Shyne17’s Weblog

“I’m sorry Sandy, your biopsy is positive for breast cancer.” It was hard for me to tell her that, but I had to. After the awkward moment in her clinical breast examination, I was suspicious of the pain that she complained of, as well as its texture which we doctors referred to as peau d’orange.

Sandy had been to two doctors, but she still wanted my opinion. I was surprised when I saw her name on my patient list. She had not changed much; she looked the same back when we were in medical school. Her hair was still very black and shiny that which had once caused my batch mates fail their subjects just to win her. Her hair smelled good enough to eat.

I never courted Sandy, but her break-up with my room mate caused us to be close to each other and eventually, become lovers. The people around us were against our relationship, especially my room mate Enrico who later transferred to another apartment to avoid me and Sandy. There in the room, Sandy and I spent the nights together. During those nights, I always relished the smell of her hair while she did her laboratory reports and projects.

Sandy was not doing well in school, and our relationship turned sour after I learned that she had plans of shifting to Nursing. She eventually went abroad to work, later married a fellow Filipino nurse. On the other hand, I was living my own life too. I became an oncologist and made money because of cancer.

“Sandy, you will have to undergo partial mastectomy. The lump and surrounding breast tissues need to be removed.”

She cried and hugged me, without letting me finish my explanation. I comforted her like before when she received failing marks in exams.

I processed the surgery quickly. Only the best people in our field handled her. The mastectomy was done at last. However, she still came to my office for check-up.

Since I found out that the cancer cells had spread to her lymph nodes, I immediately recommended chemotherapy. She underwent the process and after a number of sessions, her once beautiful hair lost its shine and vibrance. She was worried as she came to me, concerned about her hair.

I explained to her, “chemotherapeutic drugs effectively kill cancerous cells, but they also attack healthy cells that tend to divide rapidly, such as those found in hair follicles, the mouth, the digestive system, and bone marrow. As these healthy cells die, unpleasant side effects develop. One common side effect is hair loss.”

“So you mean I will soon become bald?” she said in disbelief as she touched her long hair.

The scent of her thinning hair wafted across the table.

“Don’t worry. It will grow back,” I assured her and thought about the cancer cells.

The Pleasure of Sucking

Andres now lies in your operating table after the washing of his body. He lies there lifeless and pale. The cosmetic work is used to restore injured facial features, but for him that is unnecessary. You have already mixed 16 ounces of formaldehyde with 1.5 gallons of water. The only thing for you to do now is to embalm him– this is your specialty.

First, you remove all the blood and gases from his body and insert the disinfecting fluid. Then you remove the viscera and immerse in an embalming fluid and then replace the viscera in the body, where it is surrounded with preservative powder.

You remember how he had taken your wife and daughter away from you.

It all started when he invited your wife to his church. When your wife came back, she then tried to convert you too. Your only daughter, Beatrice came with her to the rituals. After several months of their worship, Beatrice was given the honor to be a candidate in the holy sacrifice. Your wife and your daughter agreed but you tried everything to stop it since you had heard from gossips that the cult kills their sacrifice and eats them.

You turn your embalming machine on. You remember how you went to the church of the cult to rescue Beatrice. Your wife explained to you that you will be blessed by god if you just let Beatrice go. She told you that they believe that the person who ate the corpse in the ritual would acquire the desired qualities of the person eaten, particularly her beauty, pure heart, and youth.

You agree that your beautiful Beatrice was perfect for their sacrifice— eighteen years old, kind, and loving. All that Beatrice wanted when she was younger was a lollipop that you brought home for her after work. But when she grew older, no matter what you brought home for her, she would always be tagging along with her mother.

You insert the trocar inches above the umbilicus. You start to clean out the hollow organs. After that, you remove the trocar, turn it around, and insert it into the lower body, aspirating the contents of the large intestine, and bladder. You remove the trocar again and was about to inject the cavity fluid when you remember what your wife said before the night the cult murdered her for trying to leave the cult.

“In few instances, the eating during the ritual might have been dictated by no other motive than revenge. It was even believed that an enemy’s spirit would be utterly destroyed if the body were eaten, thus leaving nothing in which the soul could live.”

You take the cutting knife and then you stab Andres on his stomach. He deserves that. Now, you think of taking his heart and sucking all the blood from it before you tear it with your teeth. But you are disgusted to do that, you would rather give his chopped body to your hungry dogs.

(In the elevator)- Nicole Hilton, a famous ramp model enters the elevator. She wears a red knee length dress and black stiletto shoes.

(On the forty ninth floor, the door of the elevator opens. A man in a business suit enters. He recognizes the model and smiles. )

(The model smiles back.)

