KULTO MULTO

kitchen conversation:

Sun, 27 Dec 2009 07:59:32 GMT

Love: Beginnings
CK Williams

They're at that stage where so much desire streams between them, so much
frank need and want,
so much absorption in the other and the self and the self-admiring entity
and unity they make--
her mouth so full, breast so lifted, head thrown back so far in her laughter
at his laughter,
he so solid, planted, oaky, firm, so resonantly factual in the headiness of
being craved so,
she almost wreathed upon him as they intertwine again, touch again,
cheek, lip, shoulder, brow,
every glance moving toward the sexual, every glance away soaring back in
flame into the sexual--
that just to watch them is to feel again that hitching in the groin, that filling
of the heart,
the old, sore heart, the battered, foundered, faithful heart, snorting again,
stamping in its stall.

this has been the best worst year ever.

sobering thoughts:

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 15:07:56 GMT

heavy hands, heavy heart -- so many hollows on this body means so many places in which to collect pain

updating from the cellphone:

Mon, 14 Dec 2009 10:13:22 GMT

thesis resumes its stranglehold on me; will work from 7pm until the geminids meteor shower at 2am and then read st augustine for medieval philosophy at 7am. then class until 10:30am, thesis in the library until another philosophy class at 3, home by 5 to pass out until 7am. 8am wednesday resume thesis until class at noon, attempt consultation afterward, theology class at 3:30, home by 6pm. rinse, repeat, for the rest of the week.

christmas break will be exactly the same minus all useless parts like attending class and regular sleeping habits.

p.s. http://softfloors.wordpress.com will still be updated. if not regularly, at least at all.

updating from the cellphone:

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 15:12:26 GMT

stop it, i love you and i am sad

the usual:

Sun, 13 Dec 2009 05:40:49 GMT

christmas vacation's from dec 19 to jan 3.

the extended family wants to send all us third-generationers up to bagiuo without parents or chaperones, which would make the oldest person in the group my 25-yr old dude cousin and the youngest my 7-yr old girl cousin and in between there will be at least seven more kids including my 16-yr old sister and 13-yr old brother

but i am hoping this ragtag assortment of mischief will not include me the 20-yr old bumslut who likes chainsmoke while barefoot and peeved

from the 26th to the 29th; and my siblings went on this trip last year (i cannot remember why i didn't) and are pretty psyched to be going on it again. i don't want to go. it's got nothing to do with the city, though. i'd go alone if i could.

my mother's flying in on the 22nd and she and my dad will fly to antique 28th to 29th and i would rather go on that but my dad seems offended that i don't want to go on this free trip to baguio etc etc

ehh basta tangina matigas ulo ko / kung ayoko, ayoko talaga

updating from the cellphone:

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 10:31:08 GMT

http://softfloors.wordpress.com revived yesterday with a resurrection poem! i hope you like it, i hope this project just goes and goes.

tale of two monsters:

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 13:41:07 GMT

we lovingly wrestled each other out of what would have been separate { and therefore mediocre } lives

sadshit monster:

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 12:42:33 GMT

it's my fault i am left out but it's not my fault i feel left out
when i say whatever it means everything

the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness
the price of being a wolf is loneliness

friday the thirteenth:

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 06:57:46 GMT

contemplating rooftops:

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 15:42:47 GMT

before the semestral break began, i had about five hundred pages from four different library books photocopied so i could read them for my thesis. i returned the books to the library and zoomed right through sem break, reading about three or so essays amongst those pages.

fast forward to today: the library's being renovated in order to celebrate the university's 150th year upon this earth, and is therefore incapable of lending out books for the next two weeks. the first draft of my thesis is due in four weeks. my readings are missing. so is my cellphone, for that matter, but at this point i don't exactly know how it's supposed to help me

and you all wonder why i'm incommunicado?

goddamn

p.s. fuck you new library; even if you were furnished in platinum and velvet you wouldn't be worth all the shit you're putting me through

pain management:

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 02:34:55 GMT

"litshit na naman 'to e!"

back to school thesis-terrified

four hour drive:

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 15:56:03 GMT

The Love Cook
Ron Padgett

Let me cook you some dinner.
Sit down and take off your shoes
and socks and in fact the rest
of your clothes, have a daiquiri,
turn on some music and dance
around the house, inside and out,
it’s night and the neighbors
are sleeping, those dolts, and
the stars are shining bright,
and I’ve got the burners lit
for you, you hungry thing.

that being weakly said: i wish i filled you enough
so you don't have to go looking for more.

