A Part, Apart

I see you.
Blood.
Sweat.
Tears.
But I wasn't there.

I feel you.
Joy.
Stress.
Sadness.
But I wasn't there.

I hear you.
Laughter.
Grumble.
Whimper.
But I wasn't there.

I was a part, apart.
Like some missing piece.
I wanted to reach
Out into where you are.
But I wasn't there.

C12H22O11

Should I wait for the sugar to down this bitter pill?
'Cause it's been sitting here for a while
In my closed mouth, on my very tongue.
Should I wait to trade sadness for a smile?

Water might be cold,
And it just might do the trick.
But the fleeting moment through my throat,
Might make me yearn the kick.

I might just get used to
The pricks my buds feel.
The plastic must have melted
But I'm waiting here still.

(8:19 7/27/2012 Dorm Room) He didn't reply.

Places

Beneath the grass beneath my feet,

But above the clouds above my head.

Inside the heart inside my chest,

Within the crevices within my head.

They're all the places where people die

But places you never cease to exist.

It's the people you leave behind

That make you feel you're missed.

I love you Dad, so much. 

(8:08 06/17/2012 Daddy's Office)

Time moves but I don't.

Time moves but you won't.

Time moves but we don't.

Time moves but I don't.

(7:47 05/16/12 Dorm Room)

I see your glasses. 

I wonder what your eyes see. 

I wonder what they look like. 

I wonder if you look at me.

(4:49 04/06/12 Computer Room)

Ketchup Packet

My heart is a ketchup packet,

Vulnerable at the perforated edges.

Outside, it's plastic and metal;

Inside, it's like everyone else's.

I'd rather you tear it up

At it's zigzag seams.

For you to use it up is what 

The red within me dreams.

Oh, to die for a cause

By giving my all.

To risk something from a short life

All for another's call.

I try to present myself better

But no one looks for packets anymore.

How could I compete

When the whole world just wants more?

So on the table I'll wait

Until you find what you need.

But I can't be here forever

When life tells me to proceed.

(8:32 PM, 03/30/12, Computer Room at Home)

[Photo]

Song of the Apprehensive

I see you from afar.

I wish you'd start the conversation.

All I ask for is courage

To talk to you in person.

You're with your friends.

You barely look my direction.

All I ask for is the chance

To talk to you in person.

Then I start to speak,

Yet fails in diction and execution.

All I ask for is the time

To talk to you in person.

So I wait instead,

But you never wonder my position.

All I ask for is you

To talk to me in person.

(10:17, 01/17/2012, Dorm Room)

Photo by: Charca Manilay

Somewhere out there

Or somewhere by my side

In waiting in the cold air

'Til our souls collide

(10:10 PM, 02/08/12)

Ang Babaeng Nasa Balkonahe

Nababahiran na ng dugo ang langit;

Animo’y nakikidalamhati sa akin.

At sa ilang saglit lahat ay didilim,

Lalabas ang mga lampara at bituin.

Ako’y naghihintay habang gumuguni

Sa araw na tila laging lumulubog.

Hindi pa ba ito nasikat sa aking paningin,

Lumiliwanag lang sa aking pagtulog?

Oh Araw, bakit hindi pa sa oras mo

Kumikilos ang lalaking umiibig?

Bagkos sa dilim lang sumesenyas,

Walang kimi ngunit nananalig.

Nakatataba man ng puso

Ang pagsinta sa liham, tula at harana,

Ngunit wala akong mahihinuha

Sa bulag na pag-ibig ng isang makata.

Mga kilos mo ang aking kailangan

At hindi ang mga bulaklak sa iyong bibig.

Kamay, paa, katawan ng lalaki –

Ang kayumanging kaligatan – ang aking iniibig.

Ipakita mo sa akin, gamit ng iyong gawa,

Ang dugong nananalaytay sa pagnanais

Sa pag-ibig at kalayaan ng aking puso

‘Pagkat ang panahon ay mapagmalabis.

Hindi lingid sa isip ko

Karahasan ng aking sasabihin:

Puso’y hindi sa akin para ibigay,

Ngunit sa inyo na angkinin.

Oh Haring Gabi, ‘wag ka pang dumating!

Ninanais ko pa ang araw.

Hintayin pa ang pulang belo na maglaho

Bago ikaw tuluyang dumalaw.

(1:12 PM, 02/26/12, Computer Room of the House)

Hello! I shall post a translation of this soon! :)

(Image Source)

Inspiration: Kundiman

by Jose Rizal

Tunay ngayong umid yaring diwa at puso

Ang bayan palibhasa'y api, lupig at sumuko.

