National Record Store Day

What? yes people, apparently today we celebrate record stores (yes, I know it sounds like an inside joke) but I think it's awesome, I mean, someone has to keep up with Country, Trash metal and Rap.... from Lil Crappy Crap Rap to Daniel Lanois to the latest American Idol.
Thank you, oh record store comrades, for joining the cause, for stocking the shelves with Zeppelin, Bowie, Queen, King Crimson, Robert Fripp, Roxy Music, JEFF Beck (and now you can imagine the rest) and not leave us with U2 and El Debarge as the only alternative choices.
Greetings to all that leave me broke in my fav record stores:
Everyday Music - Seattle, WA
Hi-Fi - Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Mixup - Mexico City
Dedo Gordo - Cuernavaca, Mexico

What about Sonic Boom and Easy Street Records? (too much attitude, same goes to the Apple Store in Southcenter) you're not skinny, skinny, skinny androgynous baristas making magik xpresso's on the hill, so chill.
Worst album I ever bought? Star Wars by Mecco (hey, I was 10)

2.5 months Tobacco Free

2 1/2 months since I quit already, and there's no going back
it feels so good....
However.... "Garbo Fidelis Eternae"

Mexico vs China at Qwest Field

4/16/08 Seattle I had been waiting for this for a while now, I've been here for almost nine years now and it's about time. I finally got to see "El Tri" The Mexican national football team live, with Genie. Almost 10 years ago I saw them defeat Brazil 4-3 at Estadio Azteca, Mexico City 08/04/1999. Today I got to see Mexico vs China, here, at Qwest Field. The game was ....good pace but it was mostly China taking some soccer lessons from a Mexico that couldn't turn their tactics into results, sometimes random. Mexico 1 - China 0. How did it feel? like the Match of the Century, since I hadn't seen Mexico play in so long, but it was far from a Fla-Flu or a Roma-Juventus. The Stadium... now THAT was cool as shit. I expected to see a fourth, maybe half of it filled with a Mexican crowd, heck I was even wondering if my tickets would be close to the largets group... and Oh My God Cabron, we almost packed it (just wait a couple of years, in 10 we will fill Qwest and Safeco). Qwest Field looked beautiful in Blanco, Verde y Rojo and for the first time Seattle truly felt like home (I knew this would happen sooner or later). Can't wait for a Sounders game

Boa Viagem

This one is going to hurt. Just the thought of scraping the surface of this life (inside a life) is daunting, frightening, heart wrenching.
I can see it ripping apart already, tearing at the seams. It feels like a tear but it looks like blood, dripping from an open wound.
No, this is not like a failed romance that I can write about, following the usual process to expel pain from my heart, to abort it for once and for all, to extract it like a bullet trapped in the ribs.
No, this is not something I can amputate, and I wouldn't if I could.
Brasil is mixed in my blood, tattooed on my skin, embedded in my brain. Brasil is half of my soul and Boa Viagem is half my heart.

Recife is an old city, situated on the coast of Northeast Brazil, with some old buildings along the Capibaribe and Beberibe rivers, in classic Dutch architecture, with pastels everywhere, Founded as a  Dutch colony, then controlled by Portugal, known as the Venice of South America, this is the most important city and port in Brasil's Northeast.
I was fourteen when I moved from Rio. First to the old part of town, at Rua da Aurora street, it was here that I met Fabio Craveiro (son of famous journalist Paulo Craveiro) and Daniel Zimmerman. They were to become my first friends in Recife (Daniel and I remain friends to this day).

