(«Self-Portrait» by Bodo Vespaciano/All Rights Reserved)
QUESTIONS
(Francisco Bravo Cabrera-09/07/2023, Listening to Rubber Soul , The Beatles-Valencia, Spain)
Maybe Sabrett’s knows your secret,
best restaurant in New York City,
or a Kansas City barbecue has discovered what moves you,
what drives you to Mac and Cheese, meatloaf and mashed potatoes…
Why do your city crowds swim in and out, like the tide?
Why has the beat, that moves your feet changed?
Why do your blue centurions rush to battle and treat civilians like cattle?
Why do Black lives matter now?
Did they matter years before when they used a different door to seek the shelter you kept only for those deemed as White?
Did you think you were right?
When do your soldiers come home?
When does anyone ever come home when you supply cluster bombs to those in wars so far away?
What is war for anyway?
For whose gain is it that we all must pay?
Gains for the merchants of death…
Gains for those whose heads float in the clouds…
Gains for those who preach but don’t lift a finger to carry the burden they place on the real “you,” the little people,
the everyday people,
the expendable ones,
the hungry ones,
the homeless ones,
the forgotten,
alienated,
maligned,
unwanted…
You wonder who put all those things in my head?
As I? And I wish I could shut my mouth.
But I’m only asking questions…
There’s no point in the search for truth.
Why are your children raised on video games?
Digital world, computerised affection that’s replaced their parents hugs and good intentions.
Confusion in your head…
madness in your bed…
an AK-47 in your hands,
Smith & Wesson,
magic wands,
shoot the children,
burn the schools
pray to death, and blame it all on mental illness…
Violence is and killed the peaceful dove…
Who replaced chocolate floats with oxycodone?
Budweiser with ecstasy?
Apple pies with crack cocaine?
Soul Music with Rap?
Rock and Roll with authentic crap?
Nothing’s real on television, videos, films or comic books.
Heroes don’t wear capes or leotards.
Prayers don’t rise up to Superman, or to Avatars or Batman…
You’ve been moved against your will,
lied to, manipulated.
Who told you that guns don’t kill?
Well they gave me one when I went off to war! They didn’t give me a Frisbee!
They told you God was dead and you believed them…
But they knew the truth that God ain’t dead!
God is in charge…
You’re the sacrificial lamb of the XXI Century…
Take a deep breath…
COVID’s still around…
Funny how the terrorists disappeared when you had to wear a mask for two long years?
So I walk down 7th Avenue,
Manhattan’s home but home’s a fantasy, an illusion, a hologram…
And though this sidewalk burns with Augusts’ heat and Sabrett’s waiting for me down the street,
I’m still looking for answers to my questions…
+++++
I will admit it is a little long, but this is my response to all the madness I am seeing and hearing about that is going on in this world today. Although I am not from the US, I did live there for most of my life and served that country honestly and proudly.These words are said with love and consideration for all the good people of that wonderful nation which I love,
(«El Swing» obra original de Francisco Bravo Cabrera/Derechos Reservados)
Bueno… Sé que hace unos días he estado machacando y machacando asuntos no relacionados con el arte, la poesía ni con la música. Pero es que la política, la religión, las cosas que están pasando, especialmente aquí y en todo el Mundo Occidental, son cosas importantes que afectan nuestro presente y futuro. Entonces, siendo artista, tengo mi voz que ruge y tiene que hablar de estas cosas, y creo que todo el que tenga voz y sepa usarla, tiene el deber de hacerlo.
El caso del beso de Rubiales, venga, aunque lo he criticado, no era para tanto. Pero como no me gustan las injusticias he dicho y redicho que no era para montar un pollo como lo han montado algunos. Ahora parece que también está diciendo lo mismo el tribunal que lo ha investigado. Y ahí lo dejo y que cada quien haga un análisis de su vida, de lo que hacen, de lo que han hecho y el que esté libre de pecado que tire la primera piedra…
El artista tiene que ser fiel a su historia. La historia se está haciendo momento a momento y resulta de los choques y las reconciliaciones entre ideas, la economía, el arte, la cultura etcétera etcétera. Para que su obra artística tenga esa carga espiritual y fidelidad a la historia, tiene que reflejar el momento, la época y los tiempos que atraviesa el artista. Si el artista escoge pintar o dibujar cosas de otras épocas o cualquier tema del cual no tenga conocimientos o experiencia, o sea, lo desconocido, entonces esa obra carecerá de espiritualidad. Estos fueron principios que formuló Kandinsky el siglo pasado y siguen siendo verdad, al menos para mí.
