travel Sketches
October, November 202
PROLOGUE
This little book, I call it a book though it only exists online here, is of observations about three places I recently visited, Amsterdam, Budapest and Venice.
It really starts before the trip with a couple of poems about why to write poetry.
As usual I have many titles and can’t decide on only one …
“Venetian views”, “Pirates of the high seas” "colonialists supreme" … or simply “travel poems or sketches"
I've also added a few pictures, often a photo speaks volumes .
Hope one day you get to travel to these places .
m
I would use this for a book cover if I was going to print it…
But then look where books end up…step making…
DISCLOSURE
Writing is not a game to see
who knows more or best
poetry specially
deals with the act of being,
only that, novel and narrative
are not momentary as poetry
A poem is instantaneously conceived
not constrained
edited manipulated chopped and rewritten
Fiction is another reality
put together by a creative mind
not because is bored with reality
who can really be that bored!
Fiction is like a relief valve
of the mind of writers.
BE A POET
But where ?
not in America
in Italy maybe
in the heart of the world
which is Venice
where the light
inspires even the dead
be a poet
where feet have lion wings
where the sílaba
reafirma in a conciliatory
sentence
where silence is an adjective
be a poet
where the nocturnal tree
of past sentences
carries still the whispers
of the immaculate love
for words
for the eternal link
of reluctance and fragrance
one doubting the other
giving space
for new cadences
be a poet in Venice
ON MUSIC
Could we say that all western music
Is it pretty much the same?
after all it is bound to a scale of only twelve tones
there is much you can do with that,
however, it has limits
from Malher fifth's adagietto
to Barber's adagio for strings
similar in its harmonic beauty
spiked with kernels of fortes
cello and violas not to surpass the plucking of notes
yes voices of angels’
peace resolutions
hope
contemplating the end...
brilliance
primordial light
the basses! the basses!
on to top it all: Leonardo Bernstein conducting !!
bravo
I will play open piano with it.
Oct, before europe
MUSIC AND I
The night sky
every star a note
musician I
when it rains
every drop,
wet sounds
leaves
blowing in the wind
more music
the waves
of all oceans and seas
a symphony
voices of my friends
music to my ears
a poem read out loud
the applause
the singing
music I music you
music to assuage the soldiers
and make them drop their weapons
Drop your weapons Israel!!
more music, less bombs…
Oct, before Amsterdam
WHILE TRAVELING
To write without telling
Just observing the present day
riff into the beauty of the moment
with appropriate flowers
that is all
temporal and un più rubato
save yourself
Learn music !
it will give you all
like the best of Gods
Music will give you freedom
will show you paths
to write poetry
it will enhance your chances
and if you are lucky
to rub elbows with Titans
saints Goliaths sadhus
you may perform
at Carnegie hall!
off to the old continent
Oct. 15th
TRAVELS
WHAT WE ARE DOING IN BUDAPEST
Visiting Santa Cruz Frank
who somehow landed here like thirty years ago
and thru him, Victoria and Gabor, two fine art curators
hope we can collaborate one of these days
Here are some tiny observations of this place … can’t help not to think if their architectural wonders, palaces churches bathhouses synagogues and many buildings
with very strange ornate roof lines and colorful tiles and painted filigrees that seem to follow not a single school
may be also the confused left over from a recent history layered by such diverse imperial powers, Turk Ottoman Austrian Tyrolean German Soviet
and now Americana …
BUDAPEST
So much history
unknown to me
nowhere to start
like I would have
to be born again
trying to learn some of it
from the Turks
Ottomans
kings and pashas
catholics and pagans
then the communists
take over and 1956
long the list of atrocities
dancing calamities
ball rooms train cars
bath houses …
and the leaves
the leaves the leaves
this Autumn Friday
who knows what holiday
here in Budapest …
OBSERVATIONS
Of course this is brutal generalization
specially since I’ll be spending just a few days
but in between visiting bath houses
the strangeness of this confused country
can be seen on some of the terrific architecture,
they don’t like 90 degrees corners on buildings,
instead they curve around the bend of the streets
weird balcony balustrades
awnings wrapped in copper
feligrés of gypsy design
roof finials
colorful roof tiles
on any large building,
Most of them
belonging to the son in law
of president Orban…
DIFFERENT AUTUMS
One thing Venice does not have
unlike Budapest
is autumn leaves
and Buda’s trees
one can count the trees of venice
in a single evening stroll
in Budapest it can take years
Off course the Danube is wet
and reflections from castles
dots its water
but the narcotic light shimmering
on the canal’s waters of Venice
can’t be found anywhere else
perhaps on the Nile
by Elephantine island …
VENEZIA
italian haiku
Sonó arrivatto a Venezia
Santa Lucía train station
canale grande
fuck me !
PIAZZA SAN MARCO
After visiting the church
take my eyes out .
