Translating Bob Ong

One of my favorite Filipino authors is Bob Ong because of his wit (er, satire?), his conversational tone in writing and most especially because of the words of wisdom (and a little sentimentality) he shares on his books.

A friend emailed me some popular quotes from BO's books and I chanced upon to translate them for you. For the original quotes in Filipino, see here.

*Update (01/23/09) - If it's really Bob Ong who commented below, he is clarifying that the quotes from where these were taken from aren't really his. Hmm.. got to do some research. I have to re-read all 5 books then. ^^;

Even if you're dense and have no feelings like stone, be careful. Even if you can't feel pain, you are capable of inflicting pain.

Why is it that children hate sleeping in the afternoon; don't they know that when they learn to love they won't be able to sleep even if they want to?

If you love someone you shouldn't love and got hurt, don't blame your heart. It only beats to supply the blood in your body. Now, if you're good at anatomy and you blame instead your hypothalamus which controls your emotions, you're still mistaken! Why? **** Don't blame your body organs for your heartaches in life! Remember: You can only be happy if you learn to accept that it's not your heart, brain, liver or intestine that caused everything that happened to you, but YOU yourself!

It's not sadness or fear that's difficult with loneliness but it's accepting the fact that among the billions and billions of people in the whole world, no one fought for the chance to be with you.

If you're in love with two people, choose the second one. You couldn't love another person if you really loved the first one.

Do you know how great the distance is between two people when their backs are turned against each other? You need to roam around the whole world just so you can face the person you turned your back on.

Let go of the things that hurt you even if it makes you happy. Don't wait for the day when all you feel is pain and your happiness left you.

Love is like a manhole... it's frightening to fall into... and when you do, it's either by accident or you're just plain stupid.

Go and eat siopao with a stuffed cat inside or walk through broken glass on your bare feet, but never never try drugs. If you can't avoid it, seek help from your parents. They know where the cheap suppliers are and they won't cheat on you.

Use your heart to take care of the people you love. Use your head to take care of yourself.

Don't let go of something that you hate to see being held by another person.
Don't hold onto something that you know you'll let go of in the end.
[And] never never hold onto something when you know you're already holding onto another.

If you're not loved by the one you love, don't complain. Because there are people that you don't love but love you.. It's just fair.

I don't like to get used to things that I can live without.

Not everything you can't understand is a fallacy and not everything you understand is truth.

Dream and reach for it. Don't blame your dysfunctional family, your failed relationship, your crippled puppy, or flying cockroaches. If your parents have their shortcomings, you can blame them and be a rebel. Stop your schooling, get married, use drugs, color your hair in the armpits. In the end, you're also the victim. A rebel who haven't proven anything and haven't the sanity to live.

I learned that final exams are not the passing rate of life. It's not a test of multiple choice, identification, true or false, enumeration or fill-in-the-blanks that you answer but an essay that you write everyday. It won't be judged on right or wrong answers, but on the sensibility of what was written. Erasures are allowed.

It's better to fail on doing something than succeed in doing nothing.

***
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Ang Sabi Ko Sa'Yo (English Translation)

I owe Jonat this translation a month ago pa. Sorry for the delay. :(

Here's the original text first:

Ang Sabi Ko Sa'Yo

Bumalong ang dagta
sa hiniwang kaymito.
Namuo sa talim
ng kutsilyo ang ilang patak.

Diyan ako naiwan, mahal,
at hindi sa laman.

- Benilda Santos

And here's my attempt of a translation:

I Tell You

Sap sprung forth
from the wounded fruit.
On the knife's blade,
a few drops congealed.

There I remained, my love,
not in the flesh.

Resource: Tagalog-English Dictionary by L. English

I agree with Jonat that the Filipino version is still more beautiful. Translations cannot compete with the original anyway.

This is the second time a friend asked me to translate the poem. The first one was a Portuguese poem, Onde O Mar Acaba. No, I don't know Portuguese, my friend sent me the English version from which I derived my Filipino translation. Hehehe.