Vale… Entonces creo que he hablado y he dicho lo que tenía que decir y ya he pasado la pagina. No quiero aburrir a mis lectores que son también mis amigos. La pasión por una causa, por el deporte, el arte, otra persona o cualquier otra cosa nos provoca y nos estimula, causándonos tal euforia que lo que queremos es seguir y seguir. Pero aunque tenemos que serle fiel a nuestros impulsos (mientras que no sean dañinos) también tenemos que medirnos y autocensurarnos. Este consejo os doy a todos pues todos podemos caer en la trampa y caer en el fanatismo. No olvidéis que la barrera entre el fanatismo y el misticismo (entusiasmo) es porosa y permite el osmosis, así que tened cuidado.
(«Verde barco, verde mar» original Art Digital by Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)
When the ship sails without a captain, or when the captain is a weak minded fool that lets himself be manipulated, the crew tends to have things their way. When the captain allows himself to be flattered, mainly because he is vain and narcissistic, the sailors are the ones truly in charge. So the ship is bound for nowhere. It passes ports and ports but never gets close to land. The sea is where the crew believes they can rule and fear keeps them away from people because if the captain should be confronted by those who will tell him the truth, the sailors will lose their hold on him. So the ship just keeps on sailing. powered seemingly by the winds.
But even mischievous sailors and First Mates have to eat, have to drink and food does not last forever, neither does water or anything else to drink. So they begin to scheme and plan to see if there is a way they can sneak into port and repost and sail off again to nowhere…
This is not an easy task but with much intention they think they can pull it off. Let’s see…
If this sounds at all like what is happening to certain countries in the world, (just replace the positions with political ones), it’s probably because it is…
FOLLOW US FOR ART, MUSIC, OPINION AND WELL, YOU KNOW, OPINIONS…
(Obra original de «Art Digital» de Francisco Bravo Cabrera/Derechos Reservados)
SIGO SIENDO UN TÍO
A las nueve menos cuarto te iré a buscar, te recojo en el mercedes, iremos al mar, a cenar lo que te gusta y a conversar. Trataré de seducirte y robarte un beso, y tocar tu suave piel, acercar tu cuerpo, pues yo se que tu lo quieres igual que yo, y no me vayas a culpar, o pelear o regañar por cobijarte del frío , al final, bien lo sabrás, que yo sigo siendo un tío.
Al hombre y a la mujer, sabemos lo que nos gusta, y lo que somos, seremos y hacemos lo que queremos, la verdad no nos disgusta.
El hombre tiene que ser el galán que amas y admiras, el que te abre la puerta, el que te pide los tragos, el que va a pagar la cuenta, el que te cuida el costado, el que defiende tu honor si algún intrépido inmundo se atreve a decirte algo, poco está para este mundo. Tus ojos nunca vacilan, en mi se fijan con ansias de que te tome en mis brazos y te bese para calmarte las ansias…
Y la mujer debe ser, siempre dócil, siempre hermosa, no importa lo que ahora digan las que pretenden cambiar la naturaleza humana, para imponer otra cosa. Lo que Dios hizo es perfecto, no admite reparación, yo sigo siendo ese tío que roba tu corazón.
Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 01 SEP 2023, Valencia, España
They were from Los Angeles, California and in many ways they were a defining force for the counter-culture of the 1960’s. That might seem a trifle naïve in this day and age, after we have seen the result and many other changes as well. But what was happening in the 60’s was unique, spiritual, material, real, and original. It served as the catalyst that launched us towards this strange world we live in. However, the great music, rock/folk/country/Latin, was the best ever, surpassed only by the 70’s but then a steady downward spiral took over music in most of the world, lamentably…
The Mamas & The Papas had many hit songs. One of my faves is «I Saw Her Again», but here are many for you to enjoy all day if you choose…
Cass Elliot, known as Mama Cass, died first in 1974… Papa John Phillips died in 2001… Denny Doherty died in 2007… Michelle Phillips, born in 1944 is still with us…
(Photo By CBS Television – eBay itemphoto frontphoto back, Public Domain)
