Tuesday, December 6, 2011


Unceremoniously, I step over the body…
My body.
I stare down into my eyes, lacking any expression,
Void of interest…of anything. 
Delivered by the rain, this gritty gift,
Forcing inner existence…
Doesn't get any easier,
As I step over another body,
This one my one, sin piernas.
A body sin alma, struggling to find my way
Anywhere.

The rain brings no more than ripples,
giving my face undeserved and disgusting
Peaks and valleys, remincient of 
Heaps of litter, who's constant ebbs
And flows keep all decency at a distance.

I put my knee on the cement,
Immediately the damp reaches my skin,
I stare into my eyes and listen to the drips,
Not only does inspiration escape me, but a 
Desire to live has gone the way of my rounds
Through the barrel and into the flesh of another,
Taking them with me, deeper and deeper.
Bodies everywhere, all mine, all parts of me…
A desperate search for the body where I truly rest,
Eternally.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Otra Poema Sobre La Lluvia


My knee rests in
The ever growing puddle. 
From behind me I hear
The solders descending the valley
Into my canopied labyrinth.
From above,
Gotas de agua dulce try
And penetrate my position through my umbrella
Of leaves and twigs.

My M1 still works when wet,
But she shows her age as
The moisture makes her moody
And unpredictable. 
It's best to stay buried
Behind my wall of violent
Explosions of water
On Nature's green drum.

I'd like to see Dr. Goodall,
Live amongst us.
Could she help us communicate?
Maybe,
This endless barage of bullets,
Bigotry, and blood can give
Heed to the strength 
Of the innocence and purity,
Cleaned away by la lluvia.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Why Write?!


Me quemo por dentro
Adentro de me cuerpo
Todos de mis organos
Estan derritiendo
Cuando ven tus cinturas
Moviendo, expresando tu personalidad

Con el ritmo de la musica
Estoy perdiendo
Alla…aca…alla…aca
Siempre buscando tu ritmo
Me digo que es suerte
Bailar contigo

Eres mi vino
El liquido que quiero
Tomo con passion
Tiene el sabor que no puedo desfrutar
Como el vino
Sus aƱos me asuste, justamente

La vida, simplemente
Es un sucesion acontecimientos
Estoy agradezco de conocer alguien
Estoy suerte que conocer a ella
Y tu me soportas
Como me puedo decir gracias
Porque pienso en ti






Why do you make me want to write my feelings? You bastardo!


Random factoid: I love Spanish!


La Cultura Cura


Sunday, September 4, 2011

Me Quemo Por Dentro

Music, What a special lady

Thanks to NPR and their blog Alt.Latino (http://www.npr.org/series/alt-latino/), I have been discovering some amazing and exciting new Spanish, the language, music. It all started with Bomba Estereo, who's video I will include in this blog. They use beats and traditional musical instruments, guitars and the like, along with electronic influences, and a interesting vocal styles to create a unique a beautiful sound, that I'm learning is quite Colombian. This is perfectly timed, as I have tickets to Revolcion Rokkera (http://revolucionrokkera.com/) here in Salinas for this upcoming Saturday, Sep. 10th. While I don't know much about the bands I'm going to see, the concert will give me a chance to dive deeper into the latino musical scene.

I am loving the use of modern musical techonolgies while harping in our cultural traditions, such as electronica meeting salsa or cumba, or even tango like with the band Otros Aires. Much like Bomba Estereo, Systema Solar is a colombian band bringing a modern dance feel to older more traditional dance beats and rhtyms, through the gengre jumping and history within modern songs I am able to discover a vast time span of latino music with just a few albums.

Other bands on my radar are: Miguel Campello, a voice so haunting it'll put hair on your chest and ten make you cry so your tears fall on your now hairy chest (which can be wierd for our lady readers), Rita Indiana y Los Misterios, who fall into dancey rythms like Bomba's, Natalia y Maka, who are like the Meg and Dia of latin america...among others...I also really like what I've heard from DJ Gekko Jones.

Random Factoid: I hate Lane Kiffin, USC looked so one dimensional yesterday, I'm suprised they actually managed to win.

La Cultura Cura

Sunday, August 28, 2011

You! Me! Dancing!


Before one can dance, one must find the rhythm...

I've been in Salinas for 10 days now. And. I'm. Loving. It!

I made the trip with my father and we arrived at my apartment, which is much bigger I expected. As we are located on the 2nd floor, I've got super high ceilings. My room is great, rommate is cool, and I'm loving working in the after school program...finally, finalizing my sub stuff.

