Poesias,

[smb]

Great stuff! Keep 'em coming!

Hey, Eduardo! You must know some other poets or literary gurus??

Try to get them to post something here... even as a guest.

At the moment, the only people posting anything much here are you and Lonvig. Chai and myself also chip-in the odd contribution but it will take more than 4 contributors to keep these forums alive. I am patient but not infinitely so... If we don't start to see some action on these damn forums before too many more years go by, I might just press the delete button on my web hosting control panel.

By the way, my next literary contribution will be a small missive on my recent, short but very enjoyable, trip to Mindanao. This will appear on my Blog. I'm still working on the descriptions to the accompanying photos, which have already been posted at:

Home > User galleries > smb > Bicol, the Visayas and Mindanao

Chiao!!

[Eduardo]

Hey Kaibigan,

This website is in the Philippines and quite frankly, I would love to have some Pinoys and Pinays poets do their thing herein. They are so talented you will not believe, my writings pales besides theirs.

However, very recently the Tagaytay 5, a group of poets have been arrested and charged on rebellion for writing and publishing their poetry on behalf of the TRUTH.

Much of what I have atempted to do is to encourage those to write, by writing, yet THEIR SILENCE SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS. . .

We may have the protection of the United Kingdom and United States of America, but these poets must live and survive herein their system. Reading in between these lines, and you will know why, there is that reluctance, to share. This is just one dimension.

The other level is, some people are caught up in the social stratification arena.

Example, if you graduate from an elite university, you can only associate with an elitist group. Though this may have nothing to do with poetry; it is more in the idea that, "culture is the blueprint for behavior." They may share with what they consider a serious literary journal . . .

Will, however, extend that invitation to all, known poets, here in USA, and abroad . . .

Great pictures, Mindanao has that moslem mystique, that dates all the way back to Lapu Lapu!

Invincible Spirit!!!

Next year,

Europa,

conte partiro . . .

Thanks to you, Lonvig and Chai, it is still floating, am just an humble poet, literally pitching in, :-)

. . .

[Eduardo]

Have not being this busy in years!

However, let me quote from a ad, sent by the Leadership Institute, University of San Diego, CA. USA.

Similar to Ateneo, in a Jesuit persuasion, a universal observation:

"We are all meant to shine, as children do . . .

And as we let our own light shine,

we consciously give other people

permission to do the same thing . . ."

Marianne Williamson, in "A Journey of Love . . ."

Maraming Salamat kaibigan!

Sincerement, mon ami, edouard

Ps. Have some poems that are forthcoming, because, that is my journey too; please, patience . . . merci beaucoup!

Bientot! <<

[Eduardo]

Still

From above her smooth cinnamon skin, a streaming flow of moisture kept pouring, and the windows of the soul, from the stress, remained untouched by the pain.

Still, she did not know.

If her face had given the appearance of an elder, she did not know.

Were these symptomatic signs of pain too?

In her eyes, the constellation still shone and she did not know.

She just sat on painted red curb of the sidewalk, the read meaning "no parking," just to tear.

Obviously, pain was being forged, in the midst of a distressing dialogue.

In the furnace of lifes trials, character began to be revealed and shaped.

This fact she did not know.

Still,

this lyre remembered her full name

and acknowledging his Presence,

she smiled . . . .

From her soul, took the tears and drew a star filled celestial awning above her crown.

The lyre?s spirit stood invisibly beside her and in that sustaining moment,

filled the fountain of her tears to write this night.

Remembered her full name, even in distant places and time where the pen had traveled,

she was unable to erase it.

This recollection did not phase her and to her willingness to help, he remained silent.

He had to be sure, for she unwittingly unleashed a series of oversea journeys that were in the making.

Still, she did not know.

He was in her choreographic genius and she was never aware of his intensity . . . .

Eduardo A. Cong

Poet and playwright,

California, USA.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Sa Karamihan ng panahon, even in the absence of words, am as near to this text as your eyes, tunay kayumanging kaligatan. Merci mon amie.

[Eduardo]

Sobre

un mar inmenso bailaba los rayos del sol,

evaporando toda impureza se elevaba el alma

a regiones inimaginables,

como una fragrancia dulce,

pero extrajera.

La pluma,

delineando las fronteras de sus labios,

y deseando momentos imaginables m?s cercanas,

brotaba tinta pulsadas a latidos universales.

Un silencio,

que solamente su aliento pudo

llenar,

observ?o "hablame en espanol . . ."

Y la primavera

configurando la noche

la llenaba sutilmente

de estrellas

y ella,

sin saber . . .

Registrada, Enero 20, 2007.

Eduardo A. Cong

Poeta y dramaturgo,

Olas de un mar inmenso;

Vagues d'un mer de inmense

Mexico. D. F.

[Eduardo]

For a Tunay Kayumangging

The intellectual cistern was full,

and the pristine clear emerald ocean spoke in a language of its own.

Celestine light burst forth

upon ocean as well as the skies, while tranquil breeze swept through the night.

Silently eyes were speaking,

though amidst a circle of friends.

Words were futile that night.

Unconstrained was all life-giving force.

Science being her choice, an endless summer was to prescience that communion.

Pearls were in the making, while oceans and mountains yearned.

Copyright, May 28, 2007

Eduardo A. Cong

Poet and playwright,

National City, CA