Writer's Block: Instant attraction

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 14:20:30 GMT

Do you think romantic chemistry is instant or evolving? Have you ever given someone a second (or third) chance and lived to regret it? Have you ever fallen in love with someone you didn't particularly like or desire at first?

View 1139 Answers

one night stands become lifetime plans / boy we were so brown

Writer's Block: Opposites attract (sometimes)

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 09:33:57 GMT

In general, do you find yourself more attracted to people with similar or different interests, life experiences, political beliefs, and religious backgrounds? Do you think having some common interests/goals is essential for a successful relationship?

View 564 Answers

no idea.

sunlit for the first time in months:

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 02:15:04 GMT

lost my phone again last night. pretty pissed about that.

--

so i went out and biked this morning for the first time since the Week of the Great Water & found myself coasting wildly down a golden hill, two dogs & a garbage truck giving merry chase, while cat stevens crooned in my ears that morning has broken, praise with elation, praise every morning

yes, mine was the sunlight, mine the morning, mine the mangy dogs lolling tongues & all; mine the furious pedaling toward exhaustion's joy. mine all men's losses & all men's gains, the empty pockets, the full & heavy heart pushing me on & on down the hill --

sadstuff:

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 09:20:05 GMT

the lovely aussy of mary moon productions asked me to contribute to this month's round of playlist hour at magnet katipunan & without further ado¹ -- here is an hour & a half of

I Wake Up Sad at 2am
& iTunes is On, Playing This Song

1 temper trap - sweet disposition
2 the acorn - do you not yearn, at all?
3 sonic youth - unwind
4 yoav - where is my mind? [pixies]
5 the microphones - i felt your shape
6 someone still loves you boris yeltsin - house fire
7 alias + tarsier - dr. c
8 beirut - my night with the prostitute from marseille
9 her space holiday - japanese gum
10 el perro del mar - change of heart
11 jeff buckley - opened once
12 kevin shields - are you awake?
13 ang bandang shirley - bahay kubo
14 cody chestnutt - 5 on a joyride
15 smashing pumpkins - try try try
16 brainsalad - mula sa langit
17 gotye - night drive
18 sufjan stevens - predatory wasp of the palisades
19 little dragon - no love
20 the radio dept - your father
21 ohbijou - st francis
22 memphis - in the cinema alone

up for download at warmest_corner; members-only

BUT WAIT: in danger of cockblocking my own playlist hour; this is happening tonight (!) november 4, 7 - 9:30pm so if any of you are in the area, do drop by, say hi. have also prepared 40min and 50min versions in case i bore anyone to tears. this post will go public post-playlist hour. ☮

i'm not one for reblogging but:

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 06:13:40 GMT

Kuroshio Sea - 2nd largest aquarium tank in the world - (song is Please don't go by Barcelona) from Jon Rawlinson on Vimeo.

barcelona - please don't go
3:10 onward

from macky; i miss you like i miss the sea

all-out dance sequences in public places:

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 08:47:14 GMT

howyoumakemefeel.com/manster

celine dion gets the same question:

Thu, 29 Oct 2009 19:36:08 GMT

A horse walks into a bar where Walt Whitman and Ezra Pound are drinking.

BARTENDER (to horse): Why the long face?

WHITMAN (to everyone): I, too, am a horse.