Man: Aren’t you the famous ramp model?

(the lady responds with a subtle smile maintaining her poise)

Man: You are indeed so beautiful! Are you still the face for that Chanel perfume?

Nicole: Yes, can’t you smell it. It’s Chanel number 45.

Man: Seems like today is my day.

(flirts)

(silence)

Nicole: I think a rat died somewhere here.

( covering her nose.)

Man: Maybe. But I thought I was on one of the best hotel in the world.

(covering his nose too.)

Nicole: Wherever we go, there are always pests like rats. Or maybe this smell is not a rat, maybe an insect.

Man: I don’t think so. It doesn’t smell like a dead rat.

Nicole: Well, I have never smelled a rat. But what could smell something like that? O.. maybe a decomposing garbage.

Man: Well, I can’t see anything here. No garbage, nothing.

Nicole: It must have stuck somewhere. Or maybe the people who used this elevator smells bad, and their smells were left in this room.

Man: I think it’s getting worse.

Nicole: Come on. Admit it, you farted!

Man: Me? I think it’s you.

Nicole: Did you even change your socks? I’m a model, I use $200 Chanel perfume, L’oreal

shampoo and Victoria’s Secret body wash, and then I enter this room just to smell this

god-knows-what grossy thing! Oh, I’m so disappointed with this hotel!

Man: So am I. Excuse me, I have to go out. I have to leave this room.

Nicole: Me too, I’ll use the stairs instead.

(The man exits. The door closes.)

Ahrrrgh. Never will I eat camote again!

——–Well, funny sya pero mas marami pa mas maganda dito. It’s from our playwriting class and enjoy din yung sa other groups. Group mates ko sila Te Arvi at Edwin ( na hindi tumulong sa pag gawa) kaya happy ang mga moments..

Play the Field

By shyne and Mau

The mirror says you’re alright

Think you’re already set

But your stomach is not

And you’re afraid to smile and look stupid.

And you’re afraid to smile and look stupid.

Chorus:

Spark up! Trust the fire that is inside you.

Spark up! Hold the glow that you possess.

Spark up! Trust the fire that is inside you.

Spark up! Feel the heat and play the field.

If a shoe hits your face

Face the crowd and kick back

Act as if you’re okay

Don’t be afraid to fight back, ‘coz it’s a game

Don’t be afraid to fight back, ‘coz it’s  a game

Chorus

Bridge:

It’s our life that we play

A rough game

There’s always

Time out, foul and offense

It’s inevitable

Just always be cool

Quitting now will never get you any further

Play the field and don’t you ever give up.

Chorus

Feel the heat and play the field

Turo ng pinsan kong wais (na itago na lang natin sa pangalang Luman) habang kami ay namimili sa isang tyangge: “Wag ka talagang magpakita ng interes sa mga gusto mong bilhin na gamit, pag nakita ng nagbebebnta na gusto mo ang isang produkto nya, mamahalan nya ‘yung produkto.” Bigla akong nakapag-isip. Kaya naman pala konti lang ang natatawad ko eh,minsan wala pa, kasi naman pag may gusto ako sa sabihin ko agad sa kasama ko: “Hala! Ang ganda! Bagay to dun sa isa kong skirt.” Sabay tanong sa tindera,“ Magkano po to?”. Syempre,tataasan nya ang presyo. At kahit na tumawad ako ay hindi talaga ibababa ng tindera. Ayun natuto na ako sa sinabi ng pinsan ko. Syempre, economic crisis nga daw, dapat wais aka Lumen sa Surf na ang lahat ng tao. Yang mga nagbebenta namang yan ay hindi naman papapayag na ibigay sayo ang tinda nila kung wala silang tubo. Kahit pa sabihin naman na wala silang tubo ay meron parin naman yan, konti nga lang siguro. Isa pang payo ni Lumen sa akin ay dapat daw pag tumawad ay siguraduhing mababa ng husto ang presyong sisimulan dahil patataasan din talaga yan ng tindera.Pag nagumpisa ka sa sobrang babang presyo, aabot ang tawaran sa isang mababang presyo. Halimbawa: “Ano? Tatlong daan? Pwede isang daan na lang po?.” Mamumutla ang tindera, sasabihin na mahal ang kuha nila, at kung anu-ano pa. Pero sa huli, makukuha ang produkto ng dalawang daan hanggang dalawang daan, singkenta piso. Nakatipid ang bumili. Ang hindi ko lamang maintindihan sa ibang tao ay bakit bago tawaran ay hahanapan pa ng sira ang paninda. Halimbawa, sa canteen: “Ate, sampung piso na lang po to, huling piraso na naman yan eh.” O di kaya, sa damit: “Ate, isang daan na lang po to o, old stock na rin naman po eh.” Kaloka! Aba naman, hindi naman napapanis ang damit kung old stock na ito at ano naman ang kinalaman ng pagiging huling piraso ng manok sa kanyang presyo? Kung ako ang tindera, maiimbyerna talaga ako. Bakit kasi sisiraan pa yung produkto? Para sa akin, mas katanggap-tanggap pa yung estilong kunwari ay aalis na lang kung hindi ibibigay ang presyong gusto. Bagalan lang ang paglakad, at tatawagin ka agad ng nagbebenta. Ang masakit nga lang ay kung hindi ka pipigilan ng nagbebenta. Patigasan na lang. Ang problema ay kung kaylangan mo o gusto mo talaga ang produkto, edi ang pride ay lunukin na lang. Kung mapride ka talaga, pwede rin namang itaon mo na ibang tindera ang magbenta sayo. Bilhin mo agad at alis. At ayon sa aking karanasan, mahirap lang bantayan ang pag alis ng unang tindera. Ang mga Pilipino talaga sa kabuuan ay matatalino, ang masakit na parte ay ito: dahil sa sobrang talino, nagagamit ito para manloko ng kapwa. Dahil sa panloloko ng ibang tao sa mga niloloko, natututo na ang mga naloloko at sila rin ay unti-unting nagiging mga manloloko. Ang labas, lahat na ng Pilipino ay manloloko. Kaya siguro isa tayo sa nangungunang bansa na nasa “Most Corrupt Countries” kasi nga ang mga lider ay manloloko, na ginagaya din ng mga simpleng tao.

