An Epitaph for A Love Affair

How does one fix a musician's mind?

You send him to the hospital

To make him think someone never loved him,

And then you shove pills down his throat.

And during all this time,

You restrict his freedom,

Remove his sense of insanity.

Except all a psychiatrist hears are barriers to be broken,

Problems to be solved, people to move through the assembly line.

I see her picture in my mind,

This woman who I thank constantly for having met,

I take pills in order to forget

That she ever loved me and that she was trying to help me.

Though I never let her into my space.

You have to learn how to channel the music through your head

And onto the screen.

When it wins her heart she will be here waiting.

All this time she's been waiting for me,

Though she's not a waitress anymore...

When I listen to your music

I reminisce of what my friends and I used to do.

We weren't ex-friends and some have long since passed away.

When I read what she writes I'm on a rush of adrenaline,

And I want to remain forever in this psychotic state.

But enough of this dangerous pastime!

In the distance there's a female's voice who you're in love with,

Attraction is so powerful that few personalities like hers compare.

"The Demander." - a poem

I'm calling because my father told me to
There is a charge on his credit card
Can you refund the money?
I'm sorry we don't have the credit card on file
I no longer have the credit card
It's been destroyed...
I did not authorize payment
So don't charge me without my consent,
Because I don't have have any money...
But you agreed to the policy
The reason we charged you was because it made things easier.
It's so that you don't have to enter the information twice
If you want
I can cancel your membership
And you'll be refunded...
Please delete my profile
I don't have the credit card information
I destroyed the card because an unauthorized charge was made to the account
I only have the last four digits.
Father,
I don't like your attitude
And your fiscal policies
Do not withdraw from my bank account
It is not yours.
Sorry
I didn't mean to say that
I know you are just trying to help me
You can have access to my bank account
I will miss you when I move away.

"El Piano" ~~ Una poema en Español

Soy perdido sin el piano,
Pero soy serio por del piano,
Quiero ser como feliz tan el piano,
Se extraño viendo la cara del piano,
Si puedo besar tus labios que debo tocarlo sobre el piano,
Oyo una pieza que estoy tocando sobre el piano,
No lo fue perfecto pero lo fue música del piano.
Quiero aprender cómo tocarlo mejor por el piano,
Cuándo muero, el cual quiero mis composiciónes estar oidos porque del piano,
A veces estoy componiendo en mi cerebro por del piano,
No lo he olvidado usualmente, pero mi vida es por del piano,
¡No hagas salir con él sin que primero escuchando al piano!
La musica de tu voz es no como importante tan el voz del piano,
¿Por qué estás ir a?  ¿Porque del piano?
Estoy día de soñar de tí sentando sobre el piano,
Estás pensando por de mí y estoy componiendo no por del piano.
Salimos éste lugar y vamos a mi cuarto así puedes oirlo háblame.
¡Acaba de recordar la música y olvida donde estés que ames el piano!

"Father's home."

Sitting on a piano bench feeling the keys at my father's home,
I play some romantic pieces for my ears only,
I begin to improvise some tune on a distant memory,
A distant memory that none have seemed as dismal.
Something about the air is right, the light just the right dim,
The bass plays in the left hand, and the violins in the right,
But they are the sound of voices, and if you heard them before,
They might ring a bell.
Somethings are slightly amiss, while others happen just right.
I can hear the steady footsteps of father,
I continue to play uninterrupted and luckily--
Last night I dreamed of an alien fetus--gosh I hate nightmares!
And I woke up and my eyes moved as if by an invisible force
From the paintings on the wall and I noticed a shadowy alien,
That wasn't an alien, but it looked as if it was painted onto the painting.
Then I slowly realized, God's image is in all works of art.
I hesitated to go back to sleep, today I couldn't find any aliens inscribed in paintings,
And I've tried to recreate the exact conditions to no avail.
Sometime's passed, I've returned to the present and my memory has faded,
For the last four years my standards have been lowered,
The love of my life has remarried.
Alas, I have a recurring flashback in my mind:
I see a new figure right in front of me.
It was of the time I first met her!
And I am as suddenly as I am scarily returned.

