Hi everybody. Posted this on my blogs. Just so you know. Keep us in your prayers.

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Tatay suffered a stroke last Saturday and we’ve been busy talking to people and making arrangements for his recovery. The past few days have been pretty crazy.

Very briefly:

He went to his office at the UPLB Graduate School early this Saturday to do some overtime. He was alone at his office when he suffered a stroke. He had the presence of mind to make it across the room and knock on the door repeatedly until a couple of students at IH heard him and came to his aid. They called the University Police Force.

The police responded immediately and rushed him to the infirmary. That was when someone called my mom to tell her what had happened. They brought him to Healthserv to get some tests and a CT scan. By that time news of his stroke was already spreading rapidly. People started going to the infirmary to wait for the Tatay’s ambulance to return. Some of our churchmates started organizing volunteers to pray for him every hour of the day. Read the rest of this entry »

I’ve been getting some encouraging feedback about ”For Dui, On Her Birthday.”  At least fifteen people gave the thumbs up. Which is a numerical milestone for me, considering the small (very small) handful of friends who give me their occasional comments and  suggestions on my ”real” poetry.

Now that I think about it, I got more rave reviews from my friends and family over my kiddie poem than over my “real” poetry. 

Read the rest of this entry »

Seen on balloons at a funeral: “Condolences! For your loss!”

 NGWE?

An explanation for my silence: I was sick.

Sometime last week, I got a tickle in my throat, which progressed into a cough. Eventually, the little band of germs that had landed in my throat decided to stay there on a semi-permanent basis, and proceeded to have billions and billions of offspring. The cough turned into a strange, wheezing sound that reminded me of an old car refusing to start. My nose was so clogged up that I could feel a vacuum forming in my head every time I attempted to inhale. And then there was a fever that wouldn’t make up its mind whether it was coming or going. And then there were those horrible headaches that felt more like irate migraines walking around in cleats. Five whole days of misery interspersed with weird dreams.

Must get my momentum back.

http://www.dalityapi.com/makata/

Makata Issue No.9, September 2006 is now available online featuring the works of our home-grown and international poets.

Poetry
by Jaime Agpalo, Aurora Antonovic, Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal, Mary Ann N. Cariquez, Lynette B. Carpio, Ravelth B. Castro, Cyril Dabydeen, Zig Madamba Dulay, Manuel Lino G. Faelnar, C W Hawes, Honey Pie Maniego, Noahlyn Maranan, Pia Marquez-Matic, Anthony Pabon, Alexander Martin Remollino, Rey Tamayo Jr. and Ella Wagemakers.

For those who have heard this for the unth time, ignore this post.

This is my entire career as a recording artist:

 Download (right click and download, yes?)

Thanks to ioHann Garcia for the gooeytar accompaniment.

*snooty museum curator impression*

Welcome to the opening of my photo gallery.

*polite applause*

Before we begin our ribbon cutting ceremony, I would like to thank mish for setting up the whole thing (and patiently explained how to run it afterwards ), as well as the people who created Gallery2.

*dramatic pause*

*snips ribbon*

Okay, you guys can go in and check out the pictures now.

This room grows more cluttered by the minute. Small scraps of paper with random scribbling accumulate in corners like detritus. My mind sheds them like dead leaves.

Funny how seemingly pointless things often have purpose.

Headed home, anticipating a nice cup of coffee and an hour or two with a good book. When I finally reached the front gate, I rummaged through my bag for my bunch of keys. I shook the bag, hoping to hear the familiar muffled jingle-jangle. I emptied out my bag. Nada.

So I sat down on the curb, and sent a text message to the folks. My dad was at work and wouldn’t be home for another hour, and my mom wasn’t replying. So I decided to wait at my grandparents’ place next door. Just my luck, no one was home.

So I walked back out of the subdivision, waited along the highway, got on a jeep, got stuck in twenty minutes of traffic and headed to my father’s office, hoping to kill some time there and catch a ride home. Just when the jeep was a mere two blocks away from said office, I got a belated text message from my dad saying that he had to go to a meeting elsewhere.

I got off the jeep, muttering darkly about misplaced keys, wasted time and jeep rides through traffic. Then I looked up and saw Freedom Park.

I spent another hour or so perched on a park bench under a tree watching afternoon turn slowly into dusk. Which isn’t so slow after all if you’re enjoying yourself.

They say that nothing is random if you wait long enough. Even lost keys*.

(*I found my keys when I got home later today by the way. They were hanging on the key rack where I left them last night.)