Sabi ng aming guro noon, ang mga Pilipino ay mayroong malalang sakit, ang Plaza Complex.Ito ay ang ugaling Pilipino na ipagmalaki ang mga bagong kasangkapan, ang mga magagandang katangian, at kunga anu-ano pang pwedeng ipagmalaki sa ibang tao sa “Plaza”.

Sa tingin ko, ang bagong katumbas ng Plaza ngayon ay ang Mall. Halimbawa, sasabihin ng isang kaibigan na may nobya na sya, ang itatanong ng ibang kaibigan ay eto: “Pwede ba naman syang ipasyal sa mall?”. Hindi man lang muna tatanungin kung mahal ba talaga ng kaibigan nila, kung mabait ba etc., ang importante, pwedeng ipasyal sa mall.

Ang mga bibilhing damit ay yong branded, at ang pipiliin na damit ay young may mga nakasulat na Jag, Kamiseta, Lee, Gucci, at kung anu-ano pang brand ng damit sa harap. Ito ang isinusuot sa mga reunion at kung anu-ano pang mga kasiyahan para daw sabihin na ikaw ay sosyal o umasenso na.

Sa isang banda, wala ni isang Pilipino ang nagsusuot ng barong o baro’t saya sa araw-araw, maliban na lamang kung patay ka na at nasa kabaong, abogado ka, o costume iyon sa isang pagtatanghal.

Pagdating naman sa ating mga bahay, lahat ng magagandang gamit ng bahay ay nasa sala o di kaya sa kusina, kahit saan, basta mayroong mga bisitang makakakita. Ang mga porselana at mamahaling pinggan ay nakalagay sa aparador at nakasalamin para makita talaga. Habang ang gagamitin sa ordinaryong mga araw ay iyong mga mumurahin lamang.

Mayroon ding mga bahay na naglalagay ng mga sirang gamit sa sala kahit pa sira na ito. Mga grandfather clock, mga makinilya, o telebisyon- lahat, ilalagay parin basta maganda tingnan, kahit pa hindi na ito gumagana.

Isan pang kalokohan na ginagawa ng mga Pilipino ay ang paglalagay ng mga medalya, diploma, trophy ay kung anu-ano pang nakuha ng kanilang mga anak sa paaralan. Hindi lamang yon, lahat ng ito ay dapat naka laminate, para sosyal na naman.

Meron ding mga pamilyang mayroong mga album na nakalagay sa ilalim ng mesa doon sa sala. Sa mga litratong iyon makikita ang mga napuntahan nang lugar ng mga miyembro ng pamilya. Sisiguraduhin din muna ng mga maybahay na ang mga larawan na nandun ay iyong mga sosyal lamang at maipagmamalaki. Ang mga nakakahiyang litrato ay nasa loob ng kwarto, nakatago.

Dahil mahirap magkaroon ng mataas na antas sa Plaza, maraming mga Pilipino ang nagkakaroon ng mas malalang sakit na kung tawagin ay crab-mentality. Ang crab-mentality ay sakit ng mga taong gusto talaga ng posisyon sa Plaza, at ayaw nila sa mga taong mas nakakataas sa kanila.