Persona poem, "Grandfather"

The yard could use a mow,
It's not raining.
The day looks less gloomy than before.
My son is seemingly happy,
Sometimes I feel worthless like no one really loves me.
That rabbit is again eating the vegetables,
Must I grab the rifle and shoot it?
Why is my son and grandson so lazy and so cold?
It's as if this country has affected them so.
They expect me to cook for them again.
I will make crispy tacos with sour creme.
My grandson can't eat his father's portion.
There's a soccer game going on,
I best go upstairs and watch it by my lonesome self.

I hope to return to Mexico and see my family again.

Hallucinatory poetry, "Condensed."

There's a mad scientist out there,

And he wants to create a love potion.

We bystanders wonder, 

What it would be like to not have the world to ourselves.

We tell him it ethically shouldn't be done.

And though he's duly popular, married, and in love,

He swallows poison and dies.

Hallucinatory poetry "The Wind"

When walking through campus,


The wind brushes against my face,


Making my hair strands curl.


Though another said it's whispering,


The wind’s like a blizzard of warm air outside.


With my earphones on,


If you look very closely,


There's an archway above my eyes.


My eyebrows are like a kelp forest.


Though my nose is small,


I wish I could smell something clearly…






In my memories I reminisce,


Though my eyes are brown as Florida sand,


So are the woman's who’s long gone in her Utopia,


Because I was mad, mad…






In the back of my mind,


There’s a lady who’s not a figment of my imagination,


And at the café, on my tablet,


There’s a picture of a nebulae with some stars behind it,


I wonder, sometimes,


Would she see me as her equal?


That maybe I wasn’t her type,


Maybe I wasn’t her type.

How I compose a piece of music

How I compose a piece of music: 1) listen to what you hear inside your head, 2) anything else isn't music, 3) find inspiration, 4) don't listen to what others say about you if it's negative, 5) find some kind of method to shield yourself from your own music if you find that you can't get that tune out of your head, 6) never lose faith in yourself, 7) listen or read what the great composers before you have done/said/experienced, 8) you are your own person/entity/unique individual, everything you write will reflect that, 9) once you've found your inspiration, the longevity of the piece will last as long as you listen to it, 11) don't give one ounce of care to whether anyone dislikes/likes/or doesn't care about your composition.

The Orchestral work.

I'm being true to what I hear inside my head.
But at the moment, I can't seem to make it go anywhere.
It just get's worse and worse as I progress.
And if I replay it from the beginning I'm already sick of it.
Especially towards the end,
Which is where it's supposed to have some kind of romantic melody.
It doesn't sound like it's coming from me.
It's coming from random pretty patterns I see on the screen with no musical depth.
Perhaps I need to sleep on it before I can come up with a memorable melody.
And maybe it needs to last shorter than twenty minutes.
I'm starting to mix up the pop music I hear on the radio.
Is that remaining true to myself?
I'm not sure,
If I borrow other melodies from other composers it's not like it hasn't been done before.
I just don't want to be reproducing exactly what I've heard before by accident.

I have to keep asking myself:
What is it saying?
What feelings am I trying to evoke?
Are there superfluous fluff I'm adding onto it?
If so, delete the notes right away.    

The American

There I sat on the chair in front of the table

Sipping my diet coke.

She was using the cash register
It was nighttime and the bar was filled with people,

I was sitting next to my dad 

We were talking about philosophy.
As soon as the waitress came over,

I was asking something but I cannot remember it now.

She looked at me

As if to say,

You can talk to me anytime you wish.
She has many men who talk with her,
And my thoughts played tricks on me,
What a mirage is to your sight.
She had a grin on her whitish face.
I tried to get closer,
But it was to no avail.
There I sat on the stool in front of the bar
My mind was cool though uncollected.
It was impossible to look
Because she was hidden behind a pillar

But I caught a glimpse.

My dad and I talked with her often,

But I found out from the cook,

She was engaged and left to Chicago.

I returned to the bar in the future,

The glimpse is fading,
I want to hear her again.

Coping

How are you coping?
What is bothering you?
What is the biggest regret you ever had?
What is the biggest happy moment you ever had?
How many boyfriends have you had?
Are you a lesbian?
Do you speak your nation's language?
Are you bi-lingual?
Do you love to read books?
Do you like my poetry?

there is something uncannily hidden from view,
None of us can make it out.
it is warmer than average in the middle of winter.
There's a glass mostly empty and a mug full of tea.
I'm too lazy to reach over and grab it.
It's just the right temperature, too.

