Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Meme Na...

Tagged: 10 Poetry quotes

The poem may embody perception so luminous it seems truth, but what keeps it alive is not fixed discovery, but the means to discovery.
Louise Glück

But poetry soon became more than music and images;
it was also revelation, information, a kind of teaching.
Adrienne Rich

I speak for nothing, the nothing that I am, the nothing that is this work. And you shall perpetuate me not in the name of what I was, but in the name of what I am.
Mark Strand

Transparence is the highest, most liberating value in art—and criticism—today. It means experiencing the luminousness of the thing in itself, of things being
what they are.
Susan Sontag

If you know what you are going to write when you're writing a poem,
it's going to be average.
Derek Walcott

Most of our willingness to trust (the poet) is based on the expectation that the poem will speak to us about our own lives. If we cannot find this, we must find something else: humor, beauty of structure or language, intelligence, eccentricity, and so on. But no matter the strength of these elements, they will be basically decorative unless the poem speaks first to the life of the reader.
Stephen Dobyns

Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand.

At the entrance, my bare feet on the dirt floor, Here, gusts of heat; at my back, white clouds. I stare and stare. It seems I was called for this: To glorify things just because they are.
Czeslaw Milosz

I have a notion that if you are going to be spiritually curious, you better not get cluttered up with too many material things.
Mary Oliver

The most difficult part about writing a poem is not the writing, but the process that demands belief, compassion, a sense of hope—all virtually impossible challenges. All of this takes a lifetime. What matters is not what we have written, but what we have become.
Eric Gamalinda

photo c/o ludita


btw, may opisyal bayaw blog na ang LOS CHUPACABRAS! daan kayo!

Friday, May 25, 2007

London Calling

photo taken by Ed Geronia, Jr., EIC of T3 magazine, whose camera lens is creating panic in the streets of London.

dood, uwian mo ko mga memorabilia ng The Smiths. hehe.

Death Fugue

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at evening
we drink it at midday and morning we drink it at night
we drink and we drink
we shovel a grave in the air there you won't lie too cramped
A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes
he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Marguerite
he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are all sparkling
he whistles his hounds to come close
he whistles his Jews into rows has them shovel a grave in the ground
he orders us strike up and play for the dance

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at morning and midday we drink you at evening
we drink and we drink
A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes
he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margeurite
your ashen hair Shulamith we shovel a grave in the air there you won't lie too cramped
He shouts jab this earth deeper you lot there you others sing up and play
he grabs for the rod in his belt he swings it his eyes are blue
jab your spades deeper you lot there you others play on for the dancing

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at midday and morning we drink you at evening
we drink and we drink
a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margeurite
your aschenes Haar Shulamith he plays with his vipers
He shouts play death more sweetly Death is a master from Deutschland
he shouts scrape your strings darker you'll rise then in smoke to the sky
you'll have a grave then in the clouds there you won't lie too cramped

Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at midday Death is a master aus Deutschland
we drink you at evening and morning we drink and we drink
this Death is ein Meister aus Deutschland his eye it is blue
he shoots you with shot made of lead shoots you level and true
a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margarete
he looses his hounds on us grants us a grave in the air
he plays with his vipers and daydreams
der Tod is ein Meister aus Deutschland
dein goldenes Haar Margarete
dein aschenes Haar Shulamith

--Paul Celan

(Translated by John Felstiner)

and the best translation of this work, methinks. notice how certain lines are kept in the german but still do not impede the poem's immediate sense.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Happy Mondays IV

some photos from the reading last night, c/o bayaw emman acasio. check out his blog for more pics.

salamat sa pagpunta! next reading is on june 4, starting at 9pm with los chupacabras playing after.

more poets, more wasakan, more happy mondays! word!!!

Monday, May 21, 2007

Don't Sweat the Technique!


mamaya na to! HaPpY mOnDaYs PoEtrY BaTTlE

mag:net, katipunan

with MC Miker G and DJ Sven!

