Happy last day of National Poetry Month 2014!

Happy last day of National Poetry Month 2014!

I did it for #NPM14. Hope you had lots of great poetry in your life this past month.

I inverted the picture for a reason. I hope you dig it.

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Cellphone Writing

Yea, I bust words from my phone, either with my phone’s touchpad keyboard on the move or my trusty Targus very portable and very bluetooth keyboard… On the move’s quick respites.

So far, all my writing in I, RAMMER have been done this way. I particularly want it this way to give the blog the feeling that it’s a tree in the passing wind, with each post as a leaf caught by it.

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Art is the Youest You You can You.

Art is the youest you you can you.

Last July I wrote something that relates to the quote above. Aside from the blasphemy of beginning a post with a double quote, it stands to marry the two if only to illustrate, if not illuminate, the just power and natural beauty of art, poetry, and you. Here’s the other little quote:

In your art, if you bend light & shadow just right, in just the way you want it, you are basically immortalizing yourself, traveling at the speed of light to the future, forever you.

Yes. You are this. You are a living art that channels that which is most divine. Divine in its sense of rarity and brevity from the seemingly endlessness of time and space. You are indeed as divine as time and as space. If we are alone in this universe, think about just how unique your mind, and correlatively, you are.

If you don’t yet see this as a basic reality, consider the infinitude of your mind. You have billions of brain cells, with over 300 trillion possible combinations of synapses. They’re all modules mounted in your cave that is your skull, in a lattice-like interrelational, dynamic configuration, all at your disposal, tied to all your senses and all that is you.

I’ll put it another way, consider this: the multiverse is real. As real as the place you’re in now. Infinity (as well as nothing) is real. Physically real, just as you are real. That means there is an infinite amount of you out in the multiverse, some so completely unlike you you might not recognize yourself, some just ever so slightly different you would have a hard time finding the differences between yourselves. Infinite amounts of you out there, one of which you get to be Batman. Isn’t that something? But I’ll tell you this, this doesn’t mean, no even one iota, that you’re meaningless. In fact, I posit the extreme opposite. This means just how special you are, because if I gather all the yous in the multiverse in one room, they would agree that you’re unique. None of the other yous out there aren’t quite like you. You’re the best at being who you are. So anything you do, any message you deliver, is going to be the most uniquely and rare thread you would weave. Mind your shine.

You can rein control of your thoughts, ergo actions and emotions, in spite of how hard it may be. This is a paramount ability that begs you to wonder the majesty of it all. If we are alone, we are the few blessed ones who molt experience pedals, our minds, infinite flowers. Us using 10% of our brains myth be damned!

Poetry and art are reflections of all this. It is you edited, yes, but at the same time it is you rarified, crystallized by all that is you. And still, it is edited and rehearsed and honed, but all this is done by you for you. You do these things to have your art and your poetry as youest as you can muster. It is you being courteous to the world and universe, consider it, without sacrificing your sense of being and integrity. It is you putting your best foot forward, to the rest of time. You, sifting through the weight and cancer, leaving no filter that hinders and keeping those that augment your vision. You get to form yourself a star with the shine of your design. This act is a testament to your openness to letting yourself transcend to the unknown, evolving yourself and your being.

It gives me joy that others see this or have already seen this. Lately I’ve been seeing lots of signs that tells me I’m not the only one feeling this way. Here are just a few examples. Enjoy:

All New X-Men #7, pg 12

All New X-Men #7, pg 12. 2013 Marvel

Here is a bit of conversation I’ve had with a friend on Facebook that seem fitting:

2013-07-31 00.06.00

2013-07-31 00.06.13

🙂

"You're awesome!" — Doctor Who

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Face Out series begins this Thursday at Word Up Bookstore

Word Up bookstore is one of the most outstanding bookstores in Manhattan. They have events practically every day of the week. As this blog is based on my work as an author, poet, and artist, it is also a blog of events in NYC that have to do with anything ranging in these topics.

I would be remissed if I didn’t acknowledge and proclaim that Word Up bookstore means a great deal to me. They have helped me cultivate my skills as a poet and host of events. But most importantly, they have helped cultivate an arts scene and literary culture in a place that desperately needs it, my beloved district Washington Heights. Should I mention the kind of selections of books they have? Because they’re not a chain store, what you will find are not just Best Sellers but also rare 1st Editions of great books, new and old, and a great selection of obscured books. They also sell vinyls, poetry books, self-published books (including from local writers and poets), comicbooks (which yours truly has on-shelf), picture books, children’s books, and books in other languages (Spanish, Russian, Japanese, etc.). Also also, they showcase art and have beautiful painted murals. Should I also mention that this is one of the few existing bookstores that is 100% ran by volunteers? Yes, in this day in age, this is happening and is not only sustaining, but thriving!