I am already part of the Salinas family, without even trying, I've done more social gatherings, in more places, than I did all year in Claremont. All of my friends are mexican, and they have deemed my Spanish strong enough to use Spanish to their hearts content around me....that being said, I'm getting plenty of great practice with the official language here, Spanglish. Film festivals, amazing mexican dance clubs...I love it. I feel at home, out of my comfert bubble.

I had my CalStateTEACH orientation yesterday and I start doing work for it tomorrow. Unlike my USC program, there are not live classroom discussions online, but just a very well organized website that organizes a decent work load. I do have to say that I prefer the CST website to the USC website....I'll have more to say once I really find my routine.

Random factoid: Currently loving Damages on Netflix!!!!!

La cultura cura

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Stranger On A Foriegn Shore


“And you can’t even begin to believe

There’s so many bridges engulfed in flames behind me” –Ben Gibbard


Once again, the train of thoughts in circling the lining of my skull must make a pit stop and drop another entry of the random babblings that is my blog. The splatter of word vomit on the page, distributing matches the pattern of word vomit issuing from my mouth these days.


Confucius say!: Why use the end to start? (All quotes resembling persons live or dead are unintended and incidental)


Ode To The Futbol Jersey


Ode to that guy in the soccer jersey

Brightly colored

Escudo, living a distant land…not his land

Jersey not just worn, protected.


The jersey acts as a second skin,

The jersey lives on an island, feed by fish

The skyscrapers in the distance do not represent dreams

They represent distance, not progress, distance.


Distance from all that is

Humanity derived from a stubborn land

A lifestyle fading away into existence

All’s fare in jersey


The dirt accumulates as the day’s chores pass

Not a look, nor any appearance of glamour.

Days upon days, continue,

As the jersey remains bonded to its master.


If cloth hits dirt,

Foreign fingers find, fishing fresh

Clothes, to protect against the world, their chores

Water brings life, to the man…and his jersey.


Random factoid: Bach's cello suite #1 touches me on a deep level.


La Cultura Cura

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Hasta Suena La Campana


To The Beat of the Creole (Al Compas Del Criollismo p. 13)


Conserve the tradition

Always the same suffering

Is the life in the gutter

And to die of starvation

To the beat of the Creole


Old, enclosed, neighborhoods,

Barrios Altos, Chirimoyo;

Limas most Creole,

The most select in Peru.

From your solemn past

And with clear inspiration

You impose a mission

That you give, no longer sell

And can only pretend to

Conserve the tradition.


In the sixteenth century

You drained your purse

Commending the Spanish,

Slave to every viceroy.

Passed the time, it was the law

Forged in your heroism:

Century and a half of civic-mindedness

Your children sing and write,

And fix, how they live,

Always the same suffering.


Poor neighborhoods, always lacking,

Neighborhoods crying out for justice

For the paradox they call

Barrios Altos…barrios “Altos”…

Rise up, get to work,

Look what happens in Ancon

And you will see your inspration

Stained of “whiskey and soda”

While all of your life

Is the life of the gutter.


They are the court of a king

Worse than Philip II,

The world is just a dollar

And exploitation is law.

Enslaving the flock

Hiding in your song.

More if you sing of rebellion

Well, you can –so close-

Becomea Felipe Pinglo Alva

To die of starvation.


Barrios Altos of misery

With a tradition of creating orphans,

Salt of your begging

And show your serious face.

Who gives you the Iberian “gentlemanhood?”

Who gives you imperialism?

Come with me, right now,

And Our Revolution

Builds a new nation

To the beat of the Creole?...


In honor of Peru's fiestas patrias, I have poorly translated another poem de Nicomedes Santa Cruz. A poem of strength in the face of poverty and racism.


This poem puts many ideas into words, thoughts I have thought and embodies many of the reasons why I am so attracted to Salinas and Peru. Both areas are poor and struggle finding a stronghold of mondern ideas of success without losing their tradition. Both provide a community, a flare for life, and a type of person I have not found anywhere else. Hence, my desire to live in both places.


I just returned from a information gathering trip to Salinas...what I learned is that I will be living with a fellow teacher in a 2 bed room apt, and thankfully, he is doing the looking since I still have to coach at the gym for two more weeks, I have an appointment to finalize everything for setting me up to work at Alisal on the 18th of august, and hopefully when I drive up for that appointment, I will also be moving. As for work, my former vice principal, from my first year in AmeriCorps, has been appointed principal at another school in the district has offered me a job in the after school program, and I will be using my connections at FP to get days subbing as well....siento correcto, todos los pedasos de la rompecabaeza estan cayando en su propia lugar.


Random factoid: I ate the 3 best meals of my life while in Salinas, technically I ate them in Chular.


La Cultura Cura