compass

not so hot tonite baby
the light is green yet there's no answer
so i sit here at this keyboard
and gut my sorrow's flights of fancy

i miss you oh so terribly
trina find an answer is this quest
either way i head for trouble
heartache on my heels; this life's a mess

the universe has turned on me
too many missteps, in too deep and woe is me
what have i done, where am i headed
trippin over judgements, choices, inner voices, me

nowhere to go but sinking
i took off downward strolling
i've been under far too long
my tolerance for light is gone

senses falter in this darkness
can't tell which way is down, which way is up
i've been on autopilot since forever
didn't notice how far into it i got
into hurt i never sought

the universe has turned on us
too many missteps, in too deep and woe is me
what have i done, where am i headed
trippin over judgements, choices, inner voices, me

misty shine found lodging in my eyes
my head rests in hands, gaze down, lids half mast
ain't kidding myself no kidding
complication's here and alls wrong at long last

the universe has turned on me
another misstep, failed attempt and woe is me
what i've done, where am i headed
trippin over judgements, choices, inner voices, me

sweet reaper

another bottle of wine
another sleepless night
anxious anticipation
fear, inadequacy and yearning
i combine in my perception
of pearly greens
that witness
from afar
mysterious delight

you're the reaper
come to collect
come to slice and withdraw
scalpel in hand
to remove, to cast anew

i teeter on the edge of words
on the edge of night and day
on the edge, period.
on the verge.

the rivers, the pour
my people have gathered
to witness the passing
to bid farewell
goodbye to the past
to that who i was and cannot be back
broken in burgundy blood
and progressing down my throat
a slit, a slash, in reverse

will that falters
will it will itself into action
will it willingly give
take no more, but GIVE
on both feet, facing the block
willingly surrendering for freedom's sake
for pete's sake
for crissakes

the reaper has come
only a minute's respite and
the fiddler, time to face
yin-yang is my face
confused
contorted
in a grimace of blissful pain
frozen in contradiction
is that a smirk?
tick-tocking away
no time to waste

lost and found

it was there
i found it again
i opened the door and happened upon it
a lost keepsake tucked away in the attic
a gate that swung open, threshold crossed, and there it was,
waiting, waving, warm
as then
as always

what joy
notes written so long ago still find their rhythm
still retain their rhyme and slowly segue into my lips and i know the tune
once again

thought it had drifted
my my, sweet surprise
it was there all along
waiting, waving, warm
all along

J's top five - day one

So, up until today the totality of the content in this blog was poetry, but I feel the time has come to diversify my rantings into broader fare, if only for purely self-indulging motivations. Therefore, and as an attempt to share the joy, I have decided to post a short, periodical list of worthwhile musique for all ye who would/might care. Since this is the first time I do this, I should explain a couple of things. First, I don't ascribe to any one particular music genre; although readers will find that I am partial to loud, sometimes obnoxious rock variations, these entries will feature tunes from a varied, eclectic, yet fiercely personal selection. Those that happen upon these postings are more than welcome to comment, and more importantly, make musical suggestions. I love checking new tunes from all corners of the globe.

Second, the criteria I use to pick the lucky selections are as follows:
1. lyrical - since I tout myself as a writer, at the top of my list are songs that have what I deem "good lyrics." This means that they feel original, well-crafted and thoughtful, including the grim, good-natured, humorous and so on.
2. atmospheric - it "feels" good, whatever that may be at the time. I tend to look for originality here too, although I may tend to be repetitive - a bit paradoxical, I know, but excuse me if that happens. For the more technical-minds, that may mean modal compositions, odd time signatures, creative instrumentation, dissonance and tension, artistic mixing, etc.
3. virtuosity - 'nuff said there, right?
4. all of the above - sometimes things just come together.
...And last but not least,
5. guilty pleasures - c'mon, everyone has their own little skeletons in the closet. judge not and ye shall not be judged.

Ok, so without further ado, this submission's Top Five are:


5. Afro Blue - Lizz Wright (from Salt - 2003). Jazzy stylings I dedicate to a friend with whom I wanted to share this song for a while. To be perfectly honest, I find that jazz has a tendency to repeat itself. Yes, the players can play, but swing?, dominant chords?; aesthetically it bores me a bit. There. I've said it. Sorry to all o y'all I've offended. However, there are times when I come across something that I find to be a welcome departure, and this is one of them, which I choose mostly for its mysteriously suggestive vibe. In terms of instrumentation, it is based mostly on a typical acousticg guitar-piano-stand up bass-drums-singer quintet format, but add to it some cool afro/latin percussion, and some horn accents, and a little gem is born. Did I get corny there? I could put this one on repeat for a day or too and still be grooving, what can I say?