Sa kapabayaan ng nagturong puno

Paglaya'y nawala, ligaya'y naglaho!

Datapuwa't muling sisikat ang maligayang araw

Pilit na maliligtas ang inaping bayan

Magbabalik man din at laging sisikat

Ang ngalang Tagalog sa sandaigdigan!

Ibubuhos namin ang dugo'y ibabaha

Ng matubos lamang ang sa Amang Lupa!

Hanggang 'di sumapit ang panahong tadhana

Sinta ay tatahimik, tutuloy ang nasa!

Sinta ay tatahimik at tutuloy ang nasa!

O Bayan kong mahal

Sintang Filipinas!

(Source)

Edit: HARING LEAR: Insanity at Its Most Complex

The Shakespearean Pieta: The King holding his beloved daughter who has done no wrong but be truthful and frank.

Feudal Japanese Clothing, Post-Apocalyptic Setting, Shakespearean Madness, Bald Actors, Filipino Language: Five things I would never think of being mixed, prepared and served.


But then again, I haven't seen much of anything really. So a fresh take on anything would be a wonderful slice of heaven after days when you just feel so "toxic".


So what else is in this bowl? Well, we could add great new friends, a possibility of acting the lead and relatively good seats to the mix. And when the mix is cooked and served, it comes in this wonderful white post-modernist box, the PETA Theater Center, lined with red and an eye-catching Neo-Filipino piece that looks into the history of the theater. What's inside is most probably the most eye catching of all. A red large room, decorated with destroyed paper lanterns, with some of them having the backbones to keep its shape. In addition to the post-apocalyptic state of the room, there were chandeliers with the covers nearly torn and an amazing throne of bamboo with a crown floating above the seater's head before the backdrop of bamboo frames that seemed to remind me of Encantada. I felt I was where I was supposed to be by merely entering the theater.


Given the setting, I would have never guessed what my gustation would come across: Shakespeare's King Lear. But with this new take on a classic, directed by Nonon Padilla, and being all-accepting as I am, I carried on with so much more excitement - more particularly with their clothing. Putting the Samurai skirts against the tight cotton tight tops was a flash genius! I would have never thought such fashion could be so modern and refined, most especially for men, since the Japanese fashion have only influenced female fashion, seen in the likes of Alexander McQueen. Furthermore, clothing ranged in limited colors of black - yes, shades of black, some very dark maroons, and even a few grays. This is in stark contrast to the whites of the main characters, Cordelia and Lear. The King's wardrobe has shifted from a dark-colored summer-polo-and-cargos combo to an added garbage bag cape and crown to a white Old English Top and tights ensemble that has defined his enlightenment and short-lived triumph. Cordelia's piece is what I truly applaud, for its versatility and simplicity. The immaculate white of the torso-fit dress which becomes matched with a lot of pieces like a white fan and gold tiara, a right-arm armor and a helmet with a large white feather, and even a wrap of clear plastic upon her death.


The furniture is mostly of Asian accents, mostly Filipino and Japanese. From the recyclables from native and natural elements to the everyday yet torn and time-punished pieces. The set also has a thing with small lights, present at the collar pieces of the evil sister's clothing and the crown in the throne. It is a nice touch to have the crown and scepter, symbols of kingly power hanging above the head of the seater. It is interesting to a point where the these items closely related to power is left on a throne, which would likely be related to the complete relinquishing of his land, and thus his power, to his two older daughters.


One of the best things about this take on Madness would be the switch of tongues, with a greater preference to the native one, without sacrificing the beauty of figures of speech in the original text. The sparing use of English in sometimes mocking, show-off, and/or emphasis-needed lines made it more attractive and appealing to the audience.


Time-lapses could be really confusing, given the common use of swords and horses which then shifts to a gun and very large electric fans, to shower-induced rains, and rain-coats. But the interest lies with this play of from-the-future parts in an old story retold.


Lastly, I would comment on the actors - yes, gender sensitively - actors, which are all male by birth. Having everyone except Lear to be bald is another form of playing with contrasts giving the viewer more focus on the King, which might have been played by many an understudy or double, given the length of some lines. The British Council is good at its art, which packages the whole shebang. The set, the lights, and most especially its actors who could carry a tune, and methodically be in character. The way they portray encompasses the humanness of humans, giving their disillusionment, swaying views and stands, and even their clam-ups to save themselves from the hurt that society or, even worse, the real world is throwing at them. Well, this is what I see. Some points to note are the scene of the eye-gouging, which is taken in a very admiring manner of complexity, more and less gore, and an ending to an act which would even make you gouge your own eyes; the fight scenes (a not so hunky, but still hunky guy to spot!) which would have needed much help, though knowingly, we must understand that violence is hard to fake; and lastly, the most amazing part of all, the ending with a thousand (an over exaggeration) quotes and excerpts, starting from T.S. Eliot, from cast standing between randomly placed lit candles in wire candle sticks.


