The Unreachable Star

A Palanca award is like an Oscar to the Filipino writer - it sticks to the winner's name. It announces to writers' circles that this particular writer has arrived. It opens doors to great projects and probably even leads to a book or a movie in the future.

Probably, the only Palanca I'll ever receive in my lifetime is the Palanca letter from my mother, which I got when I attended the Days with the Lord retreat while in law school. Every year, I download the contest rules, toy with the idea of joining, and then decide not to. It's Palanca season once again and I actually could have found the time to write, except I have not been in the right mood to do so for the past decade.

Perhaps I have made this writer's block get in the way, and have not found enough ways to be in touch with my creative side. My writer-friends say that they submit entries to the Palancas even if they don't win, as it is good exercise to prepare and polish one or several pieces of writing. I wish them all the best.

I am too lazy, uninspired, and scared to take the plunge. Until then I will remain unknown and unskilled, happy to keep my blogs and journals, and safe from the threat of failure.

Smooth Talker

There and not there

In the space where I thought I had met you,

I have found a pebble.

All my love reduced to a pebble.

Unlike some people, I refuse to talk to a pebble.

Sometimes I see shadows moving,

hear voices whispering,

and think, My rescuers have come.

With tools and spectacles, they study the pebble,

which I insist is not mine, and they leave.

I have memories in chaos.

Words, songs, scenes, moments:

All mishandled; best forgotten.

I look for recognition, and ask

If you have left the key with me.

You made me see beyond this space and time,

Challenged me to reach,

Encouraged me to leap,

And left me in the air.

I should not be so surprised.

With teetering faith and questions upon questions,

I walk back and forth.

Your pebble is a smooth pendant I hang on my neck,

A rock weighing me down,

The universe outside of me.

I am at once a feeling being,

Exposed for the world to see,

And I am free.

What can a pebble do to me?

Nothing.

It Doesn't Happen to Everyone (Why Fairy Tales are for Fairies)

This was my idea for a book, and some friends even said they would contribute a chapter each. But I could not figure out a way to avoid to write with bitterness (for the subject is teeming with such possibilities), so I postponed the project until I was objective enough to face it.

The song says "fairy tales can come true; it could happen to you". Well, it could but it doesn't mean it would.  

So what to do when the fairy tale does not have a happy ending?  When Cinderella's prince doesn't look for the owner of the glass slipper and runs off with one of the bejeweled princesses scattered around his castle?  When Sleeping Beauty isn't kissed back to life?  When Snow White is left to suffer Death by Apple Poisoning?  When there are more princesses than princes in the land?

Well, real life does not have neat and simplistic endings, and they are not usually written until after decades and decades of twists and turns.  

The people with seemingly charmed lives are not happy all the time.  They could be trapped in a permanent restlessness due to a lack of exposure to failure and disappointment.  They could be brandishing their perfect lives to make up for an emptiness they cannot fathom.  Nobody has it all.

As for the pretty women out there who were brought up expecting men should recite poetry, deliver moonbeams, and ride horses, they should realize that such fairy tales are meant for fairies alone.  In the real world, things happen differently.  There may be a happy ending yet, but it may not come in the expected time or way.  This should not stop them from being the lead star in their respective lives.  

I have more to say on this subject, but I just might write a book about it.  With tenderness, and not bitterness, I hope.

We all like to wait for the prince, but we were meant to see the King.  A huge paradigm shift is needed for that to be the focus of our lives.  May we not miss out on the opportunity for that to happen to us.  

Fewer Words; More Meaning

I've been accused of keeping another blog where I lived a different life. Sometimes that's true, except both are fed to my Multiply site.

I did some Haiku practice, or whatever this is. It’s been years since freshman English class.

1. Oh my no means yes;

The lightning should have warned you.

Believe what you must.

2. You step on damp grass,

Walking away forever.

I watch you leave me.

3. Breath of your release,

The night wind blows you away.

I have words unsaid.

4. Another you next time.

He will listen; he will stay:

Then I must be there.