[June 6 update]
Added the word "my" before "love" and removed "and" to denote more emotion. Thanks to Pope for the suggestion and long discussion especially on that last action. O di ba, rhyme? Hehe.

Nakukulangan pa talaga ako sa translation ko. :( Pero masaya na rin ako na masaya si Jonat. :)

Let me bleed

let me bleed, let me feel the pain
of you not wanting me again
let me lie to myself that we are meant to be
and that in the end you'll still come back for me

***

Sometimes I want to tell you all my happiness and sadness but then I cower when I think that you don't care at all.

Sometimes when I cry, it's your shoulder I want to lean on but I know it won't be there.

Sometimes I wish that time was like before when you said t'will be the two of us in the end.

I know... it's too late.

***

It's been too long since I felt poetic. Yet now that I am, I wish I weren't.

The Software Developer's Prayer

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace
where there is code that I should have completed
where there are defects that I should have fixed
where there are deadlines that I should have met.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much as seek as
to be understood as to understand irate clients
to be supported as to support difficult applications
to be valued as to value quality software design.

For it is in debugging that we find errors,
it is in requirements that we find clarity,
and it is in camaraderie that we find harmony in work.

Amen.

-December 2007-

Share: The Dash

The Dash
Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of his friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning...to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth
and spoke of the second with tears,
but he said that what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth,
and now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars, the house, the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard,
are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left.
(You could be at "dash mid-range.")

If we could just slow down enough
to considerwhat's true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.

And...be less quick to anger,
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we've never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile,
remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read
with your life's actions to rehash...
would you be pleased with the things they have to say
about how you spent your dash?


Related Links:

• The Dash Movie. A touching presentation of the poem with beautiful landscapes.
• The Dash Story. Linda Ellis recounts the inspiration behind the poem.

Poem: When I Die

Since it's nearing All Saints and we're kinda melancholic still due to the tragedy , I offer this poem I made in 2002.



When I Die
by neri de castro

when i die, don't grieve for me
i might have a better place to be.

we often grieve when someone dies
not for his death but for our lives
because we lost a kindred soul,
leaving behind a gaping hole.

so when i die, i'll understand
if you'll shed tears upon the sand
but let it not be hard for me
please do not grieve till eternity.

i want you to smile even for a moment
think of the past, the memories spent
remember me at a time of my best
and place it in your heart to rest

and then i'll smile wherever i am
'coz i will never die in time
when i know that we're together
when my life you still remember.

***

More of Neri's literary works.

Poem: Silang Lihim

English translation afterwards. Yet translations don't suffice for the original work even if I am the author.

***Silang Lihim

Ginalugad ko ang mga mukhang nakabitin sa eskaparate
Na isa-isa kong tinanggalan ng maskara
Upang tumambad ang mapuputlang mga pisngi sa liwanag
At matapos isara ang mulagat na mga mata at nakabukang mga bibig,
Iniwan ko rin ang malungkot na silid ng mga nangagkubli

***
Them Secrets

I searched through the hanging faces on the shelf
One by one, I removed their masks
So as to shed light on their pale cheeks
And after closing those wide-open eyes and gaping mouths,
I left the lonely room of those in hiding

Poem: City of Sorrow

City of Sorrow

i was borne in the city of Sorrow;
borne with Sadness cradling me in her arms.
nursed with Tears, crying became my consolation.
afterwhich i was adopted by Loneliness,
who became my constant companion, my friend.

yet to this day, despite growing up,
at night when i lie in my bed of Pain,
clutching my pillow of Grief,
i dream of Mother, dreams of Salvation,
the Reason i still wake up and live.

till now i long to see her but
Death took her away from me.
perhaps you have seen her. pray, tell me
have you known my mother, Happiness?

Second draft, September 2007

Share: Istorya ng Puta

Nakuha ko ito kakabasa sa BobongPinoy. Di rin alam ng nagbahagi kung sino ang gumawa. Pero kahit ako saludo kung sinumang nag-akda nito. Pasubali na lang sa mga bulgar na salitang nakapaloob sa istorya.