I was completely and absolutely lost. I didn't speak Portuguese fluently yet, and I missed my father terribly.
We lived on the 21st floor and had a full view of the city. From the living room I could see the Ilha do Governador (Governor's Island), with another body of land in between, bridges crossing both rivers, across from my apartment.
My stepfather had a really busy schedule, always in campaigns for his political party and my mother went with him most of the time. I was left to the care of a couple of maids, and these two friends. My mother eventually signed me up at the American School where I was able to continue studying, since all classes were taught in English plus an hour of Portuguese daily.
The school was (and still is) in the neighborhood of Boa Viagem, a suburb by the beach where the beachfront 5 Star Hotels and luxury apartments stand side by side, row after row.
I remember it used to take me 4 hours to get there on the school bus, each way, everyday. We eventually moved to Boa Viagem and my life would never be the same.

We were 2 blocks away from the beach and pretty close to the Shopping Center. The best part was the view of the Atlantic from my bedroom. Suddenly I wasn't lost anymore, I was nicknamed and became popular in a matter of days, life had gained a brand new meaning. After all, nothing chases away depression like a colorful bikini smiling and squinting at you.
As I grew up into a young man there were several people whom had an influence in whom I've become, my lifelong brother-like friend Gutty, "MaryPop", Alexandra (schoolmate and ex-girlfriend whom I can only describe as Brazil in the shape of a girl. Gamelao, Caca and Paulina (do Transatlantico) who showed me Olinda.
This is the city where I grew up to become a man, where I met people who opened their hearts to immigrants and make them feel at home, who made me feel as part of their family and whom I embraced as my own.
I haven't been to Recife since 1989, and yet I still remember so many little things. I recently reconnected with Rafaella and other friends, it's as if it where yesterday. Gutty is still there... maybe one day, maybe next year...

Eclipse

Some late summer afternoons
I feel the cool breeze messing up your hair
messing with my messy thoughts
when I see your face and your naked shoulders
laying on a pillow
on the white sheets on my bed

then I throw myself on top of you
and there's no room for air between our bodies
that is when I know
I know it all

that is when you look like someone else
every woman does
sweeter, younger
innocent, immaculate
like prey
or maybe it's the rush of blood to the head
or the different angle of vision
but a woman in that position always does

she under my chest is all the stars
suns, moons, super novas
the universe, a flower

life eclipse
equinox death
infinity in your sugar frosted sex
as your eyes reveal to be the source of life
and your breath the air I breathe
your soft breasts under my hands like snowed peaks
as I sleep on your stomach
my tundra, my plateau

then I swim and I bathe
and I drown and drunk I drink your endless waterfall
I devour you all, plump and peach
and then you disappear me in the night
with your spells
with those petals
you call hands.

I'm moving again.....

After a year of living in Lake Union I'm moving to Renton. It has been an experience and the Hill will continue to be my hood, as I won't stop grabbing my latte's at Vivace, sunbathing in polka dot speedo's and prussian winter camo beach towels at Cal Anderson Park, buying CD's at Everyday Music and eating at Charlies. As a result I have renewed my membership to Castle (yes, the super porn store) for the next 5 years.
Still, I'm looking forward to Renton and the camaraderie of a good friend and roomie.
Also I'm looking forward to having Washer and Dryer in unit, SPA, gym and covered parking at no extra charge.

Sand in the Vaseline

Salty water splashing on my face
Sometimes in Puerto Marquez
Sailing a Hobie Cat to the sunset

Cool breeze
warm instant coffee and coffee mate
on the deck of a 41" Morgan
another lazy morning
at the clubhouse in the yacht club

It all makes sense and doesn't
on her cinnamon skin
scent of coconut vodka
sand where it shouldn’t
my hands discovering a tropical island
in her bright yellow swimsuit

Life happens
and changes and storms and time
and realities and dreams are never what we wanted
cold water splashing on my face
get up; it's time to go to work
I only get to daydream in a 5 minute latte
before it's too late

Don't think love is forever
happiness is random and sporadic
and life keeps pouring minutes
on the death clock and her hours
for timeless is the buoy
and endless was her skin
don't think it's forever
my mind betrays
and I'm slowly drifting away
back to the coconut sands
to the vodka mango
to the island I once left behind
so much for a $5.00 latte
I better get to work on time.

