There are many books and essays on how poems are made, Rilke’s How Poems Happen, How I Write, or like George Orwell’s Why I Write…
In as much as, I want to gather all the fibers that have been woven and thread them together at this time, I will share how I weave my own, as taught, as read, as practiced, and with all due respect to my professors and other writers and poets.
When I was an MFA student, I was a mother who wanted more than 24 hours of a day to get closest to the life I lived. That ranges from the 20th century (December 1, 1901 – December 31, 2000) and the 21th century (January 1, 2001 – December 31, 2100) now, where I will end.
I must admit, I was chipped before the boom of technology. From the magnetic tapes on checks and tickets, I evolved with internet cards and got promoted with servers today. That was how I lived.
Everyday, I was a witness as to how technology evolved from big mobile phones, car phones, antique phonograph and stereos, boom box, first cars with automatic windows, karaoke, microwave, remote controls, laser discs, Altec Lansing speakers, automatic cars, control switches, bio prints, digital cameras, the lap top, notebooks, PC tablets, the complication and elegance of Apple, fame of Blackberries, my tape recorders for work, my Neo laptop damaged by lightning, and my Nokia phone (which I call user friendly) that can only use the text mode due to a writers budget, in some point of my life. Don’t forget the Sega games; and now everything online, Twitter and Facebook as with dictionaries and translations, ezines and ebooks. Hence, a blast of high technology and our global community!
Back then, poems were made years, months, or some of them from spark of muses. Poems were crafted, revised many times, simmered, and some just still on stones, mossed. I recommend for reading, “A Passionate Patience,” by R.M. de Ungria and “Twentieth Century Pleasures” by Robert Hass, among others. Also, read poems of contemporary poets and teachers like Eric Gamalinda, Cirilo Bautista, Marjorie Evasco, Tony Perez, Luisa Igloria, Zeus Salazar and Albert Casuga.
As for me, I sing on pages online. I go naked. Maybe. it is that POM in fiction of Isagani Cruz. I send and submit as fast as technology can communicate first drafts, after fire from prayers, other texts, and reading materials. Take for example, the prose prayer poems I had written and attempted based on the Psalms, where I read and wrote only because of God’s grace and maybe from God’s mercy, too. It is because I lived with the Psalms all throughout my happiest and saddest times. Moreover, I set myself, a deadline, an output for a month that I must produce. Revisions will be later.
My work is to think. Now I am an android built with a heart. That is how fast I can write a poem; press me, press my heart and I will zoom and burst in you words. I deal with symbolisms and images, as well. I experiment because I didn’t have enough chances to go out, when I was still younger. So now, while there’s still fire in me, I am living in fiction and my poems to pull back the years I have missed. In the future, perhaps, revisions would be easier because the poems online, are archived and could be published until then, whether paid or free for all. By that time, I will be very old or dead. Thank you for reading my poems.
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