AnD featuring the def skillz of:

1. Khavn dela Cruz
2. Edgar Samar
3. Gabriela Lee
4. Raymond John de Borja
5. Niccolo Vitug
6. Mike Coroza
7. Alex Gregorio
8. Mookie Katigbak
9. JR Moll
10. Lope Cui, Jr.
11. Angelo Suárez
12. Mikael De Lara Co
13. Peachy Paderna
14. Jonar Sabilano
15. Kash Avena
16. Arkaye Kierulf
17. Rafael San Diego

wurd 2 yo' muthers!!!

bring your own linoleum!

Sunday, May 20, 2007

g(l)eek na g(l)eek

apparently, someone does keep a site dedicated to truth, justice, and peace for all mankind.


eto ang kumpletong listahan ng mga miyembro. for all you saturday fun machine addicts out there, during the era of kadiwa, nutribun, and feeding.

the justice league of america

1. superman
2. batman
3. wonder woman
4. aquaman
5. robin
6. black vulcan
7. flash
8. apache chief
9. samurai
10. green lantern
11. hawkman

the legion of doom

1. lex luthor
2. giganta
3. gorilla grodd
4. sinestro
5. cheetah
6. solomon grundy
7. brainiac
8. riddler
9. scarecrow
10. the toyman
11. black manta
12. bizarro
13. captain cold

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Bizarro Love Triangle

banded together from remote galaxies are 13 of the most sinister villains of all time:

The Legion of Doom!

Dedicated to a single objective--the conquest of the universe!
Only one group dares to challenge this intergalactic threat:

                                                  The Super Friends!

sino pinaka-superprend mo dyaan? ako si gleek. labs ko mga space monkeys.

question: sinu-sino 'yang treseng myembro ng legion of doom? sige nga!


anyway, below's the list of featured readers for the Happy Mondays Poetry Nights in mag:net katipunan.

please come! no entrance fee, reading is from 7 to 930pm.

1. Khavn dela Cruz
two-time Palanca-winner, celebrated filmmaker, frontman of the bands Delakrus and The Brockas

2. Edgar Samar
the recipient of the 2006 NCCA Writers Prize grant for the novel. a winner of Palanca awards, Egay has a book of poetry, Pag-aabang sa Kundiman, published by the ateneo ORP.

3. Gabriela Lee
Gabby is a published poet and fictionist. she is pursuing her masters in the National University of Singapore (NUS). her first collection of poems, Disturbing the Universe, was published through the NCCA's UBOD new authors' series.

4. Raymond John de Borja
a member of Pinoy Poets, Emong was the youngest fellow in the 45th U.P. National Writers Workshop. His works have appeared in various literary publications, including Caracoa 2006.

5. Niccolo Vitug
Nikko was a fellow of the 44th National Writers Workshop in Dumaguete, a former literature teacher in Silliman University, and was a former member of the ateneo's Heights.

6.Mike Coroza
Isang batikang makata sa Filipino si Prof. Mike Coroza. He has won many awards in various categories of the Palanca. He hosts a radio show, Harana ng Puso every sunday over at DWBR 104.3 FM.

7. Alex Gregorio
Alex is a member of High Chair and has a published collection entitled, The Rosegun. He was a fellow of the Dumaguete National Writers Workshop.

8. Mookie Katigbak
Mookie won the first prize in the recent Philippines Free Press Literary Awards. She's won a Palanca for her poetry as well, and is a widely published author both here and abroad. She has an MFA from the New School University in NY.

9. JR Moll
is a science course graduate of the ateneo, an adopted member of the Thomasian Writers' Guild, and one of the most underrated young poets in the country.

10. Lope Cui, Jr.
Lope is an up and coming poet who holds an MBA degree from the UP and is a professor in Miriam College. He is the vocalist of rising new indie, slow-core band, Tabloid Lite.

