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LOSalon: Un Salón es una reunión de personas bajo el techo de un huésped inspirador, que se celebra en parte para divertirse entre sí y en parte para refinar el sabor y aumentar el conocimiento de los participantes a través de la conversación. Salones, comúnmente asociada con los movimientos literarios y filosóficos Franceses de los Siglos 17 y 18, siguen floreciendo a nivel mundial a través de el Internet que proporciona un nuevo medio para colaborar.

Friday, May 17, 2013

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Luis Chaluisan

LA FAMILIA E BOOK

Luis Chaluisan-The Nuyorican Salsa Movement

SALSAMAGAZINE.COM

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Labels: 15th Salsa Congress, El Extreme, From Mambo To Hip Hop, Izzy Sanabria, LASolon, Lola Magdalena, Luis Chaluisan, Mr Salsa, New Edge Theater, Nuyorican, Planet Lovetron, Spic Chic. Rocker Roller Rican, WepawebTV

Location: Bowling Green, OH 43402, USA

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▼ 2013 (28)
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About Me

Luis Chaluisan: Mobile
347-526-2670

Email
luis chaluisan@gmail.com
LOSalon: A Salon is a gathering of people under the roof of an inspiring host, held partly to amuse one another and partly to refine taste and increase the knowledge of the participants through conversation. Salons, commonly associated with French literary and philosophical movements of the 17th and 18th centuries, continue to flourish worldwide through the Internet that provides a new way to collaborate.
I owe a great deal of thanks to my brother Ronald Chaluisan who proposed conducting Salons in the early 1990's when he lived in Brooklyn. He suggested to study the French Salon movement in the 17th and 18th centuries.

LOSalon: Un Salón es una reunión de personas bajo el techo de un huésped inspirador, que se celebra en parte para divertirse entre sí y en parte para refinar el sabor y aumentar el conocimiento de los participantes a través de la conversación. Salones, comúnmente asociada con los movimientos literarios y filosóficos Franceses de los Siglos 17 y 18, siguen floreciendo a nivel mundial a través de el Internet que proporciona un nuevo medio para colaborar.
Le debo mucho gracias a mi hermano Ronald Chaluisan? quien propuso la realización de un Salon en la década de 1990's cuando vivía en Brooklyn. El me sugirió a estudiar el Movimiento de Salon Francés en los siglos 17 y 18.

CANTO I
Johnny Boy is back in town
A creeper in bruised lives
A trader in sultry secrets
He has absolutely
No right to know
A metropolitan skyjacker
Taking hostage
The stray adventurer
He preys out of emptiness
A modern vampire of emotions
Johnny Boy has arrived
Brought by powers unseen
To change the course
A necessary evil
In a dirty little town
Of ruined directions
Skyscrapers amuse him
Pits invite the taste of his special
Manipulations
Have you seen him?
El Loco Cantinero
Of hyperventilated thoughts
Have you seen him?
He arrived naked at the party
Trying to check his clothes
And announcing to all
“I CAME TO DANCE!”
He seduces
The confused poet
The isolated lover
The struggling woman
The ambitious teacher
To tell him their stories
Johnny Boy dismisses boundaries
And uses the tragedy
Of a comedian
To ejaculate his venom
He performs on stage
Fully in charge
Sparks fly from
His steel tipped heart
Creating icons
Of indignity
Of impulse
Have you met him?
His eyes tongue a red haze
Of silver spikes and
Black velvet fury
A Catholic boy on
A rampage through Hell
A new-age saint
With a customized Rosario
Who sweats benedictions
As he rides her
On an elevator rooftop
With a pistol strapped to his back
Each thrust setting off a bullet
Up between her legs
Through her stomach
Past her heart
Coming out her lips into his ...
A wild shot of cold-hearted lust
As soot falls on them
Like soft black petals
Raining on both
The living and the dead
A rogue dusky
Decadancing on the edge of razors
He stalks runners with his boy
Yo Yo Montalvo
And tries ways
To avoid their own stalkers
Night bombers in silk shirts
And four-hundred-dollar shoes
Searching for keys broken off
Long ago in forgotten locks
Searching for
The Great Game
While compromising every truth
Along the way
Searching for a way in
He's been speeding so long
Marking time
Paying cops
Burying partners
Tricking queens
Cruising shadows
Whacking even priests
In dreams reality cuts loose
Avenues slice into boulevards
D-D-D-D-D-Dodge City
He jumps into his
Third-world club car
Reeking of polo and reefer
An artillery strapped
On every extremity
He's headed for a
Sell - A - Bray - Tion
Yo Yo is spinning
Dead eyes
Crazy glued on everything
A plastic mask for a face
Fifth in one hand and
Eight Ball in the other
A new kind of pool game
Without a cue
On guard
From what
Himself
He supposes
Yo, let's go visit the savages
In Brooklyn
But they never get past the border
Johnny goes for a hit
Takes a drink
Forgets to steer
And BAM!
Rams the highway divider
The savages aren't
In Brooklyn
They're trapped
They're in the car
They're on the mainland
They're here
They're Ussssssssssssssssssssssss
Now I ask you
Have you met him?
Have you met him?
Have you met him?
I have ...
He calls collect
From way
Inside