Rush

Cuernavaca, Mexico. Circa 1981

It must have been on a weekend, probably Saturday, because I didn't have school that day. It was late morning and after a hearty breakfast I went out for a ride on my bike. I noticed how the pool seemed inviting, the red bugambilias in full blossom adorned the landscaped gardens of this one story house, located in the neighborhood of Rancho Cortez, which is in the north part of town. Spring was here and the mountain air brought a cool breeze, how I love Cuernavaca, particularly this side of the City. I was on my way to my schoolmate Neils Hinke's place, when I heard my neighbor calling my name. Him and his wife were a cool couple, they must have been on their late twenties back then, I remember I was just eleven. I don't remember his name but I do remember he was into cycles, I think he had a Kawasaki. He was also a Queen fan, I him and his wife found it strange that a kid my age liked the same music they did, like Baez, Joplin etc.
He had bought a new LP and wanted me to check it out, so I came inside.
His wife brought some cookies and coffee or something as he opened a drawer and proudly placed this new record on my hands, it was "Permanent Waves" by "Rush".
Who? I had never heard about them. He played it on a not so fancy record player, yet, their sound was so unique, while it was Progressive it was like nothing I had ever heard before. At that moment I became an instant fan, and remain until this day.
Betsy and I saw them for the very first time in 2004, on their R30 Tour at the White River Amphitheatre in Auburn. I had waited 23 years and it was well woth it.
As the lucky SOB I've always been, I now get to see them in May at The Gorge, on their Snakes and Arrows Tour, with Genie and her daughter Emily, and I can't wait.
I will be eleven again and remember how I went out and bought that record that very same day, years ago.
The cover art for Permanent Waves is also one of my all time favs. Gotta love a cotton-clad mons pubis Donna Reed amidst a chaotic flood, I mean, that panty peek-a-boo is heavenly yet Kafkian in an absurd and delicious way, just like Rush.

Lasagna Vaffanculo (anno Domini 2008)

Sometimes friends gather
in fellowship, in amnesty
in exile or in revolutionary
support full of activism
and sometimes they just gather to be
Saturday night they gathered again
some for the first time
welcomed, all
under the poster plastered semi vaulted ceilings
bringing back twisted nostalgia
of the urine smelly Sixteenth Chapel

Sophia and Lollobrigida in murals
a headless Pope Jean Paul II turned
and turned in a lazy Susan
as my friends came together
and after warm Chianti
convinced me to confess my true age

I thank them all for coming
and I remembered all of those
who couldn't be there
I raise my glass
and bow before gnocchi al telefono
for what little I know about life
I remember people like to hold people accountable
therefore you left me no choice
other than to proclaim myself
as truly, totally
and irremediably irresponsible
we are just here to remember.

39

As much as I have lived
which is far more than 39 years
as much as I've loved
which is far more than I can count

As many friends I have
they are very few
so I can love them all
yet it really all comes down to just one thing
Brazil

Everything I've written
is mostly bad
all the places I've been to
I can never wait to go back

All the rum and tequila
the spicy peppers
the rush of shrooms
the lounge high of Acapulco Golden
or a night at "El Baby"
are still no match

As much as I love that Eagle and that serpent
and the stars and stripes on my two birth flags
the one I've held with tears and sweat
is black and red
like my blood
like my heart
Por Sempre Mengao

For nothing, absolutely nothing
makes my blood boil
like "Samba de Enredo"
in the Boa Viagem Carnaval
at 2am

Dancing, groping, kissing
chasing, hiding, laughing
screaming and silently
and slowly melting
my hands on the cinnamon skin
drunk in the hazel eyes
of the ocean salt covered affairs
in the middle of the crowd

The percussion ensemble
is the Amazonic jungle roar
it's alive
it's an engine
in mathematical fuck rhythms

The classic Fla-Flu soccer match
at the Maracana
Vinicius and the girl from Ipanema
is more than heaven or hell could ever be
Therefore, when I die
all I want is Samba
and a wet, Maracuja laced kiss
Wherever I go, I will make a triumphant entry
dancing, one step at a time
39 so far
and Jesus, what a ride...