Tingin ng mga bobong kapitbahay ko puta daw ako. Nagpapagamit, binabayaran. Sabi nila ako daw ang pinakamaganda at pinakasikat sa aming lugar noon. Ang bango-bango ko daw, sariwa at makinis. Di ko nga alam kung sumpa ito, dahil dito naletse ang kinabukasan ko.

Tara makinig ka muna sa kwento ko, yosi muna tayo.

Alam mo, maraming lumapit sa akin, nagkagusto, naakit. Ang hirap pag lahat sa iyo virgin eh. Tinanggap ko naman silang tao, bakit kaya nila ako ginago? Masakit alalahanin, iniisip ko na lang na kase di sila taga rito, siguro talagang ganoon. Tatlong malilibog na foreigners ang namyesta sa katawan ko, na-rape daw ako. Sa tatlong beses akong nagahasa, ang pinakahuli ang di ko makakalimutan. Parang maski di ko ginusto ang mga nangyari, hinahanap-hanap ko siya. Tinulungan nya kasi akong makalimutan yung mga sadistang Hapon. Kase, ibang-iba ang hagod niya. Umiikot ang mundo ko sa tuwing ginagamit niya ako. Ibang klase siya mag-sorry, lalo pa at kinupkop niya ako at ang mga naging anak ko. Parating ang dami naming regalo - may chocolates, yosi, ano ka! May datung pa! Nakakabaliw siya, alam kong ginagamit nya lang ako pero pagamit naman ako nang pagamit. Sa kanya namin natutunan mag-inggles, di lang magsulat ha! Magbasa pa! Hanggang ngayon, sa tuwing mabigat ang problema ko, siya ang tinatakbuhan ko. 'Yun nga lang, lahat ng bagay may kapalit. Nung kinasama ko siya, guminhawa buhay namin. Sosyal na sosyal kami. Ewan ko nga ba, akala ko napapamahal na ako sa kanya. Akala ko tuloy-tuloy na kaligayahan namin, yun pala unti-unti niya akong pinapatay. P*** ng I**! Sa dami ng lason na sinaksak niya sa katawan ko, muntik na akong malaspag. Ang daming nagsabi na ang tanga tanga ko. Patalsikin ko na daw. Sa tulong ng mga anak ko, napalayas ko ang animal pero ang hirap magsimula. Masyado na kaming nasanay sa sarap ng buhay na naranasan namin sa kanya. Lubog na lubog pa kami sa utang, kulang ata pati kaluluwa namin para ibayad sa mga inutang namin. Sinikap naming lahat maging maganda ang buhay namin. Ayun, mga nasa Japan, Hong Kong, Saudi ang mga anak ko. Yung iba nag-US, Europe. 'Yung iba ayaw umalis sa akin. Halos lahat, wala naman silbi, masaya daw sa piling ko, maski amoy usok ako.

Sa dami ng mga anak ko na nagsisikap na tulungan ang kalagayan namin, siya din ang dami ng mga anak ko na namamantala sa kabuhayan at kayaman na itinatabi ko para sa punyetang kinabukasan naming lahat. Dumating ang panahon na di na kami halos makaahon sa hirap ng buhay. Napakahirap dahil nasanay na kami sa ginhawa at sarap. Ang di ko inaakala ay mismong mga anak ko, ang tuluyang sisira sa akin. Napakasakit tanggapin na malinlang. Akala ko ay makakakita ako ng magiging kasama sa buhay sa mga ahas na ipinakilala ng mga anak ko. Hindi pala. Ang tanga ko talaga. Binugaw ako ng sarili kong mga anak kapalit ng kwarta at pansamantalang ginhawa na nais nilang matamasa. Wala na akong nagawa dahil sa sobrang pagmamahal ko sa aking mga anak. Wala akong ibang yaman kundi ganda ko. Pinagamit ko na lang ng pinagamit ang sarili ko, basta maginhawa lang ang mga anak ko. Usap-usapan ako ng mga kapitbahay ko. May nanghihinayang, namumuhi at naaawa. Puta na kase ang isang magandang tulad ko.