CANTO II
Por qué tú sufres
Si tú no tienes
Porque sufrir
Por qué tú lloras
Si tú no tienes
Porque llorar
Downtown
Stop Look Listen
It’s now New Rican Village time
On Avenue A off Sixth
Loisaida
Alphabet City
New York New York
Big Butt Lulu
Slides across the dance floor
Earthquake thighs keeping time
With Andy Gonzalez' bass
As Nestor Torres' flute
Unleashes a dance hall trance
With a Valentino smoothness
Hilton Ruiz
The high priest of the piano
Arches in the darkness
Responds with tinkling caresses
That stream in between
The steady clave keeping time
For Jerry Gonzalez' drums
While Papo Vasquez fills with riffs
Notes thrust from
Every angle in the room
Penetrate
Lay sweltering
Just below my stomach
I absorb all eagerly
As music and being
Lock
For the climax
Welcome to Eddie Figueroa's
New Rican Village
Loisaida N.Y.
Temple of the New
Rican Renaissance
Lola Magdalena
Mambo smiles
Showing more teeth than Jaws
Yo Yo Montalvo
Swallows the evening
He's awaken to hunt
Billie Zombie passes joints
Laced with dust
And cases club members
To rob later
Suzie Sidewinder hovers above all
Mussolini in high heels
Little Lucie Blue Eyes
Waits for her Man
With the patience
Of a practiced killer
Wilfredo the Anointed Apostle
Is surrounded by a sea of estrogen
A man drowning on dry land
Kept afloat by Santa Ana
The turquoise dressed martyr
As Carmen Baby sits at home
Murmuring her mantras
To saints and candles
Behind blessed glass
And Johnny Boy
"El Malote del Bronx"
Well, he feeds his lovers
A thousand yards of tongue
Stingray shocks his prey
Then disappears in the mist

CANTO III
There’s one who can speak
The truth at all times
In the court
Of the Spanish King
During the days of
The Old Empire:
The Jester.
So is my role in the court
Of the New Empire.
The Light guides me,
I say what's on my mind
And at the end of the day
I dream Truths.
That way when I pass
From this Old World
I'll march right up to
Him in heaven and ask
What the hell was that all about?
And with my luck
The Elusive One will answer:
Do you remember when
We are together then before as One
You ask for IT — A human experience!
Do I deliver on your curiosity?
Travel on there’s more …
Just go ahead through the looking glass.
But, I’m scared Abba.
Trust me I walk with you.

