ngaa

10/21/08

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The worst thing about poetry is that if you say you are a poet, no one takes you seriously for the rest of the night.

-Heather Schimel-

 

 

Ungas makes me feel like Tina Paner ever

 

 

and yes,

that’s why I always dig people who call me in the most humiliating,

discriminating way but still read every piece of crap that i write and

the way they paste their hands on their cheeks, take their eyeglasses off, grin and shake their heads in sheer awe or filth-coated discomfort.

 

 

 

a little interview for a little something:

 

Tell us about your poems.

They are hobos attending a Lit Class. They have testis. They are the view of the sea from the rooftops. They are exaggerated unachieved pasts. They are me but way bolder and more honester (yes double comparative, honey). They are it-begins-to-rain. They are sadness trapped in a happy girl with polka-dotted skirt.

 How long have you been writing?

I wrote diaries since my mother sent me “cute” journals. My sister used to steal them and read the name of my crushes out loud. I used to like a studio photographer in my little town. No wonder, I had so many ID pictures. 1×1, 2×2…sometimes I conclude answers in a non-sense demeanor.

 

What do you think is your biggest poetic achievement to date?

Writing an oratorical piece that sounded like a poem, drunk. Very drunk from the prom. I guess the judges picked my work over those that were written by English professors because my erasures were poetic. The grammar errors were like Dickinson’s pee with seashell floaters.

 

What’s the best thing about writing poetry?

You can always save your goddamn English and leave readers thinking that you kick ass. Seriously, it’s more of the soul than the skin.

Got any suggestions for young, upcoming poets?

Read others’ writings. Others do not exclude daily people, an emo boy’s journal, a mother’s snail mails, a resignation letter, a death threat, the mushiest love letter to ever hit the mailbox and ever hit the postman’s fingertips in an ever giddy sunny day, a pupil’s “ang aking pinakamatalik na kaibigan” and so on. Listen to music. Stop pretending. Stop impressing too much. Chop your prose and call it poetry. Who cares. Breathe and spill.


Who/what influences your poetry?

It all begins here “.

 

 

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Posted by modernpatadyong at 1:11:00 | permalink

Previous Comments

Amiga, you are one of my influences, the amazing drive to draw the world with words!

Posted by Dee at October 21, 2008, 8:15 am

LOLOLOL!!! (kahinumdom ko, lain ba to pasabot ani sa ilonggo?)

you so kick ass!

honesters. polka dot skirts. Dickiinson’s pee! idol jud tika to da maazz!

tol, love you! hug beh.

ug gwapa kaayo ka sa sketch!!!! ug kinadaghanang exclamation point to ha. my gas abelgas. LOL. *glomps at ya*

Posted by kimay at October 21, 2008, 8:31 am

@dee: salamat gid miga ko :)

@kimay: mahilig jud ka utol sa inabnoy. paliti ko ahem sa divisoria beh ;)

Posted by modernpatadyong at October 21, 2008, 6:42 pm

Uyyy..sige! hahaha na excite na naman ko! and i don’t know why i just though of this now but don’t u think we should exchange numbers? :D mine is 09158350348

Posted by Dee at October 22, 2008, 10:02 am

siya

 

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she likes seashore naps and the view of everything from the bus window. she likes tiny moments and the small spaces between faces when people talk.

 

sometimes, she wakes up to that odd feeling of being a fallen leaf, an old tree, an azotea or a waitress somewhere-- talking to a taxicab driver about that random song on the radio.

 

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 poetry as visual art

 powets do kick ass

 iPud (ako, too)

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and this. a proof that:

how you see LIFE is how

you actually see YOUR self.


 

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maddening spurt:

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 “The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”

 

-Jack Kerouac-