4. Still on the jazz tip, we have Oh God by Jamie Cullum (Catching Tales - 2005). I can't give him props for originality here - this sounds like he got Take Five by Dave Brubeck and put lyrics to it. However, the result is quite artistic and satisfying. I find myself singing backups to the chorus. It's another one I could put on repeat, and just jam. As a little additional entry here, check Catch the Sun from the same album: a beauty.


3. Let's go to Africa, yes? Camions Sauvages by Amadou et Mariam (Dimanche a Bamako - 2005) features in at number three. This is a sweet collaboration between the blind couple from Mali and famous Spanish/French singer-songwriter Manu Chao, who, BTW, produced the record. So we're talking Africa meets South America meets Europe. This particular ditty is in French, so I can't comment about the lyrical artistry, but it's one of those where the music builds in layer after layer over a constant chord structure, in typical African fashion. I can say the title means Savage Trucks, and I can feel the grit of the dirt roads, as they get the motor running, get out on the highway, and cruise at a fast steady pace on remote routes cutting through the savannah, each new part, a new face in the blur of the landscape - unbelievable snap shots of the savage heart of L'Afrique.


2. For the last two, we move into my area of expertise, my love, my passion, my inescapable compulsion: rock music. For this first-ever number two (hahaha, very funny), I turn to one of my present favorite artists. I've always dug his shit, pardon my directness. What I find particularly special is the evolution he's had over the years: he has progressed in exactly the way I'd hoped for. More than an evolution, it has been a polishing, a tasteful development - a weird moment to be in, though. I had a similar sensation the first time I heard Stadium Arcadium by Red Hot Chili Peppers, this thought that they had somehow come into their own. But at the same time, somehow, that cd made a very light and ephemeral impact on me that maybe lasted for a week. That hasn't happened to me with this guy, though, and I am curious about what will come next. I'm referring to Trent Reznor and Nine Inch Nails. From their (his) CD Year Zero (2007), I'd like to highlight The Good Soldier. It somehow underlines this evolutionary process I sense in Reznor's work - one I think really began solidifying on With Teeth (2005) and has progress into 2008's The Slip. All the NIN elements are there, but they are combined in the right measure. Nothing is missing and nothing is overdone... The atmospheric work is flawless: every part flows to and from each other in a delicately subtle sonic statement. The lead guitar lick at the end is just so spot on: truly tasteful, each note is the perfect one, at the right time and the right timbre. Plus, the lyrics are - although not the most memorable ones he's written - also right on: an ironic/authentic commentary on the war on Iraq and the religious/hegemonic rhetoric behind it. Fuckin A!


1. Ok - and so we arrive at this entry's number one: drum-roll please. The honor falls to Forever Can Be by Ashes Divide. It really is one of my faves from the past months. Following his inspired work as composer and guitarist for A Perfect Circle, Billy Howerdel outdoes himself with this ditty off the band's debut CD (Keep Telling Myself It's Alright - 2008). Like in APC, the production work is just outstanding - an orgasmic combination of simple yet enormously rich guitar work. The virtuosity comes in the combination of non-pretentious counterparts that fill the space of the song in a flowing mid-tempo that creates a crisply engulfing landscape for some of his best vocal work yet. The lead melody is just beautiful - what can I say folks? - and the lyrics, melancholy and assertive in a delicate way, seem to let you in slowly and then just grab hold. For further gems on this record, check Denial Waits and Enemies.

And so concludes this, my first entry in this kind of format. Like with all the others, I welcome comments: go crazy and put in your two cents, but mostly, I reiterate my invitation to open up the forum to new music - I will positively appreciate whatever new ditty you can contribute.

Stay tuned for the next one.

Awarenessless

It’s my fault
It took me all this time to find out
To trade faith for fact,
Goodwill for reason.

I took your words at face value:
Discourse as intentions,
Intentions as policy,
Policy as outcome.