My Saison en Enfer

If I was a piece of paper
orphan napkin at the cafe
with a telephone number smeared on me
in your voyeuristic lipstick color

or lonely notebook page
enumerated, like an incomplete sentence
one of my silly poems from my stupid heart
in roller ball ink, to you

If not, then a newspaper airplane
but all curled up in a ball
wrinkled, thrown and kicked around on the cold linoleum
or flying on the dirty sidewalk
amongst cars and shoes and dog shit

But my destiny, I guess
is in the butcher's bloody garbage can
perhaps an Evangelist Republican
bible thumper and morose

But it could be worse
much worse
I could be picked up by some tree hugging
granola eating, Subaru driving, Birkenstock wearing
Seattleite lesbian hippie named Sally
only to be recycled into a Starbucks coffee cup

If I was a piece of paper
I'd much rather be a tissue
and die, drunk and drowning
in your Nile of tears

Next

Usually I would write a summary of the year that ended
and then the things I expected to happen on the new one
how naive, how selfish
and commonplace

I haven't lost weight
not that you care
and while I'm smoking much less
I still am
and I'm still the same

Some days I think about her and write about it
and then the things I expect from life
how true, how painful
and senseless

But then there are the days when it rains
when I'm alone
a rain that never ends
my decadently depressive deluge

There's someone knocking at the door
I know it's time to close the blinds
funny how I expect all this water
pouring from the heavens
to wash my sins away

I haven't changed my ways
not that you care
and while I'm smoking much less
I still am
and I'm still the same

Pink Polka Dots

I come home early in the morning
hunger and sleep distract me for a moment
and I go back to thinking
pink polka dots

It really doesn't matter what I'm doing
walking, painting, walking, writing...
I'm dreaming Pink Polka Dots

What has this World come to?
it has become one big pink bubble gum
it is lounge all my ears listen to
her voice, her lips
her thighs, like a ferris wheel

I'm lost in a psychedelic dream
marionberry flavored LSD
my obtuse obsession
until I see her and her legs again
wearing those almost painted boyshorts
covered with pink polka dots

My God, what have I done?
what door did I go through?
what card did I turn?
what lock did I open?
what Genie have I released?
such angel
such devil.

Strawberry Fields Forever (dedicated...)

Seattle, WA 12/18/2007

Early Seattle winter morning
It's me and I-5
rain and fog and graveyard shift
make my eyes begin to shut

My iPod shuffles Duran Duran
"Hungry Like the Wolf"
I light up another cig
(yes, I'm still smoking)
as I remember the time warp.
Sometimes music reminds us of our age
and I thought of a few friends
realizing how thinking of them
sometimes makes me feel even older
endless nostalgia
and the road ahead.

Friends whom are more than friends
individuals whose impact and presence in my life
has been nothing less than a gift from God
and if you don't believe in Him
just look at your friends

Friends like Christian whom I know since 3rd grade
and I hope one day everyone could hear him sing
or Christina Godinho
she knew Brazil would be a culture shock
and it was.
Gutty, who introduced me to Xaviera Hollander
and the girls who lived down the street
damn, I must have been 14
Arturo Monroy who was there for me always
and I wouldn't love him more if he was straight
Jorge Velez, who can make a rainy day, like today
be the best you've ever lived
then there's Tao Heras, you know him?
the main character of "The Incredible Adventures of Doctor Tao"
now that is a force to reckon with, a brother of war and peace
Grischa Alcaraz, if I had a twin....need I say more?
Wilson Martinez "La Hora De La Tos" I know you're North
carnal, I know you're North and you can't tell me
and I know you have a new name
Grillo, the sea wolf who taught me so much
see you in 2008, we shall throw a party like before.