11. Angelo Suárez
Gelo is a two-time Palanca winner for poetry, already with two collections from the UST press: The Nymph of MTV and else it was purely girls. He was a winner of the National Book Award and is currently working on his third book, Dissonant Umbrellas.


former featured readers who'll read include Mikael De Lara Co, Peachy Paderna, Jonar Sabilano, Arkaye Kierulf, and Rafael San Diego.

hosting the reading will be myself and Andrea Teran. please come and support us. if you feel like reading for the open mic, bring 1 to 2 poems.

krrrekkrrrekkkktsssskkkk. taralet's!

Mag Exercise Tayo

yoyoy villame

kuya cesar


kaya dapat, tayo na "sa plaza at magtumbling-tumbling".


dumudugo tuloy ilong ko.

Steve Nash Still Bleeding

from the onion


nood naman kayo mamaya, ha. tugtog los chupacabras dito:

May 19, Freedom Bar, Anonas, 8 pm onwards

Multi-talented Seymour Barros Sanchez, popularly known as "Meyor," is an
engineer, a professor, a writer and an advocacy filmmaker. The former editor
in chief of the *Philippine Collegian *of the University of the Philippines
has honed his superior writing talents to direct and co-write several films
that reflect not only his talent but his passion for advocacy.

BANNED MOVIES PILIPINAS, independent film and music vehicle, and home of
indie film premieres, is proud to premiere feature Meyor Sanchez and his
films this coming May 19 at Freedom Bar in Anonas, Quezon City.

VOTE FOR MEYOR: SANCHEZ GETS BANNED! also showcases talented indie acts Los
, Delakrus, Lem's Guitar, Paw Navarro, Morigan, Jeffplane,
Hoodlums in Robe, and many more! Look out for surprise guests.

Masarap talaga ang bawal. Get the best of film and music that is indie's
best kept secret. On May 19, 8 pm onwards, all roads lead to Freedom Bar in
Anonas, Quezon City. Tickets are at P100 each.

For inquiries and reservations, text 0917-3705454 or email banned_movies@

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

In Onion There is Strength

bored ka na ba? nalolongkot at walang makaosap? eh di daan ka sa onion para sa:

Thirsty Mayor Drinks Town's Entire Water Supply
May 4, 2007 | Issue 43•18

ARDMORE, OK—Saying he was "just really thirsty," Mayor Earl Moore apologized to his constituents Tuesday after drinking the entire 1.5-million-gallon water supply housed in the town's water tower.

"I apologize that my actions today have left all of you without water, and I will do everything in my power to make sure we have water tomorrow," a visibly bloated Moore told reporters. "I woke up in the middle of the night and my mouth was dry. I thought I just needed a sip of water, but I was obviously thirstier than that."


Extra-Slanty Italics Introduced For Extremely Important Words
May 3, 2007 | Issue 43•18

NEW HOPE, MN—In an attempt to address writers' ever-growing word-emphasis needs, Minnesota-based Pica Foundry has developed a new, extra-slanty italic font, design director Jordan Soderblum announced Monday.

"When writing important words, authors too often bypass regular italics in favor of all capital letters, which not only look awkward but also disrupt the flow of the text," said Soderblum, whose new italics design is slanted at a more acute 60-degree angle instead of the normal 75. "We believe that the additional 15 degrees of slant will allow authors to create a much more intense and immediate reading experience."

Peeling Onions
artwork by Lily Martin Spencer


[I Step Outside Myself]

I step outside
myself, out of my eyes,
hands, mouth, outside
of myself I
step, a bundle
of goodness and godliness
that must make good
this devilry
that has happened.

Ingeborg Bachmann
The Massachusetts Review
Spring 2006

Monday, May 14, 2007

Another Manic Monday

what kind of rule
could overthrow a fool
and leave the land
with no stain?

--Suzanne Vega, "Song of Sand"

from the PDI:

"Despite 114 dead (from ERVIs), polls ‘generally peaceful’ -- PNP"



eto pa. disturbing text from Kris Lacaba:

"My lola Gracia Licad Lanot, 89, physically-handicapped, wheelchair-bound, was unable to completely fill out her ballot because my tita was not permitted to assist her. (This is) in violation of the provision in the BEI handbook that an 'assistor' may 'fill out the ballot of an illiterate or physically-challenged person...if his/her condition is readily obvious.' This happened in Precinct 4564-A (for Barangay South Triangle) at the Kamuning Elementary School."

buti pa mga undead at mga nakalilipad, nakaboboto.