POUND (to Whitman): Shut the fuck up.

terrible poetry jokes
(i dig mcsweeney's)

omg hala lagot ka:

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 14:58:22 GMT

Scylla |ˈsilə| Greek Mythology
a female sea monster who devoured sailors
when they tried to navigate the narrow channel
between her cave and the whirlpool Charybdis.
In later legend Scylla was a dangerous rock,
located on the Italian side of the Strait of Messina.

boy i knew i was going to be demonized but
ffffuck you.

change of heart:

Sun, 25 Oct 2009 06:23:06 GMT

my ex girlfriend

--

http://softfloors.wordpress.com

my poems

--

p.s. i caught up with one and not the other.

early-morning hate:

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 00:59:05 GMT

little sister throwing a fit because the woman who comes around to do our laundry thrice a week has yet to get to the batch that contains little sister's new super-skinny tailored jeans. fails to remember woman-who-does-our-laundry has been doing our laundry day after day post-flood in an effort to salvage said clothing. fails to remember her own skinny jeans are safe in her closet, and not soaked in mud or lost forever. i tell her to shut up and if she wants something done she should do it herself goddamnit. i fail to remember our laundrywoman's name.

opened once:

Sun, 11 Oct 2009 13:36:16 GMT

in the half-light where we both stand,
in the half-light you saw me as I am.

i am a railroad track abandoned with the sunset
forgetting i ever happened, that i ever happened.

--

x&x

nobody asks about the acronyms:

Sun, 04 Oct 2009 15:55:34 GMT

Swing

All poems to ex-lovers begin, one way or another, with
I should not be thinking of you. Or, if you’re lucky,
I am glad you are dead. This one begins by pointing
that out. Now that the unpleasant is out of the way,
set in front of you and as quickly whisked away, see
how you are already beginning to forget — I must say
I walked twenty aisles in the world’s largest department
store looking for the soap you use, I must say nobody
dances like you do, and when you cut your hair short
I felt like crying. You remind me of the grade school
playground swing, not because you’re any fun or
particularly bright, but I would like to dangle my legs
from you and keep pushing toward the sky. Once
you offered me a blade of grass, when we were lying
down in a field full of blades of grass, and I took it,
that particular blade of grass, and made it whistle.
To repeat that look of pleasure on your face, to find
and hold in my hands the smell of you on a cold day,
I am not one for forgetting, as you swing lazily between
anger and erotica in my mind, toes brushing the garden,
face pointed toward the light. I am glad you are dead,
you told me. And I said, I should not be thinking of you.

- today on soft floors

what i like about wordpress is that i can see just how much traffic my project gets, i.e. who's actually game to read a poem a day whether it's crappy or only semi-crappy, & it's nice to know that on average, the project will be loaded forty times in forty separate browsers, roughly the equivalent of a freshman english class in ateneo. How Not to Write a Poem 101. How to Procrastinate Daily 131.1.

also interesting is the list of terms people have typed into google -- i assume -- to find the blog, & "ondoy" was there, along with the more unsettling phrase: "[my whole name or at least how it appears on facebook] + poem a day"

the best part is -- & this piece of information i fold up & tuck into my pocket, & when i am alone in empty hallways or at night before i sleep or when i panic about dying alone & unloved i take out the much-creased data & hold it with my mind's gaze -- one of my referrers (a link someone clicks to get to the blog) is Google Reader. someone's subscribed to my project via google reader & tonight while i wrestle with the drudgery of a six-page history paper on the state of education & colonial cultural production during spanish occupation -- that thought will keep me going.

because some days the last thing you want to do is write a poem, some days it's hella obvious & hella easy to spit out some breezy two-liner wisecrack & call it a poem, but some days, it's better, so --

thanks, guys. knowing that people are keeping up with the project is enough reason for me to keep going. i do so want to write three hundred sixty five poems. i mean, it is entirely possible to write a year's worth of shit poetry, but there's always next year. & the one after that. & the one after that.

p.s. forgive the masturbatory post & all-around back-pattage; still procrastinating