Flooding in Venice
thru the drains
that it is supposed to take water out
instead, it pours
as if hell was drowning
Venetian pirates
the Doge
the bishop
Venice is not a city
it is a business
and as such
enslaved to capitalism
soon both will end
one by water
another by fire
SECRETS
Every Venetian is a venture capitalist
pigs for sure
but tasty prosciutto
self employed mostly
bakers bankers
tourist hustlers
gondola captains
glass blowers
pizza makers gelators
no cars no bikes in Venice
and everyday
garbage and recycle collectors
ringing your bell …
Anna opens her window
and lowers the trash to them,
hurry before the tides come in
THE SERENE LIGHT OF VENICE
The light at sunset hour
watched from the rio alto bridge,
gauge my eyes after
the light reflected on water
grand canal sunset
I could go blind after
the light on a gondola
shiny black lacquered
with gold feligrés
yes, blinding
the light reflected
on her eyes
“ciego moi”
the ceiling of gold and tears
San Marco cathedral
making everyone sightless
Venice can be a blinding light
reminder of its pirate past
on every crossing bridge
Darn
Venetians don’t consider themselves
Italians
who could blame them
only the blind …
Venice
visiting Anna
and going blind sightseeing
SERENISIMA POEM
Seating across the palazzo Moretti
shimmering lights on the grand canal
negroni
church bell
splat and splush
splop and splip
water splashing
moved by late evening boats
to be born again
and be the inheritor
of a pirate’s palazzo
murano glass chandeliers
silk carpets
gold mirrors
frescos
luxury galore
and masks and masks
many masks
to hide the shame …
1-2-3
Poems are flooding my head
as the tides at piazza San Marco
with every step a phrase appears
solidifying this incongruity
is this real
are those strange purple artichokes
tasty ?
palazzos piazzas murals
and canals canals canals
the sound of water…
this isn’t real
no, this is an alien world
it has to be
the world is a turbulent place
packed with horror
this is a dream
filled with atrocious beauty
incandescent lights
martian gondolas
and people from all over the world
drunk as I
disbelieving their eyes …
LOVE
You don’t fall in love with Venice
you fall
this is a slippery place
a neighborhood of titans
where carnival masks
hide the faces
as if the axed tree
is conciliatory
to the fallen forest
WRITTING IN VENICE
Writing in Venice is easy
from morning to night thru siesta
and evening passeggiatas
five o clock aperols
all a cry
a beauty cry
roof top penthouses
ouch !
gardens, lemon trees
even a palm I saw in a patio
mildewy brick walls
cannoli shops
campos
churches
I want to rename every campo
and call them piazzas piccolas!
MORE WATER
The sordid eloquence
of venetian masks
they tell it all
tragedy
piracy
conniving
glitter
lies
but above all
they hide the faces
of terror,
never invaded
yet they are drowning …
THE SLAVE TRADER ENSLAVED
Venice has only one ruler
and it is not the Doge
nor the distant pope
neither the rich merchants
hiding in palazzos
venice’ s tyrant
is the tide
this elemental force
drowning avarice every day
resurfacing from the drain ghetto
bringing up not just water
but the cyclone of their history
the pillage shown on altars
the marbled facades
the gold and crystal chandeliers
dangling bloody opulence
stolen from the four corners of the world
AND YET
Knowing what we know
of the past of this city
one could say
fuck it, let it drown
let it all drown
gondolas and palazzos
campos and grand piazza
the very bones of Saint Mark
carnival practitioners
masquerade balls
bridges and moldy brick walls
and yet one falls in love
no other reason
than love is unreasonable
life of centuries
it is the light
the light
the light !
from God’s chandeliers
RAIN IN VENICE
Is it a sign ?
as above, so below
water from heaven
God is crying
water from hell
the tides coming in
rats floating
Saint Marks flooded
no amount of stolen gold
will appease the beast
we are left wet with prayers
BEST OF VENICE
No cars !
sadly no bikes also
but I have not heard a single horn
in a week
Bravo Venice, cars and motos free !!
VENETIAN INVENTIONS
Like in Mokum
merchants in boats
went about sailing
and grabbing stuff
everywhere they landed
banking was big
usure thieves which
has its roots in usurper
inventing trade and coins
and when trade failed
the sword …
nothing changed much these days
gun boat diplomacy
tariffs and embargos
and when everything fails:
send the marines !!
America is too big to fail
yeah, tell China that
Venetian residents
Mozart came to hang and play
Casanova played all the time
Goethe wrote Italian journeys
Wagner composed a carnival mass
Ezra Pound escaped America
Peggy Guggenheim, well Peggy…
None of these prayed in Saint Marcos
Venice is a lair of pirates
opulent yes
also wicked
tenebrosa
captivating
and stained with squid ink …
we'll skip the blood of every palazzo
and today’s Pakistani and Filipino waiters
Indian pizza makers
Bangladeshi garbage collectors
Chinese restaurateurs
of course I am making some of this shit up …
but even after death some artist moved to Venice
Stravinsky, Diaghilev... saint Michelle cemetery.