From Rosmarie Waldrop’s poem, “The Attraction of the Ground” This is a segment from the second section of her book, Lawn of Excluded Middle

The silence, which matted my hair like a room with the windows shut too long, filled with your breath. As if you didn’t need the weight of words in your lungs to keep your body from dispersing like so many molecules over an empty field. Being a woman and without history, I wanted to explore how the grain of the world runs, hoping for backward and forward, the way sentences breathe even this side of explanation. But you claimed that words absorb all perspective and blot out the view just as certain parts of the body obscure others on the curve of desire. Or again, as the message gets lost in the long run, while we still see the messenger panting, unflagging, through the centuries. I had thought it went the other way round and was surprised as he came out of my mouth in his toga, without even a raincoat. I had to lean far out the window to follow his now unencumbered course, speeding your theory towards a horizon flat and true as a spirit level.

thanks to emong de borja, who forwarded this after reading my previous ramblings on the I.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Karma Chameleon

Some of my poems are up in Softblow Online Poetry Magazine.

Huge thanks to editors Cyril Wong and Jason Wee for inviting me to submit and for accommodating my stuff.

also fresh in the website are the poems of Corey Mesler. I'm re-posting the wasak one below.

It's Tristan Tzara's Birthday

   "The universe is like a safe to which there is a combination.
    But the combination is locked up in the safe." - Peter DeVries

It's Tristan Tzara's birthday
and I've placed a candle on the head
of the dog. The light coming
in the window is bent like mythology,
I say to the typewriter as he
eats his breakfast of Kurds and Wave.
The party starts when the clock
winds up. His pitch is far from the plate,
the plate the typewriter is eating
from. Suddenly, a neighbor bursts in.
He's carrying the new bazooka.
"It's Tristan Tzara's birthday," he shouts.
We gathered there spook him with a
well-placed suicide note. Still the
candle burns down to its earthy stub.
Still the typewriter goes on eating.
And the dog picks up the tab, the
one sitting uneasily above the Caps Lock.
Before sleeping we whisper, it was
Tristan Tzara's birthday and we sleep
to wake. Far away the ocean begins to sink.


btw, i just realized that the thief who had broken into my apartment had also taken my one and only watch.

makakarma ka rin, animal!!!

The I in Poetry

“In the best poetry of our time—but only in the best—one is aware of a moral pressure exerted on the medium, in the very act of creation. By “moral,” I mean a testing of existence at its highest pitch—what does it feel like to be totally oneself?; an awareness of others beyond the self; a concern with values and meaning rather that with effects; an effort to tap the spontaneity that hides in the depths rather than what forms on the surface; a conviction about the possibility of making right and wrong choices. Lacking this pressure, we are left with nothing but a vacuum occupied by technique.”

--Stanley Kunitz

The quote above was forwarded to me by Ma’am Marjorie Evasco a couple of weeks ago. It got me thinking about pursuing certain non-academic, “isms”-deprived thoughts on poetry that I’ve been tinkering with in the past few months, beginning with that longish essay on Lorca’s Duende some entries back.

This is likewise a rumination of sorts on ayer's and /spin's discussion on the I. Warning: terribly personal and unadulterated ramblings below.


I think the great challenge of contemporary literature is to “de-familiarize,” to look at the commonplace in a different light. Experimentation is what the artist can do, at best. In the end, it is never really about saying something new and unique and invented; it’s about saying something familiar, something recognizable. Creative-ness, not creation. And when it comes to poetry, this works oftentimes in terms of manipulations with language, as, I would think, it works for the visual artist tinkering with strokes, hues, media.

Ultimately, subject matter overrules craft. While art is phrased side-by-side with craft, it is distinctively not craft. This is, of course, not a matter of dilemma or ambivalence, but of a collective “human” understanding that art is impossible to define denotatively.