What are your interests?
Tell me who you are in a single sentence.
Do you like big crowds?
Do you like to sing?
Where do you exercise?
What keeps you going
And interested in school?
Do you like the fact
That I love your nation's music?
Your name sounds so... Russian.
Do you think I should stick to ABAB format?

You don't think you're unknown to yourself do you?
I can't make it out whether you hate me or love me.
I'm on a computer that has a big screen.
There's a coke bottle it's half full and my wallet's on the table.
I thought somebody might steal my money
but I left and returned it was still there.

Sitting at a cafe. Thinking about the end of Time.

Where's the Marxists,
The real communists when you need them?!
Where are you fighters for worker's rights,
Fighters for unions,
Where's the fighters for women's rights?
They've all been crushed.
They're all silent.
Their dreams have become nightmares.

It's gone.
It's over.
I'm a walking automaton.

"The West"

In the 1920s, gender politics in Europe continued to change following the transitions of the 1910s. During WWI, many European women had had their traditional roles abruptly changed because it became necessary for them to work in order to provide essentials for the men who were serving in the military and for their families. For this reason, in the second decade of the century, the feminist idea that women deserve equal pay and a greater say in the realm of politics (the right to vote) had become very popular.

In the 1920’s, however, European women’s roles changed little and in some countries became more limited. While socially in the 1920s European women were looked on in art, film, fashion, as more akin to men, economically, women’s income compared to men’s was still significantly lower and in some countries (such as Nazi Germany) educational reforms were rolled back for women. This was because many traditionalists were offended by the social changes that challenged their world views, and many thus voted conservative party leaders to counteract this trend (this happened in Italy and, later, in Germany). So countries like “France, Belgium, Italy, and Spain” outlawed contraceptives (pg. 832). In the United States and Britain, however, women were able to achieve greater education and the use of contraceptives was not outlawed. Also, the new policy of Eugenics among nations confirmed or dis-confirmed the already standing dislike of persons different from one another depending on “class” and “race” factors (pg. 832). Eugenics encouraged or discouraged women from producing children.

Regardless, overall, society changed, though more slowly, in favor of women’s independence. For instance, in the 1920s European women were able to practice “family limitation” in countries (such as England and the United States), which allowed for the improvement of standards of living for women (pg. 831). One of the unique countries that was able to legalize divorce and civil marriages was Russia, after the Bolshevik revolution took place. Also, a fundamental change in women’s roles took place, solely in Russia, and that was the removal of household chores for women by providing “child care centers, laundries, and dining rooms” for working mothers (a practice common in France to this day). It was the growing awareness of women’s conditions in the sense that they were previously expected to only bear children and perform simple tasks in the home that led to these comparatively abrupt changes.

In the 1920’s in terms of the reconstruction of national politics, many European nations underwent tremendous, revolutionary change while others went to the brink of upheaval. In Russia, the Bolshevik revolution took place, which wasn’t really a Marxist revolution; it was Lenin’s belief that an authoritarian rule of the proletariat was needed because workers would otherwise be unable to fight for their own rights, as had been predicted by Karl Marx. Germany, which had undergone a civil war right after World War I, had a shaky political foundation for its Weimar Republic, and regrettably the politics of Germany gradually shifted to the extreme right. The Treaty of Versailles further weakened the Weimar Republic due to the fact that Germany had to pay reparations, which led to widespread discontent at home. This problem wasn’t addressed until 1924 by the Dawes Plan, but hyperinflation never was solved. On February 24, 1924, the Beer Hall Putsch (led by Hitler), whose sole purpose was the overthrow of the waning Weimar Republic, failed miserably (pg. 829). Unfortunately for Germany and for Europe, Hitler’s punishment was trivial, the trial was public, and the publication of his book led to further promulgation of Hitler’s view on Jews as enemies of the state and of democracy as a failed institution. In Eastern Europe, with the exception of Czechoslovakia, all the democracies that had been set up earlier had turned into authoritarian governments (pg. 825). Europe was once again sent into a state of bleak hopelessness.