Foot and Fire

Perfect TIme (Inspired by our 3 to 4 PM visit at Stone Peak, DSB, Negros Occidental) By Gerlie M. Uy 2.27.19 From here, you are all gorgeous: I can see the tip of your nose, And the fine line of your foot. In between, your body curves with vividness, your dotting greenish moles fading. I can't look at you with this clarity When I came to see you at first The sun could blind then and it did well. Then someone wanted me to like you By prettifying your face with terracotta hues but clearly it's not the essence of you, And I couldn't even get inside you. You were saying something to me Through the  hovering eagle or hawk or through the humming breeze but I miserably couldn't hear you; Our world was full of people then And I opted to run away fast to escape. It's not you, it's me. With that break-up line, we parted. I thought that explains how we ended, But I was all wrong. Now I am back to you when the sun is gently up And the dottin

My Guintubdan Spring By Gerlie Uy 2.22.19 How can I who love sunshine suddenly want to jump towards you, a you who is rocky and icy? I was hesitant to approach you at first: In my head, you are the coldest, and touching you like a curious child sent me screaming that you are as cold as ice. Shall I touch you more [will you allow me], or shall I leave at once? I know. I don't want your coldness. Yet before I appeared here in front of you, almost naked and ready to plunge, I already played out many ways to get into you. Somehow, I wanted you. And somewhat, I am ready to give you all of my warmth. And it came to pass that I decided: I wanted to really immerse in you, feel you more, dip myself deeper into you. We embraced like yin and yang, and as I emerged from your coldness, I smiled. Your cold kiss all over me blushes my whole body, opens me cleanses my soul, clarifies my senses arrests all of my defenses. No wonder why love, especially loving you, give

A young man cries for justice beyond his grave By Tony Perez "A young man cries for justice beyond his grave" document the spirit quests where Ensign Phillip Pestaño communicated his desire for justice through mediums as well include the transcripts of official and public hearings on his case.  23-year-old Naval Officer Pestaño was killed while on duty and it was initially declared as suicide but evidence suggests that he was murdered. Prior to his death, he was already suggesting to family about his difficulty at work and there was already warnings on the danger for his life. It was reported later that illegal drugs, illegal logs and firearms were ferried by the naval ship and the young officer did not want to "cooperate" by approving the cargo which is already approved by the higher officials... Literary wise, I admit that the writing of Tony Perez here is no value but it's a good peep on something beyond our human dimension. And a good jump off on t

  Gift from the sea  By Anne Morrow Lindbergh We are our Mother's Daughters By Cokie Roberts What I liked about the Gift From the Sea is that it is a personal conversation between Lindbergh and the women of her times but then all the women from her time up to now can truly relate to her words of wisdom. It is not instructive but it surely is reflective on many things a woman can and could face during her lifetime. It is an unassuming conversation yet it is powerful. It is indeed a gift, for women who wanted to be everything to everybody at a time but then integrally an artist by heart who celebrates solitude. This book is timeless, and has something to say to a woman in whatever stage she may be in her life. *** While reading this book, another favorite is summoned by my memory. I loved Cokie Roberts' We are our Mothers' Daughters because it is a modern run down of how women attained liberation. I can truly feel that the efforts of the women inclu

Burying the typewriter Childhood under the eye of the secret police By Carmen Bugan Picaodor, 2012, 235 pages with appendices I bought this book from Book Sale at a super steal price of ten pesos without any doubt that it would steal my heart. I am delighted that it did. Of course, the tag is secondary to why I picked this one up because the title lent mystery to it and so mainly, the title caught my attention. I love the visuals attachef to title which refers to a machine that is now buried dead by computers and cellphones as means of communication. And there is some kind of homage in the title to the freedom of expression. Of all defects of democracy I suffer because we are not human if our freedom is repressed. Then comes the secondary title which gives me a bird's eyevew that this book must be about childhood in times of repression of the freedom to express. It turns out, Carmen Bugan mainly transported me to her childhood in Romania which has beauty in its comm

Dream as you walk along the greeneries, dip and drink the cold sweet spring waters at So. Guintubdan, Brgy. Araal, La Carlota City or stroll down the steps from the La Carlota City Pavillon going to Dalupya Falls, or feel the cool breeze blowing as you ascend back while appreciating the garden or plunge in the chinese garden or the shower of Dalupya Falls.   Smell the coffee blooms, or stare at the magnificent Angel's trumpet blooms, taste mulberries and raspberries, bring home potted plants from those array of plants sold,   Or stop and see the sun set despite the fog and cold wind. These are what Guintubdan, La Carlota City can offer you. Nature.

Charmed by nature and lulled by the cool wind of Damires Hills Tierra Verde in Janiuay, Iloilo last December, I returned there to celebrate my mother bear's birthday. There, we had a family room perched on top of a hill and we enjoyed double beds for each one of four of us. The veranda has a duyan and the cool breeze invited us to enjoy it. The occupant in the next hut painted the villa and my nephew enjoyed watching him doing it when he caught him at sunset and then saw him again the next day in the morning on our way to the canopy walk. ***     We did the mini forest hike after passing by the kahon of ricefields and we paused for photos at the start of the hanging bridge. I was the last one as I intend to take many selfies and I don't want movements from the bridge made by my naughty nephew. *** Here is a photo of me at the start of the walk through the bridge. *** Of course, night swimming is a must. The picturesque restaurant and the well-lit pool are qu

Dear Friends of Specks Projects: Finally bought the laptop for the Panay Bukidnon of Calinog and handed it to Smile, a college student from the tribe and she will manage the same for the purpose of documenting their own cultural heritage from chanting, vocabulary, panubok, dances and many more. She and her other relatives from PB of Calinog will soon make a video for friends of Specks to enjoy and cherish. Thank you friends for making my birthday wish a reality through this birthday project made possible by your collective love and support for art.  Special shout of thanks to Ms. Cheryll S. who works hard in France and generously shared for this specific project. I am happy to be one of her chosen charity last year. Blessings may shower upon you in many folds in return! Kisses,  Gerlie P.S. First of Four wishes done!

  It was a great trip. After we did the official business and before heading to the recreational part, we picked up a Balikbayan Box of books in Leganes in Iloilo from a good friend. Upon my return home, I sorted the books already and I was very happy to accomplish the task in no time. I got a bunch for myself and they include Robert Fulghum and Leo Buscaglia. Searching for Mercy Street is a memoir of Poet Anne Sexton's daughter about her relationship with her mother.   My friend in Luzon saw my post and eyed the Fulghum so I sent it to her because I already read that and owned one, and I recommend it to her. She gifted me back the Frances Mayes book I was raring to have, A year in the world. And this is the only stray in this narrative! Promise.   *** Of course, mostly novels are reserved so I got stacks for the Honest-O-shelf. (In the meantime that the shelf is not yet ready, you may borrow books from me, just message me or find me at home.) Here they are fresh from

I thought I have eaten and seen everything in our backyards but I was wrong. It was the first time I tasted raspberry and I picked it fresh from the shrub growing at the La Carlota City Pavillon in Sitio Guintubdan, Brgy. Ara-al where the  cold spring and tall falls are located. Aside from the mulberries, I was lucky to have picked raspberries on the third week of January this year.