CANTO IV
There are two things
God knows that
Carmen Baby knows
One
She is beautiful
Two
The value she places
On her life
And on the lives
Of the ones she loves
I glide precariously
Alongside her path
At once tender
Then off-center
When touched by
The moonlit madness
That fuels my mind
Two binary stars
Dancing in the night sky
Drawn in and then out
Held together by the magnetism
Of our daughter Chasan
The ark of the covenant
Wherein Carmen keeps my soul
Three universes drawn together
By a special mystical plan
Which I manage to corrupt
With the panache
Of Foghorn Leghorn
On steroids:
I Do I Say I Do I Say I love you
Carmen replies You say You do
But at night I cry and
No tears come from my eyes
Carmen prays
And drifts to another place
In that world
Chasan is safe to roam
I am at ease
And she is free to love
But those dreams are corrupted
By my impetuosity
Corrupt fascination
Bent Brilliance
She doesn’t lose her temper
She finds it
And yet she still loves
Because she has the
Blue Eyed Ark with her
Because she has
The Princess tucked away
As I travel the byroads
Writing my lines
As a Dantian reporter
From the underworld

CANTO V
I’m
An unbroken cowboy
In love with
The open ranges
In love with
HER
Small town
One-legged
Dance hall girl
Known as
“Delilah Blue”
A sensuous comet
Streaking across
My sky mind
22 Raven
On her hip
Blackjack
In her pocketbook
A stiletto hidden
By the prosthetic
Of her Little Leg
The sun rises
Every time
Delilah’s eyes open.
She speaks
And my soul is fulfilled
Delilah can figure out
My little boy secrets
With her spirit
We meet
In a mountain desert
But are far
From being dry
On our first date
I ask Delilah
Hey Baby
How you lose
Your leg
She wryly responds
I tire of it
It weighs me down
Later
Bathed in incense
Candles
And the
Sticky
Bittersweet smell
Of love-making
I peek into
Delilah’s soul
And
Witness a lifetime
Of breaking
And resetting
A body that God
Does not quite complete
One leg shorter
Than the other
A spine
That can’t support
Her height
Which rises
Above the turmoil
The final straw
Comes at the hands
Of five drunken marines
Who rape
Burn
And
Torture her
At the hospital
The doctor says
We can save your life
But maybe not the leg
Cut it off immediately
Cut away the past
Walk into the future
I cry that first date
Hearing HER story
And lay the foundation
For a year of
Twisty Love
I understand her wildness
She consecrates my abandon
Our need to
Be bad
Be with each other
And
Be in love
Outweighing the risks
At the Metropolitan Museum of Art
As I dive into the torture
Of Van Gogh’s face
Delilah robs a Belgian tourist
Of 3000 dollars
Presents it to me
Here Poppy
Here’s my dowry
Past indiscretions
Come calling
For Delilah and me
During a
Rum and cocaine-choked
Celebration
Of our first
Year anniversary
I find Delilah
Dazed
On the bedroom floor
Boozy sighs pouring
From her lips into my ears
Oh, poppy
The pain is so bad
Even my conscience hurts
It’s spring
And
We’re blind
I know I have to act
And lay a path
For Delilah to escape
And save myself
Delilah
Who can always figure out
My little boy secrets
Acts
She walks into
A local bank
Makes a .357 withdrawal
Leaves me a note
And
Flies back west
To rest
Under the Volcano
Thanks for the star-spiked rodeo
Poppy
But I’m fatigued
It weighs me down
I cry reading that note
But understand
Because Delilah shows me
By her example
By her courage
Cut away the past
Walk into the future
You see
You can’t enjoy
The light of reason
Unless you first
Experience
The Dark Night
Of the Soul.

CANTO VI
REDEMPTION
I spend my days
Making vertical and
Horizontal calculations
Along crooked streets
Of lights and shadows
Possessed by an
Arrogant ambition
To read
The mind of God
But there's a price to pay
Pain the toll
As I divide my time
Between chasing God
And chasing the Dragon
Combining lethal doses of
Horse beat with cane
A perverse boy meets girl
The gravity of my situation
Bending the light of reason
Cut off from others
Oblivious to their
Opinions and prejudices
I remain
A child at heart
Asking the simplest of questions
But obsessed
With the human equation
How did God make the universe
How did God make it right
How does one plus one equal
One
Solitude my choice
Because no one
Can take that from me
But as the temporal music
Of my solitude unfolds
So come
The visions and the voices
I listen and I’m transfixed
Listen:
I am here before it starts
And
I am here after the end
I’m a hidden treasure
That desires
To Be Known
Therefore
I create you
The Creation
In order to be known
Trust me
I walk with you
An interior illumination
That allows me to see
Through my soul’s eyes
Becomes messages in “g” forces
That rip the air around me
Becomes a deep well I fall into
Eagerly drinking from its waters
Making a lasting moment
Out of a singular incident
Becomes a shrine
All have access to
I am exhausted
After all that spiritual stuff
I lay down
Perfumed in stolen flowers
And
Sodden lust
Rocked to sleep
By the cadence of
The Elusive One's
Breath
Song
And
Words
Words
Words
Listen
Here's the secret
You have to know life
To recreate life
And
One more thing
I love you
I love you all

