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BY PETER SOLIS NERY
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Thursday, January 26, 2017
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THIS IS my 52nd article for this column; and although I am generally satisfied with what I am doing, I feel that I am also called to do something more.
I’m getting tired of filling up a space with prose of at least 1,000 words every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I am also afraid of repeating myself.
My mind may change again later; but as this is the end of January, and I usually mark events of my life with auspicious dates (like starting this particular column right at the beginning of September), I feel that I should give you a heads up just in case I decide to change gear in the beginning of February.
Change gear to what? Well, in mid-December, I’ve changed format in my “Campeon sang Hiligaynon” column over at Panay Balita. (I also write thrice weekly for Panay News’ Hiligaynon sister publication on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and the weekend, if you haven’t noticed.)
In the new format, if you haven’t been following me in Panay Balita, I’ve been writing bits and pieces of “poetry.” Poetry in quotation marks because, well, they are kind of flash poetry; and my main objective is just to write in hits and misses.
So far, I am most happy with what I’ve been doing. Since Dec. 15 I have already published 354 of these short poems. And while each poem may not be truly outstanding; taken together as a whole, they are, at the very least, some kind of satisfying. And I am cool with that.
Readers of Panay Balita are not as verbal as those of Panay News. While writing in English for Panay News, I always get some kind of a response. Things like, “Your writing is entertaining,” or “Do you really have to be bitchy in your column? You are so much nicer in person,” or “We follow your column!” And, of course, there are reactions from the occasional nincompoops that I crucify on the page because of their ignorance and holier-than-thou attitudes.
But, but, but, after my poetry started appearing on the pages of Panay Balita, I’ve started to hear from readers; things like, “Are these autobiographical?” or “What makes a poem a poem?” I kinda like the discussion that my poem sequences (17 to 22 poems per column) has generated.
I am also generally pleased with my poems before I send them off. Reading them again at another time may generate a different reaction, but what is important for me now is being happy at the time of writing them. Or else, why continue to write?
I perfectly understand that these are hit-or-miss poems. And since I am writing these with newspaper deadlines, that’s the plan. Write 17 to 22 poems every other day, and six months or nine months later, choose the best ones for a definitive collection. I really like the idea.
In fact, I like the idea so much that I want to replicate in Panay News the good thing I’m doing in Panay Balita, albeit in English. And I promise, I will not duplicate myself with translations because that would be cheating, or making my life so easy. Bottomline, I want to be writing 17 to 22 hit-or-miss poems every freaking day. I really think that would be exciting.
So maybe let’s try that starting Feb. 1. And if there are violent reactions, or reasonable requests, we can always change format again after Valentine’s Day. The thing is, while I want to entertain my readers on the page, I also want to be very, very happy with what I am doing. I’m not 16 years old anymore.
Confession: I am not ecstatic being a bitch on the page, but I also understand the bitch’s power to entertain, not all, but most of, my readers. After all, being the original Vicious and Noxious columnist in the early years of the new millennium sealed my reputation as the premier agent provocateur of Western Visayas, the certified l’ enfant terrible of Ilonggo newspapers.
And psychologically, I am such a good bitch because I settle for others the things they want to say but cannot express. And by being wicked, and a little scandalous maybe, I also make others feel better about their miserable selves. So there!
But, but, but, it is as I said. This is getting tiresome. And unless my position is threatened once again, I would rather keep my claws at bay. I’m not getting any younger; but neither are you!
Sure, sure, exposing my heart and vulnerability is a little more difficult and challenging; but I really want to do this. So let’s give it a try, shall we?
And trying it out for size, literally, here’s a sampler from my earlier poetry collections. I just want to see how they look on the page. Haha!
*
Some nights, I wait
For a stranger’s touch —
That dangerous, lustful,
Greedy, impatient sensation.
Some nights, I become the stranger.
*
Just words —
And yet, you become
Less ghost, less stranger,
More handsome every time
You open your mouth.
*
You had fun, I had mine
Faked; you asked for my number,
I got yours — basic
Courtesy. Whether I’ll call
Is another matter.
*
You said you like me.
I know I like you.
You said you like me more, still.
And still, no one moves.
I am shy, you are proud.
*
I sleep with dreams of you.
But you always go.
You always have to go.
And you leave behind
A dying fish
Under my pillow./PN
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