Naipaliwanag noon ng aming guro na marahil itong Plaza Complex ay nag-ugat sa ating pagsasailalim noon sa mga Espanyol. Dahil dito, maraming mga Pilipino ang gustong maging katulad ng mga Espanyol, mapuputi at may maipagmamalaki. Bagamat matagal na tayong malaya mula sa kanila, ang mga tradisyon ng mga ninuno ay hindi nawawala sa ating mga modernong Pilipino.

Time passed so quickly. Its just seems like yesterday that I was very nervous about writing my first Haiku. Yes, It is just short, but its is a crucial stage for an aspiring writer- the first poem. I believe that I could not call myself a poet because most of my work did not really meet up the expectations of a true poem. Anyway, it is commonly stated that a writer is made not born, therefore I strongly believe that I could be one someday. Though there are people who are born with a good ear, with will and patience, I believe that I will master the manipulation of words.

Maybe will and patience are essential in becoming a poet, however, as an aspiring poet, experience and sightings are needed to write a good poem. Reading will be a very good way to experience things that I could not try and see things or places that I could not go to or see. The problem that I can see in myself is that I read books with similar topics, those that I only like. Usually, I end up reading so many books that I like that I end up gaining no new information that is essential in reading. I know that it’s an unhealthy habit  and unproductive, so I am trying hard to be open to more topics.

Writing needs a brain that could render any topic. Sometimes, no matter how much a writer focus on making a poem or write, there are still some words that is staying at the tip of the tongue but the pen refuses to drip it on the paper. But there is a harder situation that that, it is when you have many things to write but the pen could not lust keep track of what your mind dictates. Sometimes it is also hard when you are bounded by so many rules.

Rules are hard to follow sometimes, but life is easier with rules. Every time we are required to do a metered poem, i hear some of my classmates commenting on how they dislike metered poems. However, on my part I love making metered poems. I always feel  challenged in making it. In a reading in this subject it is said that Robert Frost commented that writing poetry without form is like playing tennis without a net. It is uncomplicated thus giving no sense of fulfillment. I absolutely agree with him as I love making rhymes and the way it sounds when it is read.  Though metered poems bounds a poet in his ideas, I believe that too much freedom is not freedom anymore.

Actually, I feel that it is easier to write in metered. In free verse, I feel that I should be cautious of line cutting, defending why the line cutting is that is needed, unlike in metered,wherein one can get away with it because of the syllabication.

Also, as an amateur writer and a “wanna-be-poet” like me, one needs to know the traditional way of writing poetry before defying it. One of the reasons why I like the metered poems is that because while making it I discover more things from the experience or the idea that is not there yet in the original. It is also true about the free verse, but if a writer uses free verse, he already had an idea in his mind, and because there are no obstacles or rules to follow, he ends up making whatever he feels like writing.

Whatever one writer feels or remembers, those are still essential to what he writes, however, as Oscar Wilde once said, “all bad poetry springs from genuine feeling”. Sometimes, I can say that I tend to be too emotional, but it is hard to choose the words meter and style that I would like to convey to my readers. It is depressing sometimes that all my poems seems to be a funny poem as my classmates read them, even the serious ones. It is also sometimes very amazing that my readers interpret my poem in a deeper way than what I have intended to do. That makes me sometimes wonder if the famous poets really wrote their famous pieces that way or is it just something that the present readers invented.

In writing my pieces, ( as I still don’t have the courage to call them poems)  I usually see to it that I go out and look at the scenes around me, especially on the nature poems. On the part of the love and hate metered poems, those are just long time feelings that I haven’t yet discovered and acknowledged. On the Haiku, as it is a traditional nature poem, while I am alone, I tried to look at the things around me. I did it when I was alone as a haiku usually reflects simplicity and loneliness.

On the piece “On a Road” , it went a revision wherein I inserted some information about tracing the stinky smell. In the first draft, I just mentioned the stinky smell, but on the edited version, I really mentioned where it came from. Another poem that went a revision is the poem entitled, “The Newspaper Boy”, wherein I later changed the point of view and the title itself. “The Newspaper Boy” then became “My Newspaper Boy” which I changed the point of view from the first person point of view to the third person. In the revision it is now a girlfriend that speaks. Then, the rest of my pieces are made clearer on the revision as I had the tendency to be vague and unclear about things.

Editing is like the polishing or the cutting in a diamond that makes a diamond beautiful. It is very important. The workshop really helped me a lot. However, it is hard to differentiate the wrong from the right suggestions. I am not sure what to follow and what not to. Some comments from the class helped me a lot on my poems. Some opinions, sad to say, made me more confused on what to do.