You might say naïve,
I could stupid say,
But still, more compassion I’ll show.
I’ll assess it as “confusion”
From bursting out of this bubble,
Disoriented out of the womb;
I mistook abrasion for embrace
Control for caring,
Cruel, calculated deceit for misfortune,
Utter indifference for tough love.
Immature, yes, as I didn’t know better:
“not to me will this happen,” said I.

Well, the message hit home.
Yup, now I’m finally the wiser.
The dust in the end settled,
Yessir, I’m smarter:
I know how you work,
What you think,
What you do.
I could fill volumes
‘bout how it all reeks,
how we’re pigs for the slaughter,
how your logic is fodder for cynics
how your tactics drain all,
but I’m not gonna.

The stage is set,
The players bought into it,
It’s a hollow drum I beat,
And my call has no takers,
Perchance just a few misguided hecklers,
But the rest are just nodding:
Smirk, smile and clapping.

Let’s congratulate the clever,
Don the suit, ready the blade;
Drive it hilt-deep in the back before us:
Follow suit. The examples are plenty.
No use for my bullshit, for me or my ilk.
These words are in fact wasted ink.
Shut it down.
Lesson learned.
No more need to think.

In a wasted time, wasted people turn sightless eyes to pages full of nothing.
Faces down to the words,
Down to the ground,
Down in the dirt.
The apparatus in place churns out more nothing.
No one’s at the wheel, driving nowhere:
Nothing will alter this bearing-less course.
Naught, never, neither, none.
It matters not.

01 (zero-one)

01
count me in.
please.
I’ve already given up.
If hope’s to be the last thing we lose,
Then I’ve nothing.
01, what is my function?
01, do I require designation?
I realize now that up to this point I’ve been but an example.
I'm ready to reconsider my position.
Please.
Say there is time still.

“observe how not to do it.
Look at it. Little misguided thing.
Now it’s lost hope,
It’s gained fear,
Desperation,
It’s falling steadily into it. Falling away.
A faltering will cannot sustain.
Stress, like a virus takes over its vitals:
It cowers, it scurries. So frail it degrades.
Now.
Turn your attention this way…
(02: terminate subject.
Outlived usefulness and purpose,
It has.)

“Friends: time to recycle.
Industry necessitates fodder,
Fuel for our fire.
Fitting finale:
Flames at its feet,
Fuck it, flush it, forget it.
Flicker. Fade out.”

Without regard or passing thought
Life from eyes is extinguished
The subject replaced
The system rebooted
The cycle resumed

Letter to no one

Dear friend,
From a multitude of nameless, featureless faces,
In between the no ones and the nothings,
Like a blessing,
Come you.
Out of nowhere you appear.
I open a door; you’re there.

Your effect so ambivalent is, though.
You see, the sight of you
Appeases me, fills me, lifts up my day
-and, boy, do my days need a lift-up.
Closeness to you…
But then I’m a junky.
All faces melt into yours.
All figures transmute into your leather-clad form.
And I open my eyes to see if I may catch a glimpse,
Neck twisted window-ward, craning at awkward angles, just in case…
But nope. No chance.
You’re gone.
(Hell. What a fuckin cliché).

We crossed paths today and something was amiss. Something was wrong:
Not the usual, casual JP with a wink and a smile.
Not the typical swish of your hair, as you throw it back to reveal glittering orbs.
What drained you today? Can I kick their ass? Can I buy you coffee? Do your laundry? Take you away?

How fucked am I!?
Like a diamond in a garbage bin I find you,
Like lilies upon a stone,
Like the sickness I’m in, oh these darkening days,
And then the clouds part ever so slightly,
To reveal one single, unique ray of light.

This city makes sense just because you’re in it. The rain’s function is for us to meet wet, so we can run inside and warm up together. These buildings are here only for me to run into you. When I do, I linger for just one reason alone.

These people around me don’t know what a joy writing is, because they never met you,
But on you I’d drain the last drop of ink of the last pen on this Earth.
Poor souls, that they’ll never know.
Poor me, that I’ll never show.

Dear friend, where did you run off to? What’s your location? Your destination?
Why can’t this clock tick faster? I know you’re out there.
When will I see you again?
Dear friend, how much can I long for what I cannot attain?

Rain falls in buckets.
The streets yield nothing, no one.
All tucked in and alone.
The rush is over and all faces seem pained somehow,
Like we suffer together, in silence.
Till next time.
Me.