June, 2012

Rt. 66 Casino

June 28th, 2012 at 9:57 am by under Face of Fox

Get your kicks on Rt. 66 Casino and Hotel…  If it’s gambling, night life or delicious eats Rt.66 has got you covered.  Everything from world class entertainment to an out of this world night club that is literally the “Envy” of every night club this side of the Sandia’s but don’t take my word for it do your self a favor and log onto www.rt66casino.com and take an tour on line.

Hakim Bellamy

June 27th, 2012 at 9:59 am by under Face of Fox

Today on STYLE Kristen and Nikki sat down with Hakim Bellamy who is New Mexico’s very own Poet Laureate.  For those of you like myself who are not familiar with the term Poet Laureate.  A Poet Laureate is a Poet officially appointed by a government for the purpose of composing poems for state occasions and other government events.  Hakim is not a native of New Mexico but loves the Land of Enchantment so much he has moved here permanently.  In fact Loves it so much he wrote an amazing poem that like NM is rich with culture, flavor, music, history and even some extraterrestrial activity.  Please do your self a favor and read Mr. Bellamy’s wonderful poem bellow…

The official poem commissioned by the City of Albuquerque for the New Mexico Centennial Celebration, delivered on the Main Stage at the Summerfest Centennial Celebration on June 16th, 2012 before Los Lobos and after Robert Mirabal.

To: New Mexico

From: Hakim Bellamy

100 Years of Corridos: A song for the New Mexico Centennial


In the 1st chapter

Of the Gospel

According to Anaya


Rudolfo writes

“All of the older people spoke only Spanish,

And I myself understood only Spanish.”

In English


Bienvenidos Albuquerque

I myself

Understand only English

In Dine


We speak many languages

But mean the same thing

And manana

Will be more of the same







Come on and sing along


We’re going to






For 100 years B.C.

Before the Commodores

Before Lionel Ritchie

And for a 100 years more


We’ve farmed

Feasted and fixed cars


We’ve moved people

And mixed razas


We’ve got an appointment

With the curandera


As soon as we leave the doctors


A lust for livestock

Like chupacabras


Afraid of God

And the inexplicable


Dinosaur fossils


So in love with space

And the people who live there

That we speak Chewbacca


The 47th state

Admitted to the Union

We might as well have been The Moon

…of Endor

To our forefathers


With the oldest

And highest

State capital in the country

People on both coasts

Should look up to us

Instead of wondering

If they have to exchange their money

Before coming



Dollars is our official currency too

And though

We don’t have much of it


Money can’t buy cultura


Our History Book

The King Alfonso Version

Is a canon

Of wars and peace


A Bible

Of you and me

That was written in Madrid

By missionaries and mestizos


We are men of magic

And women of wizardry

Who speak in spell and song

Wing words

And fly them like a flag


All yellow

Between red and green

Like a traffic light


Like the state question is

Hurry up

Or slow down

Never stop


All of the older people sung only corridos


In those corridos…


I only heard gospel


Maybe it’s me

Maybe it’s a stage


But every time

I hear the clap of thunder

It sounds like a blessing


Every time

I hear the pitter, patter

Of the rain


It sounds

Like a round

Of applause


And even the monsoon roars


And the flash bloods


Our hearts

With love


One hundred

New Year’s Eves

Of trying to puncture precipitation


Where the sky never dies

And the clouds wear bulletproof vests


Where we perpetually live

In the shadow of a hot air balloon eclipse


We are not a city

That speaks “Good Morning”

We are a city that speaks

Mass Ascension


Like Grandpa

Only spoke Spanish

While he was drinking


Buenos Dias


Like Grandma

Only spoke Latin

When she was praying


Buenas Noches


Where water

Is so sacred and scarce

That we pot it

In puddles

On our flat roofs


Pool it

In vestibule stoups

Of steepled temples

Where pigeons swirl and roost


Pond it

In mountaintops

On our not-so-flat horizons

We bottle it

In our bodies

And set fire to it

In our forests


Where it sounds like

Acequias babble “amen”

And bosques

Smell like baptisms


Where the rain

Doesn’t speak any language

It only understands dance


And sometimes

We miss it so much

We need TWO rainbows

To promise us

It is coming back


After thousands of years

Of owners

For this little piece of hacienda


It’s been us as tenants


Roommates for the past hundred


Call it a trust

Call it a Zia-shaped symbol for eternity

Over our right ring finger


Call it the interconnectedness of cultures

Call it married to each other


Speak now or forever hold your “chisme”


We are

Actions speak louder than wordsmiths

Storytelling rituals


We don’t speak Project Runway

We Cowboy Cosmopolitan

Urban Traditional


Where our children

Dare not say or see

Cucui or La llorona

But are lucky

Santa speaks Spanglish

And has a sweet tooth

For leche y biscochitos


Where birthdays

Are miracles

And each one

Has a spirit

Holy Spirit

Or patron saint


Where we celebrate




In the beginning

The Greatest Spirit

Created America

And the earth


And it was



I don’t speak perfect English

Barely even speak passable Spanish


But it’s okay


Because there is no such thing

As “perfect English”

Except for the word

Nuevo Mexico


© Hakim Bellamy June 12, 2012

For more info visit www.hakimbe.com