All in all, poetry as a subject helped me not only in writing but in my way of thinking, it seems that one needs to be very logical in making poems.

Metered Poems (5)

Manang’s Memories

(Lyric Dialog)

Years ago before I left you,

You cried so that i could not go.

Below, you grasped my knees with grief

So that I would not leave.

I just remember it before,

You were coming with sores,

there running, shouting like crazy

“ants-they’re itchy!”

When I feed you avocados

You ran away to a barrio

riding your newest bicycle

because you liked popsicle.

“Thank You for all you’ve done for me,

It hurts me to see you that way.”

What you just said gave me strength to live life more.

I’m amazed, glad, and somewhat sad

That you are here now; a good lad,

It’s just that time passed me so fast,

But I know past is past.

Last Night’s Awakening

(Shakespearean)

In times like this, I just feel like screaming,

because he is carefree and very happy.

There, the crowd’s the cake and he’s the icing,

While here I am stressed and looks so crappy.

He is someone so hot and I am not.

Every girl’s head will turn as he pass by,

from nerds, even up to the campus slut.

But he’ll just leave- all deceived by a lie.

Rumors says he’s never been in love,

Never been to any relationship

Like me, many asked for him from above,

and at nights we deprive ourselves of sleep.

Poor us! How can love one of us back?

When I saw him kissing a man in black.

Haiku 1

Lizard on the bench,

Alone and proudly crawling-

But it has no tail.

Haiku 2

Lamp posts glows like stars

and the raindrops falling tears;

all came with darkness.

Caged

(Petriarchan)

You are a god while performing at stage,

Master of your guitar and band.

Everyone in the club knows you are grand,

All sways  to music, setting aside age.

Through your music, you put me in a cage,

Captured- though this I know you never planned,

Because If she knows this she’ll be in rage.

But tonight, I’ll be singing and swinging.

In my confinement I will be merry,

Thankful for every little thing you bring.

That smile at me, I will give no meaning.

But this night I will forever carry,

and when I think of her, there’s no pity.

Free Verse Poems (10)

The Keeper

Black electric tape

it covered, it surrounded

the green live wire

from that, there-

it helps lives

then kills.

The Nagging

A small glimpse of light awakened me,

like the way my mother used to nag me.

As I saw the bright clouds from the window,

it reminded me of moving

and go to the four walls

that would awaken me-the nagging water

in the bathroom.

The Highest Throne

Foggy morning and sun still hiding,

Women with wet hair fresh from the shower.

It seems that that coldness like the birds flying: now leaving

Everyone- men women, children, have their hair drier

And the sun is here again to gain its reign.

A Doorknob’s Confession

How I wish I could jump off from this door,

I always get stinky and dirty.

Now I admit though it’s hard to accept,

To be the most ill-fated of my kind.

If only everyone could be a little hygienic,

If only you could wash your hand before and after,

Perhaps, I’ll be happier than ever.

Grease Cleaning

Is stomach the only way to a man’s heart?

There are unwashed plates in the sink.

Like them, my hope is waiting

to be cleaned from its greasiness.

And when could I get to your heart?

It’s hard to wash the grease off the plates,

As hard as letting you come and go.

The plates are all washed now; clean.

But anytime you want, I’ll cook for you,

The plates are ready to be used

in serving again.

On A Starless Night

Black ants crawling fast on the mossy trunks

Of the big and shady Durian tree.

The full moon beams on everything

When a black bird flies on the dark sky

That later camouflaged high above.

A Life Cycle

(Dialog)

I need money Pa, I need money Ma,

I need to see something I should not miss.

It seemed to me that you don’t believe me,

But I swear to you two, it is true.

We gave you money enough for some weeks,

That was only three days ago, Oh no!

That’s why you come home late every evening

Baby, please end all those parties and trips.

Please finish all your useless tips,

then give me money so you could go too,

Leave me here alone as you always do

Then I’ll party all year without a skip.

My husband wake up! I had a nightmare,

About our baby in my womb this night.

She’s really like me, yes it should be fair,

but I hate it, her future is not that bright.

“Stop darling, it’s just worry that you create.

She will inherit your positive traits

and like you before, she’ll be a good lass.

Our baby will grow full of love from us.”

I will call my mom, she’ll wake up right now,

She’s been through this all, she knows what to do.

Hello mommy, help me, what should I do?

What if she’ll be like me- stubborn one too?

“There- you will reap what you sow my daughter,

But remember, dreams are far from the truth.

My weapon against evil is prayer,

I prayed long ago when you were bitter.”

My Newspaper Boy

Pedaling his bicycle today,

he tries to deliver the news on time.