Alam mo, gusto ko na sanang tumigil sa pagpuputa kaso ang laki talaga ng letseng utang ko eh. Palaki pa ng palaki. Kulang na kulang. Paano na lang ang mga anak ko naiwan sa aking punyetang puder? Baka di na ako balikan o bisitahin ng mga nag-abroad kong mga anak. Hindi na importante kung laspagin man ang ganda ko, madama ko lang ang pagmamahal ng mga anak ko. Malaman nila na gagawin ko ang lahat para sa kanila. Sa tuwing titingin ako sa salamin, alam ko maganda pa rin ako. Meron pa din ang bilib sa akin. Napapag usapan pa din. Sa tuwing nakikita ko ang mukha ko sa salamin, nakikita ko ang mga anak ko. Tutulo na lang ang mga luha ko ng di ko namamalayan. Ang gagaling nga ng mga anak ko, namamayagpag kahit saan sila pumunta. Mahusay sa kahit anong gawin. Tama man o mali. Proud ako sa kanila. Kaso sila, kabaligtaran ang nararamdaman para sa akin. Sa dami ng mga anak ko, iilan lang ang may malasakit sa akin. May malasakit man, nahihilaw. Ni di nga ako kinikilalang ina. Halos lahat sila galit sa isa't isa. Walang gusto magtulungan, naghihilahan pa. Ang dami ko ng pasakit na tiniis pero walang sasakit pa nung sarili kong mga anak ang nagbugaw sa akin. Kinapital ang laspag na ganda ko. Masyado silang nasanay sa sarap ng buhay. Minsan sa pagtingin ko sa salamin, ni hindi ko na nga kilala sarili ko.

Dadating na naman ang pasko, sana maalala naman ako ng mga anak ko. Isang buwan pa, magbabagong taon na. Natatakot ako sa taong darating. Ngayon pa lang usap usapan na ang susunod na pagbubugaw ng ilan sa mga anak ko. Sana may magtanggol naman sa akin, ipaglaban naman nila ako. Gusto kong isigaw: "INA NINYO AKO! MAHALIN NYO NAMAN AKO!"

Sige, dumadrama na ako. Masisira na ang make up ko nito eh. Salamat ha, pinakinggan mo ako.

Ay sorry, di ko nasabi pangalan ko.

Pilipinas nga pala.

Bangkang Papel

Matindi ang buhos ng ulan. Kumulog nang malakas. Nawalan ng kuryente. Tinanggal ko ang saksakan ng TV at lumabas ng bahay.

Muling nabasa ang mga nakatabing sinampay dahil sa ubod nang lakas ng ulan. Pati mga nakatiwangwang na batya ay napuno ng tubig-ulan. Ni hindi ko maaninag ang kalangitan dahil sa hagulgol ng kalikasan. Tumambad sa akin ang namumuong bangka sa aming bakuran. Hinanap ko ang pinanggalingan ng agos at nabaling ako sa maliit na eskinitang pagitan ng aming bahay at ng pader ng kapitbahay. Animo'y naging ilog ang eskinita dahil sa bilis at lakas ng daloy ng tubig. Kasabay ng pag-agos ng tubig-baha, may namuong ideya sa aking isipan --- bangkang papel.

Pumasok ako sa bahay. Ikinuwento ko kay Mama ang mga basang sinampay. Lumabas siya upang tingnan ang mga ito at napansin din ang baha. Naibahagi ko ang pagnanasang maglaro ng bangkang papel. Ngunit nasambit ko rin ang panghihinayang dahil masisira lang din naman ang papel bandang huli. Hindi inalintana ni Mama ang aking pag-aalinlangan at inudyok pa ako upang ituloy ang paglalaro. Masaya kaming bumalik sa loob ng bahay at naghanap ng gamit na papel.

