Do You Still Hang Your Words in Air?

#WordsinAirProjectNo2

Do you still hang your words in air, ten years
unfinished, glued to your notice board, with gaps
or empties for the unimaginable phrase --
unerring Muse who makes the casual perfect?



|From a poem by Elizabeth Bishop to Robert Lowell

Writing Tip: Mark Passages that Please You

Train yourself to be aware. 

Mark passages that please you and reread them, 

searching out why. 

Underscore colorful figures of speech, 

taste their particular favor, 

pay special attention to rhythms. 

#WordsinAirProjectNo1

My Heart's Thanksgiving

Light of the world. My rooftop view.

Thank you for the morning dew on a mango leaf. It looks like mercury from a broken thermometer.

Thank you for the great peace the mountains have, unmoved and never undone- just like you.

Thank you for the little birds. I wonder where they go when it rains.

Thank you for the trees. Have they ever been this green?

Thank you for the sunrise, for a new day, another chance. Your hope for us is endless.

Thank you for my dad and for his soft, soft heart. He is getting old.

Thank you for my mom; truly i love how mischievous she is. There is no telling what she's up to next.

Thank you for times like this - for quiet mornings on the rooftop with you.

I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.

Thank you for my siblings. Each one brings endless lessons yet to be learned. They know exactly where to push my buttons.

Thank you for the cold morning breeze on my face. It soothes my soul.

Thank you for mothers who prepare breakfast .White smokes above little houses- aroma of love rising up to the sky.

Thank you for little birds on sky cables and TV antennas.

Thank you for this peace. Let me have this kind of peace when I die, but not yet.

The Lord by wisdom founded the earth; by understanding he established the heavens;

by his knowledge the depths were broken up, and clouds drop down dew.

I am not worthy of you, but you stoop down so low I can hold you in the palm of my hands just like how you are holding me. 

Thank you, thank you, and thank you.

The Voice - Uwahig(Original Filipino Song)

The Voice Philippines - Blind Auditions: Juvie Pelos - Uwahig (Original Filipino Song) 

I cannot get over how beautiful this is. 

I felt like I'm in another dimension where fairies dwell. 

It reminds me of my grandmother and her friend lola Trining and their great, great grandmothers. 

It reminds me of a time where my lola used to bring us kids to the place where she grew up: in the mountains; deep, deep in the forest, where we have to say "bila-bila" once in a while so snakes won’t bite us-our magic word. At a time where we have to walk silently and say excuse me to unseen beings (fairies/enkantos) as a sign of respect for them. 
As a child we were scared of stories of fairies distorting people's faces because of people passing by their place without due regard for proper behavior. 

It reminds me of the time where me and my childhood friends went hiking up and we got lost, so lost, a dog found us and we followed him all the way down and emerged at a nearby Nipa Hut. As we were going down we traced a river with no water that has big flat stones as its bed and trees so big and old. It felt like it existed when the earth was so young. And you know it's just so holy and you have to keep quiet so as not to disturb the peace because other beings are there and you just know in your heart that they are there. 

It reminds me of my ancestors and the stories they tell. 

This song does it for me. As Apple de ap would say, it took me way, way back home; it took me to my roots.

Living Life Like This

O how I long to write you poems

for miracles to slow me down,

for intentions to start my day right

Send my roots rain

Wash me like spring,

on my dreams a bit of dew.

And in the morning-

meet me.

The Education of Little Tree

The education of Little Tree is a book by Forest Carter. The story is about an Indian boy who grew up with his Grandma and Grandpa. It is the first book I read this year. I loved it! I was already taken the first time I read it. It seems like the book is a gentle Cherokee hostess touring you around their way of life. Letting you see things. Halfway through the book I felt like I am already one of them. That's how enchanting the book was. The forest, the trees... One beautiful sentence after another like:

One little patch of fog would come around the end of a mountain like a silver boat and bump into another one and they would melt together and take off up a hollow.

There is not anything like dawn from the top of the high mountains. 

My head swirled after reading that sentence and I felt the urge to want to go to the mountains and experience the dawn at the top of it. That's how badly affected I am with the book. It made my head swim.

