Remembering I used
to eat rice every single
morning, as bright tropical
sun start to peek at the
horizon, as there is NO excuse
whatsoever .. as rice equates to
strength and vigor
to carry me through that particular
day as in rice and dried fish, or
rice and egg, or rice and slippery
vegetables termed as "laswa" or
even rice with shrimp
anything as there MUST
be rice at the dining table
before I explode and run
to catch the jeepney to
school in the middle of the city ...
I feel sleepy in the subway train
this morning as the steel hollow vessels
lumber through he cavernous tracks
I actually caught a few minute catwinks!
I wonder if the bread got something to
do with it .... or my body craving for rice ...
January 14, 2010
(NYPH-Cornell Library before going to F10 to work)
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Sticky sugar violently stirred round and round the couldron ... flames gnashing at the pit cooking the dark brown concoction into perfection. A definite Filipino dessert. Kalamay-hati ... like my words, my offering of odes and prose to the world ... my eclat, my voice of triumph and desolation ...
LUNANGON
There's a lot of things to know .. as there's a lot of things to be changed. A passive mind needs to be de-constructed. Apathy needs to be torched. To know is to transform. And to write is already to choose which side you want to be on.