Ang tagal ko na rin palang hindi gumagawa ng bangkang papel. Ni hindi ko na maalala kung paano. Tinuruan akong muli ni Mama. Tulad nang ako'y musmos pa, ginaya at sinundan ko ang bawat tuping ginawa niya sa hawak na papel. Galak na galak ako nang natapos namin ang aming mga bangka. Simula na nang laro!

Lumabas kaming muli ng bahay. Pinag-aralan ko kung saan magandang ibaba ang bangka upang matagal-tagal ang kanilang paglalakbay. Buong kasabikan kong ibinaba ang aking bangka. Gayundin si Mama. Inanod ng baha ang mga bangka subalit hindi pa nangalahati sa kanilang kurso ay naharang sila ng uka sa semento.

Natawang nalungkot ako. Gusto kong makita ang matagumpay nilang paglalayag. Nang una'y pinilit kong sundutin ang bangka sa may kalayuan ngunit hindi umabot. Sa aking masidhing hangarin, kumuha na ako ng payong at nilapitan ang mga bangka. Inabot ng aking mga nanlalamig at basang paa ang aking bangka upang ilihis at ipagpatuloy ang kanyang layag. Subalit huli na ang lahat. Masyado nang nabasa ang papel kaya hindi na kinayang maglayag pa.

Mabuti pa noong bata ako, walang sawa akong gumagawa ng bangkang papel kahit lulunurin lang ng tubig.

Dumikit na lang ang papel sa semento at bumalik na ako sa tarangkahan.

Setyembre 2007

If Today is My Last

If today is the last day of my life:

I wanna thank you for sharing yourself with me,
for making me laugh when I don't feel like smiling,
for listening to my wild ideas,
and understanding my insanities.

I'm sorry for all of my shortcomings
-- big or small --
for not listening well,
or not understanding you more.

Let me tell you that I love you.
And if ever we do see each other again,
may I show you what I feel
rather than take you for granted.

08.06.2007

Rev1:08.07.2007

Onde O Mar Acaba in Filipino

Ang tema'y nagbabago, kung saan nagsisimula ang dagat.
Ang pakikipagsapalaran ba ay ang dagat o yaong hubog
na hinuhubog matapos, na siyang mabubuhay
sa alaala ng mga araw? aking nagugunita ang isang isla
kung saan dinala ako ng dagat at nagbukas
sa akin ng iba't ibang pintuan ng karunungan. Ang karagatan
noo'y nagsimula, nagwakas pagkaraan, doon
tanging patuloy umagos, at inuugoy ako sa mga gabi
ng mga layag na lilis, ng mga pinyang hungkag
ng mga matataas na palong niyapos ng pagnanasang
sinliwanag ng mga bakas ng sinag ng buwan.
Sa bandang huli, aking napagtantong nawalan ako nang gawain
dahil walang mga India o mula sa mga prinsesa
ang gantimpala ng isang ngiti. Ngunit ang mga laban
ay lumagi para sa iba, mga torpedo at kanyon
ay hindi malayo. Yaong digmaang
ako'y nagkunwang bahagi. Bangka'y dumaong
iisipin ko ang isla, luntiang tulad ng isang slogan,
doon hindi ako nagkakasakit tulad ng, sa dagat,
nangyari sa akin sa mga bapor ng Insulana.
Hindi ako mandaragat. Ang sinaunang mundo
ay maaaring mabuhay sa mga aklat, mga siping nilimbag
nagparami sa atlas, ang ibang mga makata
pinaliguan ang kanilang mga tula sa Gresya. Ako
ay naroon, nakatigil sa oras, kung saan
nagsimula at nagtapos ang dagat, naghihintay
para matulog ang orasan sa pangunahing bulwagan
upang simulan ang pagbabalik. Ang aking tahanan
ay nasa silangan, doon ang dagat ay
magwawakas para sa akin, at mula sa aplaya lamang
makikita ko ito, ibubulong sa akin ng imahinasyon
na ito'y nag-umpisa sa aking mga paa at sa paglalayag
ay hindi maisasama. Isang mukhang walang lihim
na sumasakit sa mga itim na alon, at kumakaway sa akin
habang ang eroplano'y bumababa at nagkakalat
ng isang dagat ng mga ulap na maghihiwalay at magsisimulang muli.

