masterwork

On my way home today, I heard Simon & Garfunkel’s Sound of Silence played in the loudspeakers of the Cubao station of the MRT. Goosebumps all over me, I felt like crying. All those tired people in the station, heading home too, looked so beautiful. Then, all of a sudden, I remembered Alfredo telling Toto in Cinema Paradiso, “I don’t want to hear you talk anymore. I want to hear others talking about you.” So I’m taking it as a sign – maybe now is really the time for pure, work of the heart. Like the work poured out on that ageless, truthful song. Until then, I’ve no right to be just flinging out words here. The word is my tool. I ought to respect it. So I ought to be going back on paper. The 30.

Then maybe, one day, I can just sit back and see it all -

A Fellowship

Oi! Fellow writers! That season’s begun again – sweet slaughter:

http://www.panitikan.com.ph/event/call-submission-manuscripts-silliman-university-national-writers-workshop

Truth is, I only want to get in so I could get that free plane ride to Dumaguete. Then I’ll get me a boat ride to neighboring Siquijor. Then I’ll run to the white sand beach and do cartwheels. Then on to the ritual: wade through the water until I’m neck deep, turn around to face the beach, and sing!

Actually, what I really just want is to be a fellow. And I don’t mean just being called a “fellow”. I don’t care much for the title. But I do like to be a fellow. You know, like how the sea is to the shore.

Wait, that might get misread. I don’t mean it like how that old mushy saccharine Lani Hall remake song goes (though I like that song). I’m not on a mission to fish from the bloody pool.

I want to be a fellow because I want to belong.

Truth is, that’s the plain and simple truth behind all the writing, all the verses, all the work. As far back as I can remember, from the very beginning, I’ve always just been serenading.

I got no good new verses so I’ll have to check the essays. Let’s see. Inshallah.

And if I do get to join, and if I do get in, this is what the beach would be hearing: http://grooveshark.com/#!/s/Paul+Simon+Bridge+Over+Troubled+Water/de0lo?src=5

And just like that, it’s time for supper.

“all your graces someday will flower”

First heard the song in Cuaron’s adaptation of Great Expectations…

… and to my very last breath I know I’ll have no less than great expectations.

 

Happy New Year, girls and boys!

All together now!

“It’s time, time, time that you love!”

“Immerse your soul in love!”

“All is full of love!”

… and so shall it be ’til our days are done.

 

Gotta keep the faith, all ye lonesome girls and boys.

Stand your ground in the heart of the song.

There’s no other way to go.

caroling

Thank You for the bread and soup and milk. And for the roof over my head.

Thank You for all the work You’ve allowed me to do to earn these good little things.

Work that has kept me going.

Thank You for the bed, and for this time to rest, and surrender.

And dream. Please grant it, my Lord. Please.

I believe You are listening.

“a hook-laden melody is a movable feast”

… writes The Guardian critic Alexis Petridis about Coldplay’s latest offering, Mylo Xyloto, despite a few reservations.

Actually, that’s what I admire about Chris Martin and company – their seemingly reliable ability to come up with gently infectious melodies…

… and lines like, “In your tears, and in your blood/ In your fire, and in your flood/ I heard you laugh, I heard you sing/ I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

I hope the new one is good. And they even have a Charlie Brown song in it, or so it’s been reported. Have to march off to the Fully Booked Taguig palace real soon to check it out from the listening racks.

In the meantime, it’s 1:11 a.m. Time for breakfast. I want warm rice, two sunny side up eggs, and hot coffee, please. Grazie!

Good. Will. Hunting.

After Finding Forrester, I put Good Will Hunting on, to keep me company while doing some of these edits.

I miss my poetry teachers. Terribly. I miss the classroom, and hearing life spun in verses, aiming for the heart, and getting right in, and changing lives.

I miss my good teacher, him who gave to me and showed me nothing but kindness, and who told me to work and work hard and work always — The Baptist.

This is for him and his fellow givers. Keepers of the fire.

Merry merry!

Dear Santa,

I want a guitar that looks like and sounds like the one Mrs. Michael Penn is playing here.

And all the graces that my little yearning heart can hold.

Thank you.

Love,

Jennifer

just as I am preparing for the new guitar…

… I hear news that Coldplay is coming here in Manila…

… and as much as that excites me, I’d like Radiohead to come too, because I want to hear the sexiest, smartest, truest, and most comforting Radiohead song, live…

… at any rate, I’m playing both songs on my coming dark, handsome, sonorous one

Rektikano 6 – The Lasallians’ Progress

The latest issue of Rektikano Magazine, the official global publication of Filipino Lasallians, is finally out!

For your copies of this special double edition, and for subscriptions, please contact our publisher, the De La Salle Alumni Association ( http://www.dlsaa.com/dlsaa/rektikanoMagazine.php ).

Enjoy reading!