CANTO VII
Chant d'Automne
Baudelaire
i
Bientôt nous plongerons
dans les froides ténèbres;
Adieu, vive clarté de nos
étés trop courts!
J'entends déjà tomber
avec des chocs funèbres
Le bois retentissant sur
le pavé des cours.

Tout l'hiver va rentrer
dans mon être: colère,
Haine, frissons, horreur,
labeur dur et forcé,
Et comme le soleil dans
son enfer polaire,
Mon coeur ne sera plus
qu'un bloc rouge et glacé.

J'écoute en frémissant
chaque bûche qui tombe;
L'échafaud qu'on bâtit n'a
pas d'écho plus sourd.
Mon esprit est pareil à la
tour qui succombe
Sous les coups du bélier
infatigable et lourd.

Il me semble, bercé sur
ce choc monotone,
Qu'on cloue en grande hâte
un cercueil quelque part,
Pour qui ?-- C'était hier
l'été; voici l'automne !
Ce bruit mystérieux sonne
comme un départ.

ii
J'aime de vos longs
yeux la lumière verdâtre,
Douce beauté, mais tout
aujourd'hui est amer,
Et rien, ni votre amour, ni
le bourdoir, ni l'âtre,
Ne me vaut le soleil
rayonnant sur la mer.

Et pourtant, aimez-moi,
tendre coeur ! soyez mère,
Même pour un ingrat, même
pour un méchant;
Amante ou soeur, soyez la
douceur éphémère
D'un glorieux automne ou
d'un soleil couchant.

Courte tâche ! La tombe
attend; elle est avide !
Ah ! laissez-moi, mon front
posé sur vos genoux,
Goûter, en regrettant l'été
blanche et torride,
De l'arrière-saison le rayon
jaune et doux.

Mère des souvenirs,
maîtresse des maîtresses,
Ô toi, tous mes plaisirs!
Ô toi, tous mes devoirs
Tu te rappelleras la
beauté des caresses,
La douceur du foyer
et le charme des soirs,
Mère des souvenirs,
maîtresse des maîtresses !

Les soirs illuminés par
l’ardeur du charbon,
Et les soirs au balcon,
voilés de vapeurs roses,
Que ton sein m’était
doux! que ton coeur
m’était bon !
Nous avons dit souvent
d’imperissable choses
Les soirs illuminés par
l’ardeur du charbon.

Que les soleils sont
beaux dans les
chaudes soirées !
Que l’espace est
profond ! que le
coeur est puissant !
En me penchant vers
toi, reine des adorées,
Je croyais respirer le
parfum de ton sang.
Que les soleils sont beaux
dans les chaudes soirées!

La nuit s’épaississait
ainsi qu’une cloison,
Et mes yeux dans le
noir devinaient tes prunelles,
Et je buvais ton souffle,
ô douceur! ô poison !
Et tes pieds s’endormaient
dans mes mains fraternelles.
La nuit s’épaississait ainsi
qu’un cloison.

Je sais l’art d’évoquer
les minutes heureuses !
Et revis mon passé blotti
dans tes genoux.
Car à quoi bon chercher
tes beautés langoureuses
Ailleurs qu’en ton cher corps
et qu’en ton coeur si doux ?
Je sais l’art d’évoquer
les minutes heureuses !

Ces serments! ces parfums!
ces baisers infinis,
Renaîtront-ils d’un gouffre
interdit à nos sondes
Comme montent au ciel
les soleils rajeunis
Après s’être lavés au
fond des mers profondes?
Ô serments! ô parfums!
ô baisers infinis!