all I see is a white walled cube
What is this place?
almost floating on soft white sheets
surrounded by strange looking computers, tubes
and little flashing lights
dancing to the beat of my heart
I'm alive?
How did I get here?
I should have died in a Nile of blood....
but apparently I didn't
not yet
The Gypsy spell and the Aztec heart
the Mexican-Teutonic blood prevailed
and I'm still here.
But now it's different
there's hope
and I feel much better
stronger
and I'm getting up on my feet again
I can walk
but wait...
I feel like I can fly
and see through walls
why am I suddenly all dressed in black?
and what happened to the mirror?
for my reflection is no more
and I feel thirsty, very thirsty
As I take my first steps I trip and fall
I'm still weak
face down on the cold linoleum
there's a woman under my bed
it's a nurse
her blond hair in a ponytail
her round ass silhouettes her white dress
perfectly like her thighs
she's pale, she's dead
now I realize it was her I tripped on
but why?
and what are those tow red marks on her neck?
I'm thirsty
very thirsty...
Today I woke up early
before everybody else
just like my horoscope said.
The coffee maker brew at 5am
right on the dot.
My camo pants and shirt are on the bed
the gun I bought at the pawn shop is loaded
and the tazer is fully charged
last night I got the bugger primed.
I set my alarm clock for this
and it's right on time
I have quite the day ahead of me
but first I want to catch a bird
that white morning dove
immaculate heaven fallen angel
I'm about to surprise her on the window sill
there she is
and I'm crouching silently
Shhhhh!!! I'm now behind her
slowly....
grab her suddenly and let her fight
without getting away
then hold her and caress her
kiss her little white head
make a nest for her in my arms...
Then tear her wings apart with my bare hands
throw her in the burning oven
together with a Bible and the rest of my bills
with a fifth of jack and the instructions to life
setting the fucking place on fire
while I chew on a box full of full metal jackets
and red hot Chipotle peppers
feed the fire
spitting out flaming tequila bursts from my nose
I want to tackle the fridge to the ground
and split the bathtub with an axe
I want to kick your puppie's milk bowl
and shoot grandma's oxygen tank with a sawed off shotgun
then tango with her carcass
I want to punch a math teacher on the face
rob a bank
fight a cop
hire an expensive Asian prostitute
fuck her in the alley
drink a bottle of Chivas
smoke a cigar
drive a limo at 100 mph
on 405
crash it against a Costco gas station
stab myself in the leg
play football with a turtle
throw a bench on the lake
speed on a bike across the bridge
jump from a plane
with a useless parachute
try heroin
vote for McCain
throw lobsters out the window
kiss you and bite your tongue out
kick the tube with my steel toe boots
run, run as fast as I can
run people over with a garbage truck
jump from a building and show you how to fly
grab a high voltage cable, just for the high
play Led Zeppelin on the old turntable
and sit naked on the dirty bathroom floor
to slash my veins and see the snowflakes falling slowly
on the early winter of this miserable life.
VIDEOBLOG
A few months ago I hurt my back and a never ending quest for well being began its course. As usual I had to play the beaner card in order to get am MRI at Virginia-Mason, since their constant denial in providing health care has become somewhat routine. I eventually landed at the spine clinic at their hospital, in downtown Seattle where I was seen by some Dr named Antoine. Seriously, who would name their kid Antoine? I mean, if a fortune teller told me he would become a Musketeer or a Broadway Ave Drag, then maybe. Anyway, he asked me 3 questions and then kept billing me, over and over again, even after my insurance covered the bill (not even that do they know how to do). So I ended up going to Physical Therapy at a small place inside a gym inside a downtown building. Apparently my L4 is in bad shape and therefore I go once a week.
I feel much better now. They have me roll and turn and slide over these huge red, green and blue plastic balls like an illegal immigrant contortionist trying to sell a weight loss potion at the local county fair, this behind window panes, like a Panda bear. So now I have a quorum and on Sundays they even throw peanuts at me. I just can't get used to seeing my butt rolling on a huge blue ball in closed circuit.
