May 31st, 2009 § 0
this is the spoken version of a poem i wrote on umx in september of 2007. the spoken version does not read all of the written, but that is because it felt complete at this point…the written one wanders elsewhere, but this felt like the right place to end it when i read it over a few times. ive been asked to read this one aloud, and it took me a couple years to do it, but here it is.
From the Nectarine Meat collection of poems. Soon I’ll post a download link to this album in its entirety.
May 26th, 2009 § 0
first written in november of 2008, this is the spoken version of sky lyric. there is a little glitch in the beginning, i’m aware of it. hope it doesn’t get in the way of appreciating what’s left.
From fever of peace.
May 25th, 2009 § 0
here’s the title piece for the album of spoken word tracks fever of peace. (original post here).
May 25th, 2009 § 2
this is the spoken version of a poem i wrote on umx in march of 2008. tell ya the truth, i listen to them and sort of want to do them all over! but they were supposed to be practice for the upcoming podcasts, that i can’t let my usual sense of perfectionism drag them into neverland. (especially cuz i have heard weirrrrd things about neverland).
i realize that my father has writing where i’m pretty sure he uses this line in a poem…but x is my generation and this xicano will take it from here. . .
From the Nectarine Meat collection of poems. Soon I’ll post a download link to this album in its entirety.
May 25th, 2009 § 0
if anyone downloaded that zipped album or any mp3s i had up, please redownload it. i have replaced those versions. i thought those had ID3 tags and such, but they didn’t these ones are properly filled out. if that matters to ya.
May 24th, 2009 § 0
winter…can be so long. this last winter was especially long.
many of these poems from the new “album” fever of peace were written to spark light, fire, heat to see me through the winter. here is one…an awakening.
May 24th, 2009 § 0
i’ve spent some time today recording some poetry that I’ve written over the last year. here is one called summer surrender.
May 23rd, 2009 § 2
odis has moved out.
it’s kind of weird. i find the absence of odis a little strange. offputting. unsettling. he was my first contact and friend in this joint. i mentioned him here, where i first moved in.
i came out of my apartment the other day to hear him talking with m—-, taking the last of his stuff out. couldn’t believe it. he’s been here six years. been here since the first day i moved in, i know that. always been cool. always ready with an extra cerveza, always willing to chill. came and went at some funny hours, but i don’t care about that.
i walk past his window feeling a bit strange now. i try not to look up. it’s just a little too empty, too silent there.
Odis talkin' about the flowers he planted over a year ago.
he planted a few bulbs under the soil, i’ve taken fotos of these flowers before last year or so.
i took this foto on the left just a week or two ago.
his story? odis came to eugene a number of years ago. recruited by nike, which essentially owns the town. he was an olympic athlete. this was the year, i guess or so the story is told, that the USSR swept the olympics aided by early use of steroids. nike didn’t want the big loss to reflect on them and their stock of athletes so they…dumped them all.
you almost felt meeting odis there had to be some kind of story behind his being here…not to be smallminded about it, but this area is…not particularly “diverse.” i mean…it is, actually. there are plenty of mexican enclaves, and native/indian communities and even reservations. but the area is hella segregated. and since i don’t live in the poorest part of town, around me are mostly white folks who really are convinced that wearing hemp, eating all organic food, and buying veggies at an outdoor market means they are fully enlightened. i don’t mean to be cruel. but race here is buried. and i guess that’s why living next to a black fella and an asian cat on the other side sort of helped me feel…buffered!
odis is a bit of a gambler. he always seemed to be able to make it work. lately, as the signs come up in store to store announcing price raise or vacancy, we’re all learning our money doesn’t go as far anymore. maybe he missed a bet, or couldn’t recoup in time. for the first time in six years. or maybe our landlady decided she was tired of odd hours, late comings and goings, blonde women in a truck with Odis, who stands out in this neighborhood as it is. i loved looking out the window and seeing him and his little rowdy clusters of friends at night, idling, waiting to take off somewhere into the evening. maybe that bothers some…i like to feel there is life around me….
from what i hear he was late on rent and the landlady gave him “til monday” to work it out. he packed up and left. dont know if he’s still workin down the road at the gas station, i’ll have to drop by and see.
six years! not even a full month late. that’s all you get in this world, i guess, even if you pay rent on a place for six years. nothing to show at the end of it except some free newspapers that pile up in front of your door. memories of vegas, and being an olympic competitor.
i don’t mean to get overlydramatic. it’s not like he died. it’s not like we were close friends, but i felt comfortable with him living next to me, as i said. we let things be. we knew how to live nearby someone. the rest of the complex is nearly strangers. everyone keeps to themselves. nobody else starts conversation, most don’t look at you.
ah well. i know this post is jumbled. not sure its even warranted. i can probably find odis hangin around A—–’a, playin the machines, you know.
and yet. i feel his leaving here is a sign of something. dont know what, tho. i guess that’s why i’m writing this.
——
