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

 

Familia

Food

Fiesta

Forever

 

Come on and sing along

 

We’re going to

Familia

Comida

Fiesta

Forever

 

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

 

Yes,

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

However,

In those corridos…

Me?

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

“Encore”

And the flash bloods

Flood

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

Together

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

100

Today

 

In the beginning

The Greatest Spirit

Created America

And the earth

 

And it was

Bueno

 

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