[Isinalin ni Nerissa De Castro]

Literally Speaking

I don't know why Jopay brought me to this situation. I'm actually translating an English-translated poem to Filipino. (English-translated because it's in Portuguese originally). My deadline is supposedly tomorrow. :s

I'm not sure of the title (because it was sent with no title or author) but what I found in the net was Onde o Mar Acaba by Egito Goncalves. I'll post my translation by next week, if Jopay approves of it. :D

Onde o Mar Acaba (in English)

The theme changes, where the sea begins.
Is adventure the sea or that form
which forms after, which will live
in the memory of days? i remember an island
the sea took me and opened
to me various gates of wisdom. The ocean
began before, finished after, there it
only flowed on, rocking me in nights
of furled sails, of easy pineapples
of high masts touched by longing
bright as the moonshine's traces.
Later, i realised i was out of work
because there were no Indias or from princesses
the reward of a smile. But fights
existed for others, torpedoes and canons
weren't far away. That war
I only pretended to be part of. Sailboat anchored
i would think the island, green as a slogan,
there i didn't get sick as, at sea,
happened to me on the ships of Insulana.
Sailor i was not. The ancient world
could be lived in books, offset reproductions
multiplied the atlas, some poets
would bathe their poems in Greece. I
was there, stopped in time, where
the sea began and ended, waiting
for the clock of sleep in the main square
to strike the return. My home
was in the orient, there the sea would
finish for me, and only when from the beach
i could see it, imagination could whisper to me
that it started by my feet and from the voyage
would be excluded. A face without secrets
that black tides sicken, and waves to me
when the plane descends and scatters
a sea of clouds that disband and begin again.


I'm having great difficulty in translating offset reproductions. :'(
Any suggestions?

[Why am I doing it? For somebody else's foreign language class. I can say no but what the heck, I like the challenge. It really is a challenge. Adik e no? XD]

***

We're going to Nueva Ecija this Saturday. Yay! ^_^

I hope the weather cooperates and won't rain down on us so we could trek towards the falls. I'll post a pic or two of our 24-hour adventure by next week also.

***

Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix is now showing!!!!

[Ala lang.]

XP

Air Con

the air conditioner droning through the beats of our hearts

humming a lullabye that would set us to sleep

washing the white walls of perturbance

as we go along our usual work

***

A/N : Revision to be decided still.

Hopefully without an aircon humming along.

Ink on Pink

Never mind the title. Can't find a suitable title and since this post should've been a part of the previous post, that's just a tribute for the bluish-violet ink on my pink(ish) nail.

I am currently my usual self: wandering.

That's figuratively speaking, mind you.

***

Been reading Bo's blog. Found these stories:

One day, a man was in Paris and attended Mass. After communion, he went to the altar to light some candles. He was surprised to see a golden telephone on the altar, and with this message: “$10,000 per minute”. He shook his head, shocked at how expensive it was. He asked the priest in the Church why it was so expensive, and the cleric said, “Because that’s a call directly to God.”
“Wow,” the man gushed and went on his way.

The man went to Germany, England, Spain, Portugal, etc., and was fascinated to see exactly the same golden telephone in all the churches, all of them charging the same $10,000 per minute for a phone call to God.

But finally, when he went to a church in Rome, he saw the same golden telephone on the altar, but with a different message: “50 cents per minute.” Shocked, he asked the priest, “Father, why is it cheap here? All over Europe, it was $10,000 per minute? Why is yours only fifty cents per minute?”

The priest smiled, “Son, you’re in Rome. It’s a local call.”

-0-

One day, a tourist with a camera visited a monastery—and saw how austere the room of a monk was. He could only see a single bed that looked more like a bench, an old table and a wooden chair that wasn’t very comfortable. Nothing else.

When a monk came by, he asked him, “Father, how could you live this way? Where are your things? Your computer? Your refrigerator? Your stereo?”