But then, then there's the she iconoclast
my sister soul, my genesis and nemesis
deranged, genius and comrade
like saffron and paella
my Daliesque mirror is
this amazingly enlightened being
craziness that knows no match
with rebellious hair and wide open eyes
incredible talent and beauty
and a witty, razor blade mind.
You know how much I love you
but you don't know how much I admire you
and how much happiness you bring to my life
funny how your name rhymes with stubborn
I never told you this, Lauren
but sometimes I wish we could all gather together
as little kids, in a playground
if only once
and maybe one day
but not today
for today is yours and I declare it a holiday
happy birthday m'dear
and Strawberry Fields Forever

Flotsam and Jetsam

My hands are shaking
like a drop trembles on a leaf
I surrender to gravity and inertia
slipping on her soft and warm coat

Candle light reveals her thighs
I stare in sweet astonishment
as my hands hold her hips
and surf her skin

Drowning in sweet bitter peach elixirs
acidic like an opiate
as I breathe in the warmth
almost drunk
I see the cotton in pastels
and lose my mind

Woman,
morning star and planet
Venus surrounded in bright terracotta
in the crimson Washingtonian dawn
as Rainier bathes in primary sunbeams

Her kiss with coffee lips
argue with mine
my soul is thrown miles away
floating in the ocean lust
pearl necklace jam
vanilla ice cream and cherries maraschino
flotsam and jetsam
as we dive to the deepness of the sea

There really is nothing like her
on satin sheets
like a raindrop
on a leaf

Ayahuasca

Tepoztlan, Mexico Circa 1994

It was a rainy afternoon in Tepoztlan
I can't help but wonder and question
why is it that weird things happen
on rainy afternoons
at least most of the time
at least to me

She saw my future in the Ryder deck
death on my palms, like a vulture
she said a voodoo curse had been laid on me
and then it all made sense
for sometimes I felt the pins
sometimes the needles
and always the gloomy shade
like the cape of some obscure Transylvanian count

We drove up the mountain
in her old Volkswagen bus
her home, like a quartz in a rock
sits at the bottom of the Tepozteco hills
with its jagged edges
and its Pyramid atop

Her place is besides the portal
a natural doorway in the mountains
that is said to be an entry to another dimension
I've been here before, many times

Sunset happened fast
hand drums breathe
sandalwood incense paints the night
as we sit inside a circle of candles
their flames and tongues mark the boundaries
of the tarmac to my spiritual dream

She handed me what seemed to be a cup of tea
"drink" she said
I recall being stoned
when I drank the tea of South American vines
Ayahuasca

Her hands on my head
chants in tongues I do not speak
maybe Yaqui, maybe Tarahumara
an egg cleanse
then silence
and incense

I saw the stars twinkling in random chaos
like Beethoven, like your eyes when pleased
"whoosh" I felt and heard something fly beside me
"whoosh" again and again, like a bird of prey
touching my naked chest, head, face, eyes and ears with its wings
it was her, cleaning my spirit with a pair of quetzal feathers
as I began to elevate into the cosmic darkness

It felt like when you gravitate on LSD
but different
like coffee from an old pot, with a hint of cinnamon
drunken Daedalus, my soul lifted in full flight

It must have been late morning when I woke up
laying half naked on the wooden deck
looking at the edge of the mountain
the portal had closed
and my soul had been spared
I had been cleansed

I haven't seen her in many, many years
but she changed my life completely
now, in the mornings
when I see the sky on fiery red and pink and orange
I think of the portal
of this very special friend
and of the mountains of Amatlan
where Quetzalcoatl took his first steps
on golden sandals.

