From 17 Magnetic Poles: Listening to Readings and Written on Green Paper

December 5 2007 12:58 pm

I. Poet, Fictionist, Genuine Renaissance Woman according to Joel Toledo.

too prosaic; too telling; find the trace/influence; what’s the voice of the persona?; reading doesn’t resonate: what emotion is dominant?; how does this look on paper?; language is so-so—anchor it to ‘lego’ as dominant metaphor; oh dear, the ‘tab a into slot b’ gives it away as a sex poem; still exploring the same topic; persona is scorned: tsk, hay; go inside: ask why; now what do you do?

II. The Rebelling Host according to Joel Toledo; to me, “Rebelling Emcee with Disclaimer”

1. same reading, same tone; change, change, change the blah; same rhythm: find distortion.
2. the train station trope: ayayayay; same reading as 1: not touching me; almost the same metaphors for every train poem; change the reading.

III. The Architist according to Joel Toledo; to me, “I thought he’s Icarus?”

1. [What does ‘former Dumaguete fellow mean’? They stopped being fellows?] Anyway, a creation of 7 levels of heaven: a pun on Inferno and on other things; a guy thing. Dominant MO: working with quotes…Hmmm, I find something interesting in this one (like Monkey Poem vibe) but—oh well, hell.
2. tsk, it’s everywhere; too prosaic; clean it up; make it tighter; oblique; displace.

IV. The Palanca Winner according to everybody

1. Altitude [a 2002 Dumaguete Poem]: hahaha: drunk or high? Good voice; too abstract. Still. Resounding end lines. [Why didn’t I ever think of writing a poem in Dumaguete? Ah, kasi I was dealing with CNF problem.]
2. New Poem [2007]: Cerebral? Working on these objects: water, bottom, boat, land—at least consistent movement. The trend? Repetition of last phrases/lines: “If it gets there, it gets there.”

V. Monsieur Pepe le Skunk according to the porcupine

Too pounding; I seek the silence; let the fucking words speak to communicate the urgency; repetition to communicate the “tuliro” vibe; the repetition does bring sporadic bursts of new meaning; take the drums to the background, escalate to a crescendo; it’s a prank; god as the joker-poker-player; naku, tutungga ako ng Serc nito: lecheng pang-vertigo yun performance mo.

VI. “Isa sa pinakawasak na bayaw” according to Joel Toledo; Wonderboy according to the girls; Adam-Nonoy to me.

Hahahaha. Good opener: his brother took this girl to a movie. He said to the girl, “You know, you’re kinda naïve.” The girl said, “What’s naïve?” Hahahaha.

Some are really visual poems given the constraints. But they sound good. Funny to me--- fucking the theory. AND Mang Jimmy liked it! Uuuy, bumenta! Mabuhay uli ang PoMo Paraluman! The experiment worked!

VII. Lord of Shabu Poems, according to me

1. S.H.A.B.U.: Hahahaha. It’s Shabu all right being transcribed/translated/transformed. The twist is in the end. Hahahaha.
2. ROCK N’ ROLL: brilliant: “namumulang buwan” for moon.
3. CAVEAT: sabi ng Lord of Shabu, masama talaga ang Shabu and di siya gumagamit nun kasi nakakasira raw ng buhay. Say mo?

INTERMISSION: John Torres Film

Authentic Voice; I saw Joma Sison and said, “Jesus Christ”, not wanting to remember things; “Dahil sa hiya, di na ko makabalik,’ he said, in reference to something about smoking--- and I thought of Erika. The song he was singing made me bleed--- “The guerilla is like the poet…” Right.

VIII. Kris Lanot Lacaba a.k.a. “KundiMan”; to me, Anak ni Ma’am Marra

Your eyes are your mom’s; cracked jokes: si “Jose Capili” in reference to the Juan’s, Paraluman’s and Jose’s. Hahahahaha to the readings.

“I LOVE YOU KRIS!” Adam shouted and quipped, “Sabay kamay sa thesis adviser oh.”

Hehehehe.

IX. Sir Marne

Thank you Sir for writing a poem to remember the deluge in Bicol last year. And I remember clearly what I saw when we did relief missions last Christmas.

And your poem inspired the cat and TJ in the stories they will write.

X. Angelo Suarez

I went to the toilet. At least he didn’t shout, this time: whatever that was he read. He must be in love.

BONUS!

Mang Jimmy recited a poem. He forgot some lines of the first poem, smiling “Ahhh, son of a gun!”, and decided to recite another poem by Robert Frost.

I feel so lucky.

I guess I have to enroll in one of your subjects just to experience being taught by you for 54 hours.

The whole night had a very happy energy!

And the best way to end it is to be with friends and dance to the covers of Rolling Stones, The Doors, Juan de la Cruz, and Company and listen to the vocalist of Maniac Kiss crack jokes (while Adam shouts his requests). Adam and I agreed to watch their next gig. On our way out, I said my goodbyes to everyone left.

I said goodbye to Joel---who looked girlishly tipsy with his Mod hair. Joel introduced the cat to Sir Krip as “Sir, this is ***********, *appellation*.”

I also said goodbye to Merv who told me, “I’ve been reading your blog.” I laughed, “Oh? How did you find it?” He said it was linked to one blog that I didn’t know about. I shrugged, “Oh well. How do you find it?” He said, “Let’s just say I’m considering some for an anthology.” I said, “Nyak!”

Goodbye to Sir Marne (who actually stood up, such a gentleman): “Sir, Bicolana po ako. Salamat po dun sa tula.” In the beginning of the night, he saw me, smiled, came over to our table and said, “Andyan ka pala.” I shook his hand, bringing it to my forehead for a mano, “Good evening po Sir!” He laughed, “Ikaw talaga.”

Sir Krip’s laughing goodbye: “Para kang politiko! Dami mong pinagpaalamanan!“ I said, “Di naman sir. Magalang lang po. Charming ba? Hahahaha!” I didn’t add that he looked dangerously red.

Goodbye to Sir Rock: “Sir, galing nun Maniac Kiss! Sige po, mauna na kami.”

A Suicide Note:

I am happy! Time to die.