Few other concepts can best describe our humanity more than art appreciation does—simply because art detests the sure and the factual. Critics of certain critical modes would always fall back on the intellectual (re: the tangible, what’s there). The product, the piece, is supposed to stand on its own, evolved two feet, with the artist dead.

The Enduring I

But the I in poetry and its willingness to transform to the We or the Us, has always been an intertwining principle both in the writing of and reading of poetry. Without the I’s presence and the writer's and reader’s recognition of the process it needs to follow toward the universal and the human, no poet in history deserves any praise or recognition—because the point of all poetry, if this perspective is to be championed, is to simply be: academic and intellectual, "virtually" devoid of audience, completely anonymous, a news report that’s never to see print.

The I must endure; there must always be the resonating voice (more on this later) of the poet hovering above the printed poem. Not to say that this should be taken literally to funnel directly to the poet—worse, to mean that the poet is to be given free rein to write anything he or she pleases for reasons often used by most aspiring artists to validate their work (i.e., the sheer need to express; to achieve fame and “immortality”; and to channel a commentary or forward an agenda).

But methinks poetry should never be a "planned" vehicle for propaganda. Some writer I was introduced to just a few days ago, upon hearing my name, said: “Ah, yes, I know you; you’re that Americanized poet, the one who writes in English. Let’s talk about that some time.” I just smiled back politely, saying, yes, that’s me, and agreed to talk about it soon.

The funny thing about it is how quickly he summarily labeled me as “Americanized” just because I don’t write in my native tongue.

Writing in English has never been a political decision for me; it is simply a preference that does not seek to (and hopefully shouldn’t) undermine other Filipino poets, most especially those writing in Filipino. If anything, the fact that many local poets are now gaining recognition for poetry in English may, in itself, be considered as a subversive act of “conquering the language” of the oppressors. Personally, I value more the craft and the discipline that comes with the learning—the training, if you will. And I don’t have enough of that in as far as writing poetry in Filipino goes. There are a lot of good poets out there trained for that.

I did try writing poems in Filipino—more than a decade ago—some of which were published in Ng magazine and the U.P. Philippine Collegian:

Sa Embassy

May isawan pala dito sa loob.
    "manok ba 'yan o baboy?"
umiling lang ang pawisang tindera.
    "malakas ba'ng benta?"
napangiti siya.
    "bumibili rin ba sila?"
bawal daw.

    "ba't puro pahalang ang salansan ng mga bituka?"
para natural, aniya.

Pabili nga.


“Poetry is not for those who write it, but for those who need it.”

So goes the quote from the Italian film, Il Postino. To which Neruda gasps and replies, “I appreciate that highly democratic sentiment.”

Many misconstrue this to mean that if a poem is for a good cause, it is good poetry. It also implies that the poet does not matter after the work is done. The context of the scene is that of the postman Mario insisting that Neruda write a poem for Matilde, the woman Mario is obsessed with.

The paradox here (outside the lame romantic context of that scene) is that while it states that craft and the poet are both not important, it subtly footnotes that the work itself may likewise be unimportant. What’s problematic about this is that it reduces the duty of the poet to that of instigator, whose “pre-meditated message” matters above all else, whose craft is excused from criticism because of the “honorable cause” the poem is pursuing. Furthermore, it permits poetry a pure, conscious effort to so-quickly mean.

Whenever this happens, not only is the I lost; the poem’s artfulness is, as well. This I think equates to nothing more than a deliberate exploitation of poetry, a by-passing of the discipline. Poetry then becomes mere rhetoric, the stuff of speech-writers, everything poetry stands against. In the end, this whole idea posits that poems should simply be literal—discarding heightened language, the elements of literature, the poet’s style. All in all, a dismissing of craft.

And while I said earlier that ultimately, subject matter does overrule craft, the crystallizing of subject matter more often than not happens during the process of writing the poem, not before. Words are not inert images; with the imagining and re-imagining of syntax, the putting together of words, a line, an entire stanza, come the “charging,” the elevation of words to symbolism, the discovery of subject matter.


