oh captain my captain, by walt whitman – i first learned the poem in 2nd grade english class, 43 years or so ago. my english teacher, miss patao, asked me to join the school declamation contest after she heard me recite a few verses. i won gold.
i am now 50 years old and to this day, i can recite every line.
matagal na niyang pinaghihinalaan na ang dahilan ng pagtubo ng buhok sa kanyang tenga ay sanhi ng masamang guhit ng tadhana. pag tahimik sa gabi at mayroon siyang pagkakataong magmuni-muni, parating pumapasok sa isip niya ang matagal ng sinasabi sa kanya ng kaibigan niyang si mario: “pwede mong piliin ang iyong mga kaibigan”, ani ni mario sa kanya, “pero iisa lang ang ina mo”.
sa dinami-rami naman kasi ng pwedeng maging nanay, ang natapat na maging nanay niya ay balbas sarado.
if you only have time to visit one site today, make sure you visit “the little prince”. it brings back memories of high school and the many times we were asked to read the compulsary books (and write the report afterwards, of course).
english teacher gives you the required reading at the start of the school year. tamad kasi kaya, you don’t pay attention to it until it’s the last day before submission. and so you read (with a whole lot of complaints…e.g. “pano ko babasahin ito eh wala namang pictures!”). and then slowly you like it..and then finally, you like it so much that you’re hooked.
twenty years later you ask yourself why the FU@#*^&!@$#@$NG hell did you spend $350 on books on a single shopping binge… and so, you blame “the little price” and “animal farm” and “the lord of the flies” and all the other books that were forced fed to you a long long time ago.
idol ko si nonoy marcelo. isa siya sa pinaka-magaling
na cartoonist sa pilipinas. bokod sa strip na “aling otik”,
siya rin ang lumikha sa “ikabod bubwit”. ang mga kwento ni
ka nonoy sa ikabod bubwit at ang iba’t ibang daga ng dagalandia
ang naging salamin ng buhay nating mga pinoy
lalo na nung panahon ni marcos.
i got a copy of stephen king’s “on writing” at the airport on my way home to manila. it’s in my bag and keeping me company on my bus ride to and from work. very interesting – makes me want to go ahead and write my own story about the couple in new york he mentions in his exercise.
in my version though, it happens in the slum area of bagong barrio, kalookan. the husband abuses the wife and has incest with his daughter. one night in a fit of rage, the husband accidentally hits his wife in the face and head. she goes crazy. he goes to jail. the daughter grows up in the streets of monumento – sniffing glue and selling her body to the bus drivers who ply the UE Kalookan – Baclaran route. they do it at night in a makeshift banig, right below the statue of andres bonifacio.