On the bumpy road the ink smells

As fresh printed paper is on the way.

He must deliver it on time

To have coffee and bread-

To be with me.

Here Comes the Typhoon

Your old bicycle is rusty now,

The avocado tree,

That we used as shade

Is now dead,

destroyed .

Playing in our tree house,

you said

“our little family,

will live a thousand years more.”

I smiled to you

then agreed back,

“yes, no one could destroy this.”

The typhoon destroyed

Our little family.

Just like the way

It wants you to be

destroyed in my memory.

On a Road

The jeepney stinks as I travel,

Maybe it’s the man on my left.

I feel the heat in the morning;

It’s freshness was ruined by things

That’s about to spoil the new day.

The jeepney stops, then the man pays,

And my day was back to its fresh start.

Everything was like a fast forward. The class started and ended so fast. There are many good things that happened in Poetry II class. The basics are left in poetry I and at the start of the semester we all became ready for a higher level of criticism and praises.

When the class started with a report about a chosen poet, everyone became excited to know about their lives looking at the possible things that would happen to us if we really stick to poetry.

Even though we are to criticize each other in class, we really try not to hurt each other’s feelings. I believe that our class is successful in this part. In class we are required to pass fifteen poems with different topics, there should be a water poem, fire poem, earth poem, air poem, night, happy death, sports, end of love, god, angry child, painting, sculpture, intertext, and poems with allusion. Among the entire required poem, I really had a hard time making the intertext and poem with allusion. I could not fully understand the requirement for these poems.

My water poem was first entitled Before the Destination . There the speaker is thankful for the things that keep her lover alive. The setting was inside a car. After the workshop, it was commented that the title was not good and that the first stanza is already enough to sustain the poem. It also changed the word enter into put as it was the appropriate word. At first, it was like this:

Before the Destination

Water poem- free verse

As you enter the keys in the ignition

After the revision, it looked like this:

In the Car

Water poem- free verse

As you put the keys in the ignition

The topic for the next poem is about fire, The Prey has its awkward parts so I decided to omit the last part after editing some awkward lines and some typographical error. My earth poem The Glitzy Paper Plane undergone a little editing because as what my classmate in the workshop said, it was simple and its simplicity made it successful. Last Night’s Awakening, my night poem is only a recycled poem from Poetry I. I edited and shaped it again to suit the night poem. It was a Shakespearean sonnet and it has some grammatical error. When it comes to metered poem, it would be hard to change a word because it could affect the meter.

My happy poem, talks about birds and a speaker relating to their freedom. I edited some grammatical error and typographical error in it. I had a hard time writing a death poem because the last time someone in my family died, I was still a child. I still passed a death poem; it was my tribute to Francis M, a great Filipino artist. Even though the superstar in the poem is a female, it was still about him.

My sports poem about archery is something that comes from my experience, the first version of the poem has its awkward lines and maybe it was because of my spontaneous feelings for the topic.

My end of love poem entitled Poseidon’s Daughter had a big problem in its awkward lines and punctuations. I retained the title because I later discovered that it could remind the readers of the goddess Venus. My poem first look like this:

Poseidon’s Daughter

End of Love- Italian Sonnet

Your swimming in the pool with gracefulness,

You look like one of Poseidon’s daughter,

After revision, one could see that at almost every line something changed :

Poseidon’s Daughter

End of Love- Italian Sonnet

Watching you swim causes my happiness

I think, you look like Poseidon’s daughter,

My god poem was about a rape victim about to commit suicide. From its original title Traumatic Past, I changed it to A Note. I believe that this title is more appropriate as the poem looks like a suicide note. My poem A Young Slave to His Master did not undergo a major revision, along with Daughter to Mother, Coward King of Beast and Justicia.

My poem entitled A Scream looks like this on its last six lines:

The nature screams at me

Then

I saw this work by Munch

It makes me more depressed,

I cried and screamed,

And shrieked some more.

I added some new elements from nature to prove that nature screams at the speaker. I also had the poem cut to make it a two- stanza poem. However, I retained some lines because I believe that they would still be effective:

Nature screams at me.

The sound of the

Waves in the ocean

Impairs my ears.

Then,

I saw this work by Munch

It depresses me more.

So I cried, screamed,

And shrieked some more.

The improvement of my poems depends on the comments done by the teacher and classmate. My choices in who would I follow or believe in would also matter, however, the experience in class wherein I had fun while improving my skill was incomparable to the grade that I would get after the semester. I have always looked forward to every class in Poetry because I know that I would learn something new again and I have my classmates who criticize my poems in a soft manner. I felt so fortunate to belong in my poetry class because a graduate of this course mentioned before that even until now, the fights and insults they had in poetry still remained in their minds.

