3rd flier....I think I'm getting better.

But on a more serious note, come through to the Open Mic Series I'm organzing!
http://www.facebook.com/n/?group.php&gid=91568213577&mid=994424G5f5f49a6G2c26d7G40


WHAT: In collaboration with Still Waters Poetry Collective, we will be dropping a MKE Summer open mic series for youth & young adults

WHEN: This series will run from Tuesday June 16th through August 18th (7-close)

WHERE: Two different locations will be utilized: Brewed at 1208 Brady St. and Taste of Art on 47th and Lisbon

WHY: The purpose of this series is to provide a place for youth and young adults to come, meet, build community and share their art, music, poetry, and spirit. There will be at least an hour block after 9pm to kick it, freestyle, etc. The venues will alternate weekly. The idea behind this is to build community that will travel to the other location the following week.


If you have any questions, would like to host or feature hit up:

Jeanette Martin (414)758-0199 jeanette.mrtn@gmail.com

or

Alida Cardos Whaley (262)352-6036
alidaisabelle@gmail.com

chido.

THE GOAL OF A REVOLUTIONARY ARTIST,
IS TO MAKE THE REVOLUTION IRRESISTABLE

how I miss to breathe...

Just for la Raza

My cultura's not for sale gringa
when you grab a silver ring from
an Indio's stand and ask
"Koo-an-doh Koo-eh-stah"
in your sorry ass Spanish

I've seen tourists in Mexican bordertowns
Winter Texans in Tamaulipas
Wild college kids on Spring Break
Buying anything under ten dollars
Smiling at impoverished children
then
Returning to a privileged America

It's not for sale
though the sign says
You get more for your dollar
Less for your peso
But
My culture wasn't devalued.

I've seen gringos come for miles
to hear a "real" Mariachi
enjoy a few bailables
watch some surviving Indian dances

But you can't capture us on a cd,
photograph us and
make us part of your collective memory

We have our own
and in them
You are still the gringo invaders of Texas
the treacherous robbers of Aztlan
the "big brother" of the north

In my memory
you are a foreigner to me
I will not give you our precious things

My people are not for sale
I am not a happy jarabe
a rhythmic son
a colorful Jalisco dress
a Chiapas Zapatista

I am not the most vivid and publicized
I am not a woman being beaten by police
I am not a drug lord or president
I am not a technocrat
That is not my cultura
That's the media

Precious things are sacred and
your dollar will never buy you
My memories
My history
My place in a community

My cultura's not for sale gringa
and neither are my men
"Dark, indigenous looking Mexicans"
are for Anthro books and theses papers
Not for the real world
Not for your photo album

You cannot have my songs
or dances
or looks

You cannot buy the sacred stories
the history of a revolution
the pride of my cultura

These are priceless things
which have been bought with blood of Mexicans

Mexicans alone
Not for you gringa
Not for the tourist
Not for the journalist

Just for the Raza

Those of us who know we own it
without having to buy it.

La Paz

The peace in which you exist is a virtuality. You think that you live in peace tranquility and comfort. But this peace is a lie, because there can be no peace without dignity, justice, and liberty for everyone everywhere. In fact, the more that you believe in this false peace, you justify, validate, and legitimize its means: Terror. Your peace is our terror. A fair trade organic latte mochachino isn't and never will be enough for there to be a true peace; nor an energy efficient car, nor a solar panel, nor a compost bucket, nor your local sub-urban "community's" recycling program are peace in our world. These, perhaps might be good little steps, but by no means are they ends. To commercialize sustainability for a pseudo-leftist, bourgeois political class, who seeks only to feel guilt free for its peaceful, tranquil, and comfortable life, is in fact commercializing our survival. In your world, if we can afford it, we are allowed to survive in peace.