Nuggets of wisdom sprinkled the book which made we wish I could live like them.

“Grandma said when you come on something that is good, first thing to do is share it with whoever you can find; that way, the good spreads out to where no telling it will go.” 

"Grandma's name was Bonnie Bee. I knew that when I heard him late at night say, "I kin ye, Bonnie Bee", he was saying "I love ye," for the feeling was in the words. And when they would be talking and Granma would say, "Do you kin me, Wales?" and he would answer, "I kin ye." it meant "I understand ye." To them love and understanding was the same thing. Grandma said you couldn't love something you didn't understand; nor could you love people, nor God, if you didn't understand the people and God." 

The book was so mystical - characters could sense the trees, stars, changing of seasons and spirits. It was so mystical I believed it.

That's why I was shocked to find (google) that there were many complaints against the book claiming that it was fraud and that the author was really not Little Tree, and to top it all he was a racist. I did not care. I'm glad he wrote it. And im pretty sure he had somehow understood people and learned to love regardless of race for him to write this. I felt the spirit of the book (and the sincerity of the man behind it) and I am glad he wrote it.

I am an emotional reader. When I read this near the end,

Little Tree, I must go. Like you feel the trees, feel for us when you are listening. we will wait for you. Next time will be better. All is well. Granma."   

I could not hold it in. I cried like Pine Billy would. I cried with a glad heart for it was such a good story. I cried knowing that all is good. Life is good. And that it is possible. You can listen and talk to trees. I love trees. I love this book. I think it is true. All is told in honesty. No assumptions, no pretensions, just what is.

This is the kind of book I want to read again from time to time for the rest of my life.

How We Say Sorry At Home

 In our family we never say sorry when we truly are sorry.

I don't know why but it has always been that way ever since I could remember. I guess it kind of embarrass us to say sorry (I'm not sure if this is what my siblings and my parents feel but it's certainly what i feel)

The usual kind of saying sorry for me is to ask favor, because talking is hard to do when you know you are wrong or when you're hurting. I call it pride. I think I am a proud person, and I've been trying to keep my pride at bay so it won’t get in the way. It gets in the way sometimes. And when it does, I am indifferent. I won't talk nor would I look at you. It takes a lot of control and humility not to harbor and nurture hate especially when I know I am in the right.

This knowing of being in the right does not help in building relationships because it builds pride. I have seen relatives not being okay for years - each insisting they are in the right and too proud to ask forgiveness.

If I am not careful I may end up like them. A person has to be awake enough to notice that he is angry because anger nurtured, I noticed, turns into hate, and hate carried too long  becomes indifference. And I don't ever want to carry hate nor indifference for years ever again. O, the things you will miss not enjoying each other’s company!

When I'm sorry and too stubborn to admit it, I ask for favor, -HAHA! simple favors like 'Could you get me the water please' or 'Can I borrow your cellphone?' it means I have forgiven you, or that I want us to be okay now, and can we move on already.

My family gets it. So when they still won’t talk after I made the first move it means they are not yet ready to forgive but it is okay because they know that I’m over it already. 

Another thing when I am sorry and when I am wrong (I am wrong usually means disobedience and talking back at my parents -- even when I am in the right I feel wrong at fighting back.

I feel guilty when I talk back with rage, I feel guilty that I am not able to control my anger, and I feel guilty because it is a sign of disrespect.)

The biggest challenge for me at home is to honor my parents because I feel old enough to talk back. I don't like being told what to do. I especially don't like being nagged at for any reason at all. I am old enough for it! Haven't I outgrown my bad habits already? (Disappointed) I feel like I don't deserve to be treated that way. And that feeling of entitlement gets me in trouble.

Sometimes I surprise myself erupting like a raging volcano. Eruption happens and I am truly sorry afterward. And when I am truly sorry and guilty I do favor. I clean the house or do things that I know would please my parents. Or I would just simply obey. And my parents, they get it. I have never heard any of my family member say sorry. They also have their own way of saying it. And I get it.  

This is how we do things at home.

This is how we heal over and over again.