a tough act to follow
Every morning
I flush my bowl
I wash my face
And look at the eyes of a happy man.
Every evening
I clean myself
And brush my teeth
And look at the face of content.
Every morning
I flush my bowl
I wash my face
And look at the eyes of a happy man.
Every evening
I clean myself
And brush my teeth
And look at the face of content.
I think poetry has lost an awful lot of its muscle because nobody knows any. Nobody has to memorize poetry. – Peter Davison
I read somewhere that poetry is designed to be read aloud. It’s meant to be given voice and maintains a close relationship with speaking and singing, not just for the eye and the mind. The sound and rhythm are important elements of the music of poetry. True enough, when I try silent reading versus reading aloud, the latter produces more impact, oftentimes pleasurable. The hints of emotions become vivid. Most importantly, it helps to understand and eventually memorize the words.
Measure my love in perspective
And perhaps you’ll find
The trifling effects of distance
Your structure evokes
Sa aking paglipad, dala ko ang iyong alaala
Aking iuukit sa matatayog na ulap
Ang nangungusap mong mga mata
At labing puno ng tamis at ligaw na salitang
tumatakas sa iyong puso at diwa.
Madness and fervency
Whipped into a tasty meringue
A single bite intended for the innocent and beautiful
A once transient thought
Now cemented in mind
A haunting visage
That serves as a lullaby