I never knew a Post-Apocalyptic Cake could be heavenly.

Heap. Pile. Tower.

Recollections. The HARING LEAR memorabilia I had bought. It features photos, videos and a lot more. But the best part is the Packaging.

As of now, I am under loads of stuff to do! But not to fear! I shall keep posting - for this is the only thing keeping me sane right now. My Zoology classes have been piling like crazy, Chemistry is now accululating under my feet, and not a single word has been written for my PI 100 (Philippine Institutions 100, A Study on Jose Rizal) Literature.

But what I would like to discuss now are the objects of interest in this blog: The Literature and The Arts. Under Literature, I have under my wing are a list of PI100 requirements (an Essay about an Essay, a free-verse and a pantoum about a poem, and a short story on a minimal character in Noli Me Tangere), contributions to WAYWAYA, the university publication, and a HUM1 redo of my previously posted review on HARING LEAR. My professor - but more likely I - has given me a short time to accomplish this make-over for a possibility to be published in some paper/journal/hard material. While I am under a lot of pressure in thinking of topics for new material for the "mini-book" of the university.

In the arts, I am tasked to play the role of King Lear in a HUM1 class rendering of the eponymous play. So here's to a week dedicated to a slur of lines to memorize - or read from a dummy sheet. HARING LEAR was supposed to be the wood to start the fire of the play going and I ended up thrilled and scared shitless to be leading it. At least with it, I have now cleaned my colon.

So, here's to the rest of the semester and hoping I make it out alive. :D

P.S. I'd like to comment on the amazing packaging of the memorabilia above. The post apocalypse in the setting is well reflected by the pamphlet that even the lead is encased in a sheet of plastic, much so the part where he has finally turned mad. His eyes are covered with a paper similar to onion skin to give the strange lingering feeling of being bound to such madness.

HARING LEAR: Insanity at Its Most Complex

Feudal Japan Clothing, Post-Apocalyptic Setting, Shakespearean Madness, Bald Actors, Filipino Language: Five things I would never think of being put into a pot to be served.

But then again, I haven't seen much of anything really. So a fresh take on anything would be a wonderful slice of heaven after days when you just feel so "toxic".

So what else is in this pot? Well, we could add great new friends, a possibility of acting the lead and relatively good seats to the mix. And when the mix is cooked and served, it comes in this wonderful white post-modernist box, the PETA Theater Center, lined with red and an eye-catching Neo-Filipino piece that looks into the history of the theater. What's inside is most probably the most eye catching of all. A red large room, decorated with destroyed paper lanterns, with some of them having the backbones to keep its shape. In addition to the post-apocalyptic state of the room, there were chandeliers with the covers nearly torn and an amazing throne of bamboo with a crown floating above the seater's head before the backdrop of bamboo frames that seemed to remind me of Encantada. I felt I was where I was supposed to be by merely entering the theater.

Given the setting, I would have never guessed Shakespeare's Hamlet was going to be seen. But with this new take on a classic, directed by Nonon Padilla - and being all-accepting as I am, I carried on with much more excitement - more evidently with their clothing. The Samurai skirts against the tight cotton tight tops were so genius! I would have never though such fashion could be so modern and refined, most especially for men, since the Japanese fashion have influenced the likes of Alexander McQueen. Furthermore, clothing ranged in limited colors of black - yes, shades of black, some very dark maroons, and even a few grays. This is in stark contrast to the whites of the main characters, Cordelia and Lear, who have changed from a dark-colored summer-polo-and-cargos combo to an added garbage bag cape and crown to a white Old English Top and tights ensemble fit for a king. Cordelia's piece is what I truly applaud, for its versatility and simplicity.. The immaculate white of the torso-fit dress which becomes matched with a lot of pieces like a white fan and gold tiara, a right-arm armor and a helmet with a large white feather, and even a wrap of clear plastic upon her death.

