Sunday, September 16, 2012

HESA a.m., MIBF p.m.

yesterday, early in the morning, i happen to see that two of my attempts at poetry are up at HESA inprint: "((random) remarks)" and "Notes on the Flashing Yellow Light that Kept on Winking," the former being a villanelle, the latter being a prose poem and some time in the near future, shall hopefully be something else, and that something else is something i look forward to as i have a probable conspirator with that something else. what i find pleasant about HESA and most independent group of creatives, publishers, writers, so and so, that i worked with by means of mere submission is that they respond promptly and i find that human and i find it beautiful early in the morning as, with the latter piece, i emailed them about minor changes that needed to be made and they responded and they delivered and through them i sort of re-earned, at the very least, the trust i have lost in writing and art communities and in humanity, so sensitive of me, so exaggerated but yes. yes, i am driving at something as paper monster press calls for submissions at [submit!] and had their call posted elsewhere, many elsewheres, promising things they previously failed to deliver as they do not actually reserve contributors' copies but instead have them sold [shame!], given the chance. chance! chances are,

we would really cross paths with people whom we share similar interests w. saw the ser dums, and other friends, old and new. at the 33rd MIBF yesterday, from early in the afternoon til early in the evening, i hunted for books, failed to find some, but so far, my haul was quite a catch. and, the cost quite a lot, pitted against what i-- anyway, nope, no enumeration of books, just booths, stalls. not sure if powerbooks and national bookstore had their powers merged, but it seems so. spent the most at nbs. spent the least at, guess what, ateneo press, but god, i shall save up for that prof chari book. i guess in terms of quantity, that was new day publishing, and maybe, breadth, "harvests" from ilocos, mindanao, cebu, etc. in terms of quality, of course the bias, and thus, i have the special mention of titles from the university of the philippines press (i think it also maintains rosario cruz-lucero's "feast and famine: stories of negros" and edel garcellano's "knife's edge: selected essays." both are newfound favorite (not just writers, but, i don't know, characters, maybe and, as they are) intellectuals. both have books i shall have soon. the former's "ang bayan sa labas ng maynila" and the latter's "vanishing history & other poems," though poems in this collection are accessible online.

too much time spent. things left undone. blog entry too long. ending with "Notes..." after this p.s. that i saw a poetry collection of billy corgan that i did not purchase because i did not have the money for it yet as i have the money for the the things i have purchased and, you know, we have to allocate resources during these critical times when basic needs need to be sacrificed for vices such as books, so, here, a prose poem:

Tilde Acuña 13/09/2012

1. Like the famed approaching train mistaken for the light at the end of the dark tunnel, the flashing yellow Light in the righteous path is also a flickering hope that makes us believe that we can cross the righteous path alive.

2. More than a hollow promise, it is a waning sunlight that drives the night away for a millisecond only to allow it to return for a millisecond only to drive it away for a millisecond only to allow it to return for a millisecond and remind you, more than a hollow promise, that we are in this together, that I keep the monsters away while you just stand somewhere, that you leave everything to me but please cooperate and believe.

3. The Light is the optimism that you thought you need, the tinge of your aspirations to get to the other side of the street, the encouragement of caution because despite its oath, it also has limits—deliberate ones that shall help you to become a better person:

4. stand on your own feet, adapt to the worsening environment, survive without the Light, while being aware of its concern; thus, justifying its inefficiency yet maintaining its status as the electric sun that comes as quick as it goes, that exists in most major highways with all its glory and splendour and love by selflessly winking at you—pedestrians—who want to cross, that whispers to your eyes for the sake of being noticed. But also try observing:

5. in dark narrow alleys and boulevards where lumpens thrive, neither the Light’s decoys nor its versions of its ghosts, neither any manifestation nor implication of its presence or absence can be found.

6. Had a rush of vehicles (that fasts like bullets shot through anyone with a bad mouth for the Light) impede a hundred, a million, a thousand, an impending stampede of you—pedestrians, it can do nothing but tell you to remain patient and wait. Else you get hit; and become part of the statistics.

7. The trams have the Light’s righteous path for their track. It reserved its system of straight cemented freeway for the different trailer trucks with different cargoes (gas, arms, petrol, napalm, energy, lumber, mine, culture, other trailer trucks and so on), with familiar owners—other illuminations.

8. The vehicles in the righteous path have the right of way. They care as they shall deliver you—pedestrians—needs that the Light and the other illuminations determined and manufactured for free. For your sake, vehicles appear to pass without regard to you—pedestrians and/or passengers alike.

9. Return the favour to the Light through volunteerism: be passengers, road blocks, truck loads, steering wheels, spare parts, and other components to the freeway structure under the guidance of the illuminations. Else, be a traffic law-abiding pedestrian—always complying, never complaining.

0. Go against neither the flow nor the flaws, or the Light stops flashing, spots on you; and sirens howl.

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