Amsterdam Cantos (y poemas pistos)

              

                          views from xicano realization 
                          as fertilization
                          leads to libation
                             sans liberation,
                          canto y grito mi dementacíon,
                               avec moi, esos, 
                          mientras cocodrilo pizza sueños 
                          agglutinate mis jornadas ...
                            Amsterdam & other locales 
                          en europa fantasias ...
                             poem of travel from 13 Sept. to 
                          20 Sept., 1978, cantina/hotel
                            next to Meditatiecentrum De Kosmo 
                          Prins Hendrikkade 142, A'DAM  

                          to Brussels, etc. to stateside 
                          reflections ....  

 

  -P-78: One World Energetics- 

  we p around in 78,
  desde Aztlán to Asia,
  las Américas to Europa,
       cerveza fria en lo naropa    of thoughts 
  all human strains
                    strain

  to surely express
  the surly and the joyful,
                            multiple scenes of sentient feelings 
       merge into fragile patterns, 
  ideation begats IDEATION,        abstractions
       of hyper-realistic imagery
                          agglutinate
       while star-crossed maunderers institute
       poetic statutes,    convalescing mindsouls 
  carouse and eviscerate, a la neta, ¡CHINGONAMETRICAMENTE!, 

  all sing-song phrasers gather round, 
  chant and sup and revitalize life's poetic regeneration 

  while carving out destinies 
  from gargantuan ideals 
  in soup of timespace, wailing and realizing
   a beauty

  que es como pizzas de cocodrilo, 
  stuffing dinosaurian slices of herring steeped 
  in taco juice jargonese a lo bien fabricado, 
  beer flows slovenly 
  over tired, amorphous late night carousing poetry, 
  beauty resides only 
  to ventilate
  cacophonous remonstrations, 
  all night metro stations of visual hopes 
  dance toda la pinche noche sin reproche, 
  POETS,
  what irrational system commandeers us 
  to feel
  and what madness mandates us to think?

  why the fatigue? the ennui? 
  is it our human fragility
  becoming even more fragile  
  than the gossamer threads of language in its diffusion? 

  rankled, we walk
  cobbled streets of (h)amsterdam(n), 
  cauterized one to the other
  by the despair of feelings run amok ...

  gnawing/gnashing words, each like 
  a drunkard's fart,
  wet, soggy, & polluted,
          a Texan fuckeroo humdinger of a fuckless, fickle,
  & feckless fart, 
  hanging low, clinging still
  to mind's asshole walls,
  clawing on to dear life
          as it cuts its fetid stench onto 
  an also fetid atmosphere; 
  blackhole or supernova, worming into 
  thoughtfeelings 
  its pungent idiocies, poetry screams 
  moroni's obscenity of obsolescence, 
  while placid pestilence careens & dances; 
  let us link our fragile skeins
  of life
  unto the unsanity of realization, 
  entelechially affirming 
  that concomitant 
  to definition and reflections exists 
  the resoluteness of action 
  that responsibly responds
  to the psychophantic quixoticness
  of some farter            who art              in heaven
  of sexual resonance,      let thy madness          evoke
  but that      which can   bespeak,
  te deum       te deum     te chingo,
  artless truths            and artful folly,
  for fellation             is upon me
  what cunnilingus can be for me is but
  something else for you,   sangre de cristo
  esta visto                desprovisto
  thigh to thigh, asses to  BLESSED BE MY CHORA,
  tu boca me implora, 
  for in the sacred scrolls 
  of fantasy and fear 
  shall most cringe,
             awaiting words of wisdom, 
  ay, providential glockenspiels proselytizing, 
  you, me, we, all of humankind 
  festooning itself unto itself,
  hollow-hallowed concepts of self apportionment,

  ismic mimics genuflecting to mediocrity, 
  hoping that repetition 
  of our falseness can ingest in us 
  a seeming show of strength, still, 
  in spite of you
  and me
  and everything, 
  we shall survive 
  and perhaps learn 
  that reason 
  is created 
  by struggling toward a humanizing meaning, 
  and it is still early, 
  the day 
  for humankind
               has barely dawned,
  P-78 is but a step
  into ourselves ... neta,
  te digo
  que poética 78
  curves itself
  into our curling thoughtfeelings,
  sears the fear
  while
          charting out new human courses, 
  permeates
  the chanting and braying 
  concatenations, 
  swims in the alluvial trivia 
  of human societal fears & insecurities, 
  come pan y toma vino, 
  mama un panochón bien fino, 
  P-78
  cantagrita
  a possible unison
  mientras cerebra
  lo poético de lo vital:
             CHINGONAMETRICAMENTE!