Ephemeris

That northern wind has began blowing
the nights are cold again
and soon, very soon
the snow will cover Snoqualmie

I feel the chill
running down my back
snowflake memories
melt on my hands

In the blue desert
of white covered tree tops
icy roads and dense fog
disolve two cobalt blue gems
like the unreachable Altair
Ephemeris can no longer guide me

Life, complicated as it is
was much simpler once
when everything depended on fate
but now, now I just want to hybernate my heart
and sleep towards a warming chicken broth death

Thanksgiving

The chaotic DNA that I am allows me to have my very own perception on what this holiday represents. While the idea of two cultures sharing a meal is such a great example of Christianity, History shows me those were the very first Indian Reservations. Yes, Native American is the correct term, but I just don't see anyone calling me Native Mexican. After all it was much more than just a real estate problem, it was genocide, of culture, knowledge, art and most importantly people. The exact same thing happened in Mexico and that is how Colonies became machines of massive killings and abuse. Would I have been invited to such event I honestly wouldn't have known where to sit. Nevertheless I have many things to be thankful for and that is why I will shut my mouth up with a Big Mac and the Black Friday Shopping.
"Hueyatlan tetecuica auh tlatoa totonametl in manic".

Pink

When the night falls
and all her colors undress
pink is the only one left
on special occasions it might be red
I'm a carnivore and I like my meat rare
but more than often, I think
the very last layer is pink

Pink is the one exclusively feminine color
her full, blushing cheeks
when I pin her between the fridge and the pantry
or when we lay down by the fireplace
and play hide and seek
and her laughter, her giggles
definitely pink

It tastes and smells like strawberries and creme
like bubble gum
or ethereal weekend love
Ambergris splashed with "I love you"
Tulips at Pike Place
on a cold misty day

Pink is her lipstick
kiss tattoo on my neck
or in the back of a Hallmark card
and that is why postman go insane

For many, pink is a Victoria's Secret shopping bag
while I prefer Torrid's hotpink boyshorts
and that is how the world revolves
around lace and racy lingerie
ponytails and bows
strawberry mousse
blonde hair, broken rainbows and big balloons

Farrokh Bulsara

Cuernavaca, Mexico Circa 1981

Sometimes, when I close my eyes and run my fingers through the duvet, I remember the feeling of the Persian rugs when I was a kid. They were my domain, the middle of the living room. I sat on them surrounded by mountains of Lego, listening to rock from the 70's. While this was something I did for years, this particular remembrance happened right after turning eleven.
Building spaceships with these incredible bricks and listening to Joplin, Baez, Santana and Hendrix is pretty much how I was brought up, day after day. One morning I went with my Mother to the bank, the post office and other errands. As always, we stopped by the "Viena" coffee shop, which was located across from the kiosk. They served a bad ass sachertorte and foamy cappuccinos. Then I stopped at the record store, from which my Mother had to frequently drag me out, in the middle of curses, satanic verses and temper tantrums. But this time, this time was different, for there was a new Queen album, Jazz. Which I bought, since I was, and still am a spoiled bratworst.
I've been a Queen fan for as long as I can remember, but this album particularly captured my senses, it is, in my opinion, their best. It opens with the loud Mustapha, Mercury's herculean voice sings it like only he could, Brian May colours it with incredibly timed riffs as Deacon and Taylor support it amazingly.
Later that evening, as I studied the cover art work and the stage photograph pictured in the middle of the album, I realized there was an insert, in the opposite sleeve. Ohhh, bonus! It was a pink colored poster, which unfolded, and then unfolded again into a full blown centerfold size poster of ...naked woman on bicycles, maybe a hundred of them. Ahhhh!!! I just had to take it to school the very next day.
For years it remained hidden under my bed, my older brothers, whom are quite square never knew about it.
Until this day and until the day I die I will forever be grateful to this Gay vocalist-semi-God who sent me a picture of naky girls when I was just a kid.
Freddie, wherever you are, I will forever love you.

"Left alone with big fat Fanny,
She was such a naughty nanny!
Hey big woman you made a bad boy out of me!"