Streams of Consciousness… Beware of wordiness*!

The following poems were written by dr. Anthony Tan (pen name: Roger Arpa Ibanez), my Poetry teacher. He won 2nd Prize in the Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature under the Poetry Category, English Division (I didn’t get my hands on the one that won 1st prize..hehehe).

A Cynic’s New Millenium, 1999
During a lull between typhoon rains
Nine white-breasted birds sat on a wire
Under the canopy of low, gray clouds.
On sodden ground the trees and shrubs
Wore the vestigial gloom of late December.
I thought of Hardy and his frail, gaunt thrush
And wished the birds would repeat to me
The thrush’s song of hope, celestial solace
They would design to pour on world-weary souls.
I waited for their song. None of them sang,
Engrossed they were with pimping their feathers.
If nine presaged good luck, thought I,
It would be a prosperous year, or decade.
"Happy New Year!" I hailed them cheerily.
Six scampered away, startled, as I was myself,
By the zing and suddenness of my salutation.
Twithced their tails in unison,
Dropped something white and watery
On my bare head and whisked into the dark.

Crossing the River

Came upon a river shrouded in mist.
Too early for bird call, or wing beat,
Too early even for wind.
A giant conch shell on a beaded string
Hung on the branch of a leafless tree.
it belonged to the boatman of the river.
With little energy I blew it long and thin,
Remembering what I had been taught,
Cupping it between my delicate hands.
On the edge of that feeble call
An apparition darkened the thick mist.
Slowly the bow emerged in the hush of dawn.
Beckoned me to his boat. Didn’t tell him
Where to and he didn’t ask, as if
My destination were already foreknown
He didn’t paddle. He hesitated.
He waited as if he had forgotten something.
Looked me straight in the eye.
When I didnt’t respond immediately,
he opened a bony hand,
The bwhite palm trembling with greed.
The other hand gripped the head of a long pole.
then I remembered what I had been taught:
I dropped a silver coin into his open palm.
He gripped it, dropped it into a bulging purse
That was tightly sewn to his leather belt.
the drop of silver on silver
Was the only sound in the soundless mist.
Only then did a fugitive grin light up his face.
Only then did he strike
The murky water in the pole.
There was no one to say goodbye to.
No friends. No kinsmen. No lovers.
the gurgle int he wake took the place of words.
The boat moved toward the other bank, where
He had unloaded his boat of so many strangers.

…but disruptive sirens who hold you back do come with it!

Opportunity really does have a nasty habit of showing up when we least expect it to appear. For some people, OPPORTUNITY is not a sparkling scape-goat but a painful apparition…

…well, I’m afraid there’s nothing much we can do about it. But if opportunity wags itself to you, be sure to take it right away and tame it…whether or not you’re prepared for it.

…For if you wait for "dear old preparation" to accompany you, remember that opportunity has a fugacious property.

…Just grab it and provision will catch up with you along the way forming a leash connecting you and that "furry" shot.

Don’t let people you love (and those whom you think you love) keep you rooted on the same spot. Never stay for someone else’s sake.

"But their sake is my sake!", you suddenly blurt out. Well, I say, SCREW THEM!

I’m not saying you should be self-centered but rather, the people surrounding you should not be greedy enough not to encourage you from going after what you deserve…and what you deserve is a life far greater than the one that you have at the moment (puhleeaaaasse, don’t be a phony! No one in his/her lifetime is actually contented…especially not I!).

While it’s true that sometimes, being free means choosing not to go, but to stay….on a case to case basis. Learn to weigh things. Make sure that if you decide not to chase after that clinquant chance, you wont live the rest of your life regretting it (oh, believe me you will!).

People around us have a despicable and, sometimes, unconscious trait of making us feel hopeful for a promising future with them –which wouldn’t be worth the quell, I tell you that. Disruptive sirens!

You wouldn’t want to end up one day blaming them when in fact, it is actually your fault for being so vulnerable and irrational in the first place! Tsk, tsk, tsk…

This poem is originally entitled "Love Poem"… (buot-buot lang ko ug change…hehe). I really fancy this literary work by John Frederick Nims (I owe that to Prof. Anthony Tan, my Poetry class adviser)…it has a slight resemblance to the message of the song "My Funny Valentine"…

My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,

At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,

Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,

And have no cunning with any soft thing

Except all ill-at-ease fidgeting people:

The refugee uncertain at the door

You make at home; deftly you steady

The drunk clambering on his undulant floor.

Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers’ terror,

Shrinking from far headlights pale as dime

Yet leaping before red apoplectic streetcars –

Misfit in any space. And never on time.

A wrench in clocks and the solar system. Only

With words and people and love you move at ease.

In traffic of wit expertly manoeuvre

And keep us, all devotion, at your knees.

Forgetting your coffee spreading on our flannel,

Your lipstick grinning on our coat,

So gayly in love’s unbreakable heaven

Our souls of glory of spilt bourbon float.

Be with me, darling, early and late. Smash glasses –

I will study wry music for your sake.

For should your hands drop white and empty

All the toys of the world would break.

….aaaaww….. such beauty… an exchange of giggles and sniffs… ^_^ …what do you think?…

Prediction from the Soothsayer:

(Divination..I didn’t know I had it in me…X_x)

Lots of promises and gifts would be made this season. Lovers (particularly the male ones) would start to make reservations under the moonlight…claiming each star as their gift to their partners.

Plea from the Infamous Soothsayer:

My only wish is that…spare me a star. All heavenly bodies are not yours for the taking. And just because I’m single doesn’t mean I don’t  deserve one.