“I really enjoyed my poetry class”, this would be what I’m going to say to the lower years or to people who would ask me about it.

In the Car

Water poem- free verse

As you put the keys in the ignition

My knees trembles at the sight of your pills,

Above the stereo, next to the steering wheel.

I wish I can be like the mineral

In the bottled water you just finished drinking,

The insulin injected in your body,

The organic food in your diet,

Or even the rain that makes you smile.

Wherever we may be leading,

I can never thank those things enough

For providing that joy in you now.

The Prey

Fire Poem- free verse

The wailing siren of the fire truck

And the thumping boots of the firemen,

Along with the sound of splashing water

To save anything occurred to me in a snap.

The thick and gray smoke rose from everywhere

And the flame looked like a lion

With a bright orange fur

Attacking its prey.

The prey is the home I have tried

To create for a long time.

The Glitzy Paper Plane

Earth Poem- free verse

I have designed a glossy paper

To fly in the skies one afternoon.

But it just went from air to earth.

The paper crushed in the mud,

Not in the trees nor in the bushes

Where it could be spotless.

Glossy paper-

Once glitzy, now soiled

About to go into the trash

And about to descent to earth.

The Philippine literature in English was started and made possible by the United States, at the end of the 19th century and establish a government based on democracy. By 1901, public education had been institutionalized in the Philippines, with English serving as the medium of instruction. Thomasites then replaced the soldiers who had been serving as the first teachers. Outside the academe, the wide availability of reading materials, such as books and newspapers in English, helped Filipinos learn the language quickly. Because of this, the Philippine literature in English emerged and gained readers. On the other hand, as Christian country because of the 332 years of Spanish rule the Philippine Literature had originally been free from Gay Literature. According to Benedict Anderson, the desire to clear the indios of the Philippines from this same intransigently occidental charge of a wildly exuberant sodomitic nature must have been part of the production of nearly all these early Spanish texts. They were also finding blame for the homosexual issues, Phelan (1959) said that the Spanish observers were insulting Sinophobes who hated the Chinese as intensely as they were dependent upon them for certain economic services. Sinophobia may be unconsciously responsible for inventing the charge that the Chinese introduced sodomy to the Filipinos. If one group is against the church or the government, they cannot find justice; this is because the printing presses were all controlled by the church and even have a strong influence in the government. However, a strong gay and lesbian literature emerged in the Philippines in the last two decades of the twentieth century. While the early Filipino poets struggles with the the new language, Filipinos seemed to have taken easily to the modern short story as published in the Philippines Free Press, the College Folio and Philippines Herald. Paz Marquez Benitez’s “Dead Stars” published in 1925 was the first successful short story in English written by a Filipino. Later on, Arturo B. Rotor and Manuel E. Arguilla showed exceptional skills in writing short stories in English. It is not surprising then that as Philippine literature has emerged, gay Philippine literature has emerged as well. Even though gay poems and stories appeared in various publications during the early years, it wasn’t until the 1990s that books on gay themes began to be issued by Philippine publishers. Writers Danton Remoto and J. Neil C. Garcia were two of the first published, and have emerged as two of the most outstanding gay poets and essayists in the Philippines. In 1994, Remoto and Garcia teamed up to edit Ladlad: An Anthology of Philippine Gay Writing. It was a great move for this genre and literary critics in the Philippines began to take notice. Because of its popularity Ladlad 2 soon followed. . A seeming response in this may be seen in the opening of the first gay literature course in the University of the Philippines. The first time the course was offered at the UP in June 1994, both local and international press thought it fresh. Certainly, this novelty tended to the facetious for certain media practitioners.

Oral tradition was the start of literature: stories had been told and passed on to generations. Before the printing press was invented, these scholarly texts were hand-printed and literacy was exclusive only to church and court. It was only in 1450 when Johaness Gutenberg had invented the printing press in the part of the western world and made literacy a necessity to the public (Merritt, 2007).

With the single invention of the printing press, there aroused more than billions of books being printed up to the current generation. Writers had learned to create their own style or manifest a style derived from the other writers to attract readers. Nowadays, there are a lot of categories listed for styles and genres in writing. One of the most common is the short story.

Here in the Philippines, Paz Marquez Benitez’s “Dead Stars” published in 1925 was the first successful short story in English written by a Filipino. After that there had been many Filipino Writers that started different kinds of literature in English.

One of those who started the genre in Gay Literature are poets and newspaper columnists Danton Remoto and J. Neil C. Garcia. The two of the first published, and have emerged as two of the most outstanding gay poets and essayists in the Philippines. Remoto’s Skin, Voices, Faces appeared in 1991 and Garcia’s Closet Quivers in 1992. Tony Perez’s Cubao 1980 at Iba pang mga Katha, written in the national language, appeared the same year.

