«: Juno Sé Mama MAMA came to me through my father. He taught me about what it is to be Man, Self, Strongness, It is a ritual dedicated to My mother. Upon this earth, I want her to see. I had to understand my father’s house before my mother’s house. JUNO SE MAMA is a prayer for all those Who have suffered the after effects of Slavery. Who are we? It is also a spiritual for the sick and poor, light for the blind, comfort to the young and old, Cradle song for babies, Wind…for birds in trees. The sound of thunder and lightning that BURST out over the earth. It is a rhythm of virtue. When you are all alone, Many songs come…in the night, I am a moon child. I come from New Orleans the surge of the bayou. In my young life I worked And dreamed. I wanted to sculp, to squeeze the earth With my hands. I talk with my hands. Who teach me…no one. I left my native home, New Orleans. My people were not popular with the Afro-arts. I wanted to build, to say. A first Afro-American art center. Young boy, with a Man’s dream, “and a child shall lead them.” JUNO SE MAMA. While they were running the streets, I was listening. I JUNO a drummer born. American. My father a tuxedo drummer, “once a tuxedo drummer, always a tuxedo drummer.” My mother’s father was a captain’s drummer, F Company, 84th Regiment, Union Army during the Civil war, 1863-6. For the past 12 years I have been a maker, designer, a Son…..of drums. My Afro-American Art Center will be a home for the homeless, Future sons of drums. Coltrane moves in that direction A man who knows Directions for the future depend On how we artists of today cut the road. Francis de Erdely, the famous artist Made his contribution to my art center. His sketchings of me see into and understand Rhythm and Afro art. The ritual, JUNO SE MAMA, begins in a Mighty cloud burst And the rippling of the water drum begins beating against the air cups of the world. Moon children…ready to be born. Signs of sky, earth, water. One is born called JUNO. His father’s house is the bird. You can hear him teaching his son how to fly. Fly, till you reach the sky, Float, Fly, Float till you make a boat Be strong my son and show your arm. I’m going to show you your MAMA’s home She lives in the sea. There is birth in the water in my mother’s house. No matter what has happened to us, we have to sing. There is always land ahead. Earth is where it is happening, It’s where we go from here. We have to sound the cry of the conch shell. Blow the shell… blow, blow till you see. And JUNO blowed and blowed till he grooved and grooved. Juno Lewis, December 1966

sábado, 7 de mayo de 2022

Juno Sé Mama MAMA came to me through my father. He taught me about what it is to be Man, Self, Strongness, It is a ritual dedicated to My mother. Upon this earth, I want her to see. I had to understand my father’s house before my mother’s house. JUNO SE MAMA is a prayer for all those Who have suffered the after effects of Slavery. Who are we? It is also a spiritual for the sick and poor, light for the blind, comfort to the young and old, Cradle song for babies, Wind…for birds in trees. The sound of thunder and lightning that BURST out over the earth. It is a rhythm of virtue. When you are all alone, Many songs come…in the night, I am a moon child. I come from New Orleans the surge of the bayou. In my young life I worked And dreamed. I wanted to sculp, to squeeze the earth With my hands. I talk with my hands. Who teach me…no one. I left my native home, New Orleans. My people were not popular with the Afro-arts. I wanted to build, to say. A first Afro-American art center. Young boy, with a Man’s dream, “and a child shall lead them.” JUNO SE MAMA. While they were running the streets, I was listening. I JUNO a drummer born. American. My father a tuxedo drummer, “once a tuxedo drummer, always a tuxedo drummer.” My mother’s father was a captain’s drummer, F Company, 84th Regiment, Union Army during the Civil war, 1863-6. For the past 12 years I have been a maker, designer, a Son…..of drums. My Afro-American Art Center will be a home for the homeless, Future sons of drums. Coltrane moves in that direction A man who knows Directions for the future depend On how we artists of today cut the road. Francis de Erdely, the famous artist Made his contribution to my art center. His sketchings of me see into and understand Rhythm and Afro art. The ritual, JUNO SE MAMA, begins in a Mighty cloud burst And the rippling of the water drum begins beating against the air cups of the world. Moon children…ready to be born. Signs of sky, earth, water. One is born called JUNO. His father’s house is the bird. You can hear him teaching his son how to fly. Fly, till you reach the sky, Float, Fly, Float till you make a boat Be strong my son and show your arm. I’m going to show you your MAMA’s home She lives in the sea. There is birth in the water in my mother’s house. No matter what has happened to us, we have to sing. There is always land ahead. Earth is where it is happening, It’s where we go from here. We have to sound the cry of the conch shell. Blow the shell… blow, blow till you see. And JUNO blowed and blowed till he grooved and grooved. Juno Lewis, December 1966

AURA

Carlos Fuentes. Norma. 1994. 60 pp

Así como la dulce emoción y el pretérito imperfecto en el capítulo cinco y seis y parte del siete de Archivo 81

Y esa puerta abierta no a Kaelego sino a todo el rastro de brujerismo que se puede alcanzar a leer en los titulares de los libros

No quiero maldecir ni maldecirme

Como Bergoglio rezando para que Rusia ceda en su interés (Putin) para dejar a Ucrania en paz

¿Sirve de algo?

Cuando suben de rodillas y dentro de las peticiones o augurios nombran a brujos y brujas

¿Sabés de qué me acordé con tanto riñón que comen?

Jaja

Y por supuesto de la metempsicosis

Pero es diferente ¿no?

Ahora tengo esa sensación que difícilmente se me sale como cuando sé que voy a conocer a alguien y pasan dos o tres años y me acerco se me acercan la vida me pone en contexto con gente de cierta urdimbre hasta que el ataque zampa su destino el filo de sus dientes

¿cómo un alma que reencarna logra encontrar el camino que ha sido revisado superpuesto confundido para dar con sus personas?

Firmamento de luces devotas

¿El olor? ¿El olor del rastro de la luz que van dejando a medida que van naciendo?

¿El olor en pos de la voz?

¿La manera en que vibra en el tórax es el inaudito llamado simple para que el grupo aparezca?

¿Cómo vibrar al unísono?

¿Y si dejan huellas o marcas o señas?

Asciendes detrás del ruido, en medio de la oscuridad

¿Será el período de concesión entre vida y vida lo que la literatura llama Demonios y es cuando se le da rienda suelta al espíritu para que vuelva a yacer a cabalidad?

Rumiar un nombre casi como solicitar un deseo ante una magia que se vapora en cuanto abres el portal indeterminadamente casi sin darte cuenta

Y vuelta al ruedo

Esperando lo que ha de venir, lo que no podrás impedir

Excepto que el círculo ama el espiral

PD: el libro lo leí en la casa del padre de mi esposa tal vez entre 2004 y 2006 y al fallecimiento del señor heredé la versión Cara y Cruz que nunca compré ni quisé conseguir y que valoro en demasía y lo confieso por encima de la obra del mexicano porque contiene el ensayo de Mario mendoza titulado "Un aquelarre en la calle Donceles 815"

PD II:

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