BACK TO AMSTERDAM
From Venezia to Amsterdam
leaving a dream land
where cars and motorcycles
don’t rule
just water roads madame
arriving in Amsterdam
where some of that dream
still lives on
on houseboats for sure
and in the crookedness of all
buildings with hooks
Amsterdam feels a home
because Jane and Davey live there
school yards with very young kids
playing on their backyard
their happy little voices
sounding exciting
laughing
I've never heard a fight!
oh the Dutch
yesterday they voted properly
like compassionate sentient beings
electing Rob Jetten for prime minister
Yeah!
REMEMBRANCE
(after visiting the synagogue in Budapest)
A bag of bones
Family of 13 martyred by the IDF
all there is left
a bag of bones
forget me not
the nazis of Israel at work,
a bag of bones …
REFLECTIONS IN AMSTERDAM
International state of affairs
The Usa invades Venezuela
Russia hits Poland
China takes over Taiwan
Israel blasts Iran again
Yeah, free Palestine!
Hamas will not be defeated
( they actually already lost)
however Israel needs evil Hamas
to keep their people
in a constant state of patriotic war
defending themselves
What to be done…
move to Paris or Puebla
She prefers to go sailing in Greece,
not for me, can’t sail
I am a communist!
I'll go to Rome
there to step on Cesarían
cobble stones
and lean against the fallen columns
of the empire …
BELONGING
A warm feeling of belonging
sitting by a stove
in a cafe in Amsterdam
snow flakes melting
in the canal’s water
Prinsengratch
here for eternity
I could drown
on genever and macchiatos
UPON RETURN
Foreign problems
Venice has its problems
like any paradise
the tides is one
rats is another
California
where I live
Half moon bay
what a name
the tides here too
but these ones
bring whales and dolphins
pelicans snowy plovers
and sardines
Venice has mold
my shoulders, arthritis
there you go...
to live in heaven
has consequences
I can jump in my car
and hit the mountains
in a short drive
not in Venice
can't get very far in a Gondola...
for rats
I have me cottontail rabbits
for the birds
on Anna's clock
serenading the hour
I have me the fog horn
another attraction in Venice
is to know
how many amazing artists
Venice attracted
let's face it
a place
like no other
period
Venice is like a haiku
a good one
a wet one
the ocean in my front yard
is like Venice
tamed and wild
same tide that comes in
goes out
two high tides a day
two low ones
and in my case
at least
a dozen times
a dozen tides
coming and going in my head...
music tides
painting tides
another kind of music
writing poems tides
the tides of the wind
rain tides
the tides that drown rats
good and bad tides
Venice always Venice
but to live there
you need a palazzo
is like, Venice, dear,
"to palazzo or not to palazzo"
That is the question..
POSTSCRIPT
“Lost in Mokum” (Mokum,Yiddish for a safe haven, can also be a title… ) refers to the excitement on earlier visits, when the sights of canals and winter lights reflected on the waters flanked by house boats, pure delight . But those were earlier days, when being here looking at crooked houses and roof tops hooks had an almost narcotic pleasure.
The Dutch building on swampy marsh land fill …
Those were the days when visiting Davey and Jane we loaded the open piano to go play at the church on RUIGOORD, a squatted old church where a constant group of artists lived together, we played there a couple of times and read poetry at Michael’ s cafe across from the church , yes good old days when Hans Plomp was still with us .
Anyhow… lost in Mokum no more, this time I went to Venice too.
the similarities of both places are obvious, two cities by the water, founded by minorities who were often persecuted, yet remained vibrant and ambitious, becoming eventually forceful entrepreneurs that went around the world trading commodities, spices, precious minerals and stones and, most importantly, human trafficking, which sadly still goes on, camouflaged under the veil of refugees from poor countries .
In a way the piracy continues, and perhaps that is why I travel, to inform myself and pass these observations along..
Of course better than reading these would be for you to travel there, observe-and write your own poems .
The silence of Venice is hard to find in any urban center. Venice has no cars or motorcycles, and hence is removed from the noises and constant rolling energy of all other cities ruined, meant to write ruled…by the car industry and everything else this implies, cities enslaved by the oil industry, and everything else this implies, an accomplice to war merchants and slave traders, The shackles are not of chain and iron but are the same: the cell phone in your pocket, keeping you connected and fed a certain surreal dialect drafted by the ruling classes, bankers, industrialists, royalty inheritors, bishops, rabbis, senators Ceos and the like .
Why poetry why communism
Communism because
who wants more corporate
motherfuckers running the show
who needs more Musks, Ellison, Besos ,
Gates , Zuckerbergs and the like …
billionaire monsters of capitalism
Communism because
all nobilities would be abolished
who needs more royal capitalists
sexual abusers
communism because
the opiate of the masses
will no longer rule the spirits
of the people
Communism as a step toward
a more equitable approach
to building societies
free of the yoke of unsustainable
commerce and gunboat competitions
Communism for a planet
of all people without the tribal
impulses that fuels nationalism
and wars
Yes, a poetic communism
loaded with roses and music
to dance the revolution
until the aliens come
to save us from more capital gainers …!
communism because capitalism
was founded by pirates, slave holders, colonialists and other butchers
at the command of princes and bishops.
The end.
Hope you enjoyed reading these.
November 2025.