So, as you can tell, you will be reading much about the going-ons of Word Up. It’s clean, spacious, well lit, well ventilated, organized, the volunteers are more than helpful, they’re like your friend without know it. I hope you can join in all the hype.

Fridays are Open Mics, religiously; a treat you can depend on. Tuesdays are No Name, hosted by Eric Vetter, a stand-up comedy show with open mics also, comedy or spoken word/readings. And see now what Thursdays bring!

Word Up Books

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Word Up Community Bookshop/Librería Comunitaria is pleased to announce a new reading series, Face Out, presenting literary readings on (most) Thursdays. We are ecstatic to kick off the series on September 12, 7pm, with a reading by MIRIAM MEJÍA, founder of Casa Camila Verde, who will be reading new stories from Matices, published in the Dominican Republic. With a Q&A led by Jenny K Perdomo. This reading will be in Spanish.

En Word Up Librería Comunitaria, nos da un gran placer poder anunciar que una nueva serie de lecturas, Face Out, que presentará lecturas literarias (casi todos) los jueves. Nos place enormemente poder lanzar la serie este 12 de septiembre, 7pm, con una lectura por MIRIAM MEJÍA, fundador de Casa Verde Camila y autora de varios libros que incluyen Matices. Conversación conducida en español por Jenny K. Perdomo. Esta lectura será en español.

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There Stood The Orb

Hi reader of the unknown. I want to share with you a poem that’s been in different places in life. Most intimate of all it’s always in my heart, but you can find it in The Sync Book, a book about synchronicity, edited by Alan Abbadessa-Green (there’s also another poem and a comicbook short story in it by yours truly), and also it’s in The Manhattan Times. The poem is called “There Stood The Orb.”

You can read “There Stood The Orb”, plus two other poems (“I, Magik Needlesworke” and “Man”) also in The Manhattan Times website at this link: http://www.manhattantimesnews.com/2011/poetry-by-rammer-martinez-sanchez.html

Without further ado, here’s “There Stood The Orb”:

There Stood The Orb

Trapped in a wide web where eight eyes never rest
Reverse reading your readings, without one behest
With much anticipation filling the workplace
Rub the doubt off your eyes, when catching the first glimpse
Urge to a partner! Quick! Relay the news abroad!
Where, with none but silence, there stood the Orb

What is this nature that churns your young flame,
A Black Sun within reflects in black vain?
Which of the stars will struggle behind
From Hydra’s net, sheer god of the sky?
Which will glitter to merely adorn?
With none but silence, there stood the Orb

Will the wind tell the sand to evade the foam?
Or be scooped up, eddied, to be felt no more?
Which tidal hand shall delivereth ashore?
Where, with none but silence, there stood the Orb

Everywhere there’s everyplace to stand, is where stood the Orb,
Shadows where light does not dare to blind, it gleefully absorbs
Isis to the eye, pupil to the mind, long longings to trespass
The sedentary and complacent ones, it leisurely sees pass
But to the ravenous who seek, its sight gallops beside
To be one with whomever prods, spurs, whips, and rides
And slinking and be the centaur to the half-horse
But which nose is measured for tracks that measure worst?
Touch but don’t feel. See but don’t look. Bare the coming bore.
Stay where you stand, that there stood the Orb.

END

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In your art, if…

In your art, if you bend light & shadow just right, in just the way you want it, you are basically immortalizing yourself, traveling at the speed of light to the future, forever you.

There is a way of traveling at the speed of light, if only we bend the way we see it.

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Dignity at about a Quarter a Word

I love seeing figures, ethereal figures which only congeal into numbers, manifest to what they truly represent: these people. Well, yes, I’m beat, my right hand aches, my lower back aches from all the sitting, I’m hungry, and it’s hot, but to see abstruse figures turn into people makes it all worth it. I can’t say I haven’t had bad days, but sometimes there’re moments when I feel like a Rock star—a Rock star!—for attending a signing. Don’t call me a hack or anything, but I’d be hard-pressed in finding out that the most humble and ethical of writers wouldn’t feel the slightest nuance of pleasure from fans reacting like they’re Rock stars. It felt like all my work was paying off, but of course, I’ve gotten paid. Tell that to this customer that feels otherwise:

“This is it, right here. This book is the check you wrote for yourself, and by you signing it, you are signing your check. You’re being paid now. Not then. Not with money. Not with fame, but with this.”

END

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