The monk smiled at him and asked, “Where are your things, my friend?”

The tourist said, “My things? I’m just passing by here. I don’t have my stuff with me. It’s at home.”

The monk said: “So am I. I’m also passing by here. My stuff is at home as well.”

Bo Post Scripts:

• PS1. Get inspired. You can watch Bo on KerygmaTV on ABC Channel 5, every Tuesday, 10pm. Spread the word!
• PS2. For KerygmaFamily members and Supporters!
  You can now Donate To KerygmaFamily using Globe/Touch Mobile's Gcash!
  Register first, following the instructions on this website. Questions?
  Then to donate, type DONATEKFAM and send to 2882.
  Example: DONATE 500 1234 KFAM and send to 2882.

***

.:Beware of poeticisms ahead:.

***

Still on romantic frantics:

The purpose of a relationship is not to have someone who might complete you. But to have someone whom you might share your incompleteness with.

***

Joined PinoyPoets last month and dabbled into their discussion and poetry. Felt disheartened when some commented on one of my poem's emotional tone esp. with a striking quote from Oscar Wilde:

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.

Simply stated, it hurt like hell. Poetry has been my comfort, my breath. However I challenged myself to go beyond the criticism and lifted it to a positive level.

Don't ever let someone tell you, you can't do something. Not even me.

Remember that? Of course, it's from "The Pursuit of Happyness." And I mean me when it said "Not even me." Most of the time, we don't do something because we limit ourselves in the box we seem fit for us. Don't.

So I researched further on Wilde's wild remark and found the complete quote from his work, Intentions:

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling. To be natural is to be obvious, and to be obvious is to be inartistic.

It did sound sane so I reflected on how I could improve my work.
After some time I got the courage to post a new work of mine, readying myself for criticism:

A Kiss
05/08/2007

These lips are longing for

... A dewdrop mist
covering the leaves
in the morning light

... A sweet roll of candy
dipped in honey-coated film
engraved on a child's dreams

... A fresh breeze of rainpour
on parched, thirsted ground
with the colours of the rainbow

... A drizzle of chocolate
on ice cream coned out
embracing the cold and warmth

... A kiss, more than ever
of love, life and joy
of happily ever after

Got some useful comments and revised it to a more different theme but something better (I hope). Well, I'm actually happy how it turned out to be. Here's my exact post:

Rewritten with a new concept. I was just playing with the topic till a different story formed, for the better I hope. Thanks to Jonar for the suggestions and, again, to Rachel esp. for the anticipation. :)

***
A Kiss
by Nerissa De Castro
05/15/2007 Rev2

As a dewdrop mist
in the delicate morning light
succulently covers the leaves;
I sought refuge in
the softness of your moist lips,
a refreshing embrace of dampness.

As a fresh drop from rainpour
on parched thirsted ground
reflects the colours of the rainbow;
Your exploring tongue discovers
my tainted mouth, unleashing
a tender passion I've let go once.

As a light touch from a wistful breeze
on a glassy window pane
embraces the cold and warmth;
I freely accept your fiery lips
into my own loneliness
despite our soon goodbye.

sand castles

Building castles in the sand

Groveling dirt by the hand

cotton candy

Swirls of sweets beyond my touch

Cruising smoothly in a rush

Screaming silently in my heart

Someday soon i shall be part...

ostrie's lesson

ostrie on the side

ostrie on the front

kissing he don't mind

but cruelty's not good

exasperated

time is dwindling so fast
yet the progress bar's not moving past
the mark to signal my salvation
"operation timed out" my frustration

desperation piling up high
like the rabbit running by
but overtaken by the slow turtle
gasping for breath on the last hurdle

pick up speed, could you hear?
but the answer's just: i'm a computer
i go by my pace, i have my own style
so why don't you just wait for your while?

****************************************************************************
even this post doesn't cooperate! aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhh!!!!
i'm going home!

the child within us

...making believe...

...playing games...

... wishing, dreaming...

... candy land...

... petty quarrels...

... childhood in a nutshell...