The furniture is mostly of Asian accents, mostly Filipino and Japanese. From the recyclables from native and natural elements to the everyday yet torn and time-punished pieces. The set also has a thing with small lights, present at the collar pieces of the evil sister's clothing and the crown in the throne. It is a nice touch to have the crown and scepter, symbols of kingly power hanging above the head of the seater. It is interesting to a point where the these items closely related to power is left on a throne, which would likely be related to the complete relinquishing of his land, and thus his power, to his two older daughters.

One of the best things about this take on Madness would be the switch of tongues, with a greater preference to the native one, without sacrificing the beauty of figures of speech in the original text. The sparing use of English in sometimes mocking, show-off, and emphasis-needed lines made it more attractive and appealing to the audience.

Time-lapses could be really confusing, given the common use of swords and horses which then shifts to a gun and very large electric fans, to shower-induced rains, and rain-coats. But the interest lies with this play of from-the-future parts in an old story retold.

Lastly, I would comment on the actors - yes, gender sensitively - actors, which are all male by birth. Having everyone except Lear to be bald is another form of playing with contrasts giving the viewer more focus on the King, which might have been played by many an understudy or double, given the length of some lines. The British Council is good at its art, which packages the whole shebang. The set, the lights, and most especially its actors who could carry a tune, and methodically be in character. The way they portray encompasses the humanness of humans, giving their disillusionment, swaying views and stands, and even their clam-ups to save themselves from the hurt that society or, even worse, the real world is throwing at them. Well, this is what I see. Some points to note are the scene of the eye-gouging, which is taken in a very admiring manner of complexity, more and less gore, and an ending to an act which would even make you gouge your own eyes; the fight scenes (a not so hunky, but still hunky guy to spot!) which would have needed much help, though knowingly, we must understand that violence is hard to fake; and lastly, the most amazing part of all, the ending with a thousand (an over exaggeration) quotes and excerpts, starting from T.S. Eliot, from cast standing between randomly placed lit candles in wire candle sticks.

I never knew a Post-Apocalyptic Cake would be heavenly.

Photo from Haring Lear Memorabilia CD.

Haring Lear is wonderful with friends who appreciate the necessity of silence inside a theater. Thank you BSN '14 for having me and my friend Karla. The rides to and fro have been awesome. - xoxo, Dondie. 

The Morning After

(2:21, 02/15/12, White Sheets, Lying on bed)

Photo backdrops from: (Sources 1 2 3)

Cupcake Girl

Blue and white stripes.
A big red sequined heart.
A box of cupcakes to match.
She walks these halls.
She stops to pause
A friend she comes across.

And with her hands,
She opens up
A huge tupperware
Of the little red things
Dolloped with cream cheese
Motioning him to receive.

He then reaches out
Then gives her a smile
Saying to her: "Thank you."
And as she puts
The lid back on
He repeats to her "Thank you."

She then looks up.
A sweet smile on her face.
A sweeter smile on his.
And with a goodbye,
A little red thing In his heart was set ablaze.

(Some time between 2:00 to 2:20, 02/14/12, cubicle or desk in CAS Library)

Happy Valentines Day!

Photo by: Elysse "Cupcake Girl" Salindo

Yet We Do It Everyday

Why is a heart breaking, but beating, but breaking
When all things are through?
Why do we keep loving, though breaking, but loving
When our heart is breaking too?

Why do we keep on drying, then crying, then drying
When our cheeks will still get wet?
Why do tears just keep falling, then drying, then falling
When we don't want to get wet?

Why are we falling, not flying, but falling
When there's someone we met?
Why leaving, no enduring, just leaving
When we just can't take it yet?

Why do doing, undoing, then redoing
When we don't really undo?
Why can't we see doing, not undoing, then doing
When doing again is all we do?

Losing Faith and Finding It Again

(November 20, 2011, 8:45 PM, On a busride home)

Losing faith and finding it again,

Through wake-up calls and loud sirens,

Unheard by the body, recognized by the soul,

Winning me back was His greatest goal

I for so long questioned who He was,

What plans and roads for me He has

And all these detours that would lead me astray,

Hating the hard steep paths He wanted me to stay

And when I got to where my detours have lead,

What I saw was darkness and emptiness ahead

I have been tricked, been fooled

By the material, the physical and indigent world

Walking backwards, taking back words,

What tomfoolery a fool has been lured

Finding that corner of magnificent light,

Marrying the day, divorcing the night

Erratum is human, those who know are blessed,

Makes us more sincere than those who couldn’t care less

It has been so long, I have forgotten when,

Losing faith and finding it again

An About Me Poem (for my HUM I class)

All that is pure is white.

All that is not is black.

I see shades; Shades in sight

Of gray that others lack.

Erasers.

Bought in packs of three.

None come back.