These books were followed by Margarity Go-Singco’s A Different Love: Being Gay in the Philippines (1993) and Nicolas B. Pichay’s Ang Lunes na Mahirap Bunuin (1993). In 1994, Remoto and Garcia teamed up to edit Ladlad: An Anthology of Philippine Gay Writing, and literary critics in the Philippines began to take notice. Ladlad 2 and Woman to Woman: A Collection of Lesbian Reflections (edited by Aida F. Santos and Ginay Villar) soon followed, and Remoto published a collection of essays, Seduction and Solitude, in 1995. Most of the gay titles have been published by Anvil Publishers, the publishing division of the National Book Store chain, which has bookstores in most of the Philippines’ large shopping malls. By 1997, Anvil was publishing a considerable number of gay titles each year. (Hale,  2002)

Because many Filipino writers have studied and lived for long periods of time in the United States, the lines between Filipino literature and Filipino-American literature are very difficult to draw. Thus, it is worthwhile to also mention the contributions to gay literature being made by Filipino-American writers.  (Hale,  2002)

A folk epic depicts the values, characteristics and beliefs of the people where they came from. They also describe the positive and negative characteristics of the youth, of their gods, heroes, of women, of their ancestors and everyone else in the community. A folk epic is very significant in cultural legacy as it embodies and immortalizes the original values of the tribes. By these epics, the modern readers could understand the traditions and cultural character of these tribes, it is not only the readers that could decipher them but also the descendants and the youth of that certain tribe. Without this it would be hard for the modern members of the tribe to look back to their abcestors.

Sabong would give the readers an idea the ethnic group loves the enjoyments in life. On the other hand, Ulahingan, The Dream of Begyasan depicts the courage of the tribe and their love and great respect to their elders. Also, the excerpt gives a glimpse of some of the tribe member’s negative characteristics like being boastful of their courage and their tribe as the bravest of all tribes. Darangen, The Abduction of Tawaten The Kapmabaning is another epic that gives us the ability of people from this tribe to fight for love, love for the opposite sex. This epic also shows the rituals of the tribe like the betel nut chewing. The Darangen Epic of the Maranao People of Lake Lanao is considered one of the greatest epic in the country.

Ag Tobig Nog Keboklogan is an epic that shows the love of a mother to a lost child. Love mixed with longing and then this epic has also a characteristic of being judgmental, judging from the outer appearance.

Citing the ideals, characteristics of the heroes in a folk epic and why are they exalted, even worshiped by their tribe.

One example for a hero would be Bantugan, one character from Darangen, a warrior and a womanizer. Even though the heroes in these epics are not that perfect, they all are usually courageous and usually, they save the tribe from other tribe or groups that would want their territory.

Most of these heroes are good by nature so they are usually worshiped and was loved by the tribe. When they die they usually have their heroes burial and then, their women would come there. These heroes usually fights for their life, for their tribe, or for a woman.

Contemporary poems that reflects the sentiments, ideals, passion, conflict and the experiences of the Mindanaoans.

The poems “Palitan, Marawi City”, “ Lungsod Pagmata”, “Ang Pito Ka Panghinapos nga Pulong ni Bong Fulong”, “Bangsamoro”, “Costa Maruna”, “Metamorposis” are contemporary poems that depicts the life of each Mindanaoans. There are poems that talks a about the nature and later on the life of longing for a love, like the poem Costa Maruna. There are also poems that reflects the wants of the author for the people to wake up from issues of the society. There are poems about war and of happiness. Here we can say that a writer could do many things in his readers, to persuade, to stir revolutionary thoughts, to entertain and to make the readers appreciate things through their eyes.

The folk epics/ poetry are long enough that the one’s tackled in class are just excerpts. Contemporary poems are usually shorter than epics. These epics are longer because they have this style of rep[eating themselves, not only for clarity or for accenting, but this is also embodies their poetic prowess. These epics also involves heroes and magical beings and happenings that are concerned with spirits or magic powers.

On the other hand, the contemporary poems are very true to life and reveals the reality experienced in the localities. The nature depicting emotions is still there, and clarity mixed with the simplicity in words are present.

The contemporary poetry embodies this characteristics as the contemporary readers and writers are fanatics of shorter art, rather than the super long epics. These is because the competency in attention to these arts are high, some contemporary writers prefer writing in  shorter passages. Also, as these epics gives the readers of today an idea that there exists magical beings and powers in their time, being superstitious is also reflected in the epics. But on the contemporary works, we could say that there are almost no magical creatures or super humans.