Check me out singing, dancing, playing the payaso and the poet with Pura Neta! Live at the Dragon Theater Zoom version, recorded on Sunday, September 27, 2020.
Pura Neta Live at the Dragon!
- Pure-ay Neeta
- Pura Neta song
- Pura Neta, Homes, street Spanglish slang for Pure Truth, a paradox, cause how the hell can anything be truth? It’s gotta be both truth and imagination.
- “Papa Was a Rolling Stone” Instrumental
- Words are fleas jumping on the page, spider symbols. READ POEM ABOUT SPIDERS.
- Only thing real is feelings. READ FEELINGS POEM.
- Whatever feeling you get out of right now is Pura Neta
- John Coltrane’s “Everytime We Say Goodbye”
- Objectively speaking the only thing we may agree upon that is Pura Neta is death, a universal truth and imagination! We believe it happens but we got absolutely no idea what it is, except for this: the roster of dead Homies:
- Pele, Smokey, Dukie Dave, Payaso, SFM Jeff, Alex Nieto, Happy, y muchos mas!
- And I can get all serious about that, but the Homies, their spirits, would want and expect something more from me.
- A toast to the tests of life!
- That’s agua 🙂 Cause Ta-kill-ya will kill ya, especially an Indio like me drinking firewater. Kill you in the guts and murder you with headaches. That firewater fever is meant to destroy you.
- Pura Neta is about you getting back to you, your natural roots: Your body, physical fitness, love making, laughs, good jokes, howling at the moon. OWWWWWW!
- Vida Loca: crazy life.
- The best we can shoot for is imperfect amor, imperfect poetry:
- PLAY WHATCHA SEE IS WHAT YOU GET.
- This song, this being in front of you is imperfect poetry, imperfect amor: Whatcha see is whatcha get!
- PLAY VIVA TIRADO BY EL CHICANO.
- I am a Mayan Indio. I bloodlet, sacrifice my sangre through this ink, through these words. My ancestors would cut their most intimate flesh and spread the pouring blood onto parchment paper, bark cloth that was then burned so that through the smoke that exuded from the flames, the spirits could snake out to reveal blessings—mysteries that drove a civilization to the stars and that were tattooed down in books, thousands of codices ultimately burned by the Spanish Conquistadores’ holy men. Alone in this room, confined to myself, to my mind, to my pride and pain, I blood-let through writing so that I can communicate with spirits, so that I can share with you secrets burned away so many moons ago.
- Pura Neta. This is my burned heart that I gift to you. This smoke that rises is for you to interpret whatever meaning you find out of it.
- Amor. Always, in all ways, all amor.
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