The common belief is that art that becomes popular is not anymore art. Art, in a way, struggles with the dilemma between popularity and obscurity. Some therefore think that for art to retain its “artfulness,” it must preserve its so-called integrity by being difficult and snobbishly un-popular. In contrast, there’s that highly democratic (that phrase again) school of thought that believes that the message should cascade down to the masses. I have nothing against this latter ideal; everyone is and should be a possible reader.

In the middle of the two is the medium, what McLuhan years back insisted to be, in itself, the message. Yet I am reluctant to think about poetry this way. A poem can be totally imagined or forwardly confessional, but the point is still the process the poet follows and disciplines himself for in order to arrive at an insight. The respect he or she gets or loses in the risk of “publishing” a poem does not point to the work per se, but to the ability of the poet to master craft and transcend it in a way that the urgency and immediacy of the subject matter overrides everything else. Thus, one who reads poetry purely for technique is one missing the humanizing possibility of all literature, the idea of making someone moved, then aware, then ready to act if he then feels he has to.

This is not to say that real experience is not important. Experiences will guide the poet’s diction, imagery, tone, whether he or she wants it to or not. Even the re-imagining of a poem is an aspect of experience. For example, it might not seem believable if a Filipino poet uses a Baobab tree or snow in a poem set in some local province. But he or she might be able to write sincerely about it because he or she has seen it on TV, has read about it in a book, etc. While I am not one to indulge this idea, I think it is permissible. To paraphrase Eric Gamalinda, memory is an empire. And if I may add, so is dreaming. And so is the imagining.

Any poet’s wanderlust into his or her medium, assuming that he or she is dextrose-serious about writing poetry, is largely geared toward the arrival at that distinct style. Whenever one “intellectually” appreciates a painting, music, or a poem, he or she is recognizing style and technique. Certain paradigms, however, treat style as a mere ornament, the artist’s so-called “conceit”.

Ben Yagoda’s recent book, Style and the Voice in Writing lambasts the clinical-ness of that Strunk and White book (the title of which is a paradox in itself), The Elements of Style, insisting instead on the distinctiveness of the author, permitting all the scholarship built around a famous writer’s works—that particular and individual voice that makes a Hemingway story Hemingway-ish or a Kafka novel, well, Kafkaesque.

This may be true in most prose, but then I still believe that the I in poetry is not necessarily the poet. So while critics and academics can opt to focus on the form, the poet’s context, or the over-arcing theme of a poem, the I in the poem is still not fully addressed.

I believe it is this faceless, elusive I that channels all that which is familiar and human in poetry. The poet must rely on aspects of craft—utterances, imagery, tone, diction, etc.,—to allow the I to emerge. But the poet must learn how not to intrude upon the poem by peppering it with angst, by pontificating, or by consciously using it as a tool for an agenda.

In the end, the I must transcend the author and transform into the voice. At best, the I should then be able to tell a good, honest story, one that’s tangential to, approaches obliquely, and de-familiarizes the discovered subject matter. It may well end up being about the poet himself, an imagined scenario, some place, a concept. But ultimately it must be the I’s humanity that persists and presides, during that moment of brilliance, that which is probably passing yet ringing true: over all the experimentation, past the mastery of craft, beyond the now liberated, selfless, and mortal poet.

Still that familiar, elusive, but enduring I.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Ricochet Days

i'm compiling bits and pieces of some of the least heard (or understood) lyrics from some of the more brilliant songwriters from the punk/post-punk era. why? well, simply because it's frustrating to google lyrics just to find out that--while most of them are indeed available--they've been horrendously wronged. apparently, those "song hits," type-what-sounds correct days have yet to really go away.

1. "Hollow Horse"
    words by by Ian McNabb
    Icicle Works
    1984 (single)

the band's name by the way, was taken from SF master Frederik Pohl's 1959 (not 1960 as wikipedia says) short story, "The Day The Icicle Works Closed".

"Things I chose to value
I no longer have a use for
I ridicule myself for all the things
those symbols stood for
When vanity has played a part
in every leader's downfall
Wait to storm the gates, what's left
undone to hang around for"

"We'll be as we are
When all the fools
who doubt us fade away
Fortune deep and wide
Intimidated, restless in the wait"

2. "Perfect"
    words by Matt Johnson
    The The
    Soul Mining

features the brilliant harmonica playing of ex-New York Doll, David Johanson.

"Passing by a cemetery,
I think of all the little hopes and dreams,
That lie lifeless and unfilled beneath the soil.
I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh.
He tells himself he was a good man and did good things.
Amused and confused by life's little ironies,
He swallows his bottle of distilled damnation."

"Oh, what a perfect day,
To think about myself
My feet are firmly screwed to the floor.
What is there to fear from such a regular world?"

3. "Tears"
    words by Mark Burgess
    The Chameleons UK
    Strange Times

i remember The Dawn covering this during one of their early gigs. lourd tells me jet pangan was rollicking into an '80s trip a few days ago in a Big Sky Mind gig, wailing to The Cult's "She Sells Sanctuary" and U2's "I Will Follow". hehehe.

"Kicking out the chaos and gloom
Carry me home
I'll watch the ceiling spin round the room
Carry me home
Can you tell me how will it be now?
How will it be?"

"In the real world how will it be?
In a cold world how will it be?
In a lonely world
(Beg and crawl)
How will it be?
Will the ghosts just stop
Following me?"

4. "Tinseltown in The Rain "
    words by Paul Buchanan
    The Blue Nile
    A Walk Across the Rooftops

while many claim that their 2004 album ,High was great, this debut effort immediately catapulted Buchanan into stardom. The single, "Stay" was one of the more popular anthems from the era.

"Tinseltown in the rain
Oh men and women
Here we are, caught up in this big rhythm

One day this love will all blow over
Time for leaving the parade
Is there a place in this city
A place to always feel this way?
And hey, there's a red car in the fountain"

5. "Through The Barricades"
    words by Gary Kemp
    Spandau Ballet
    Through The Barricades

quite the popular SB hit during its heyday. But have you really sat down to ruminate on its sonorous acoustic guitar intro, the marching band ending and, well, the wonderful lyrics? btw, correct me if i'm wrong , but wasn't that Gary Kemp playing guitars on the opening video of the hollywood movie, Music and Lyrics?

"Oh, turn around and I'll be there
Theres a scar right through my heart
But I'll bare it again
Well we thought we were the human race
But we were just another borderline case
And the stars reach down and tell us
That there's always one escape

"I don't know where love has gone
But in this trouble land
Desperation keep us strong
Friday's child is full of soul
With nothing left to lose
Theres everything to go"

next time: The Alarm, Modern English, Prefab Sprout, Aztec Camera

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

wasak na wasak na wasak na naman.

thanks a heap to all who went to mag:net last night. unprecedented number of readers. among those who also came and read were Ramil Gulle, Andrea Teran, Peachy Paderna, Keith Cortez, and Ken Ishikawa.

some photos below, care of corin. check out her blog for other pics.

gracias to those who stayed for the los chupacabras gig. kainis lang na gabi na nagsimula and most had to pay the entrance fee. for the next reading on may 21, wala nang entrance fee and the reading will start at 7pm. so please come and continue supporting this.

for the record, leybor op lab lang lahat ito; i'm not getting anything from mag:net for hosting; the idea is to just pool together established and up and coming poets for a twice-a-month cause that hopefully de-politicizes poetry. kaya kung trip nyo magbasa, at sana mag emcee, punta lang kayo. walang exclusivity factor dito. ahehe...

by the way, Dapitan Poetry and Prose out now. grab your copies. maraming salamat kina Eric Melendez at sa buong Thomasian Writers Guild. At Mike, salamat sa pagpapahiram ng cymbals at snare.

Monday, May 07, 2007

Bato Balani, Bayaw!

paalala lang. mamaya na 'to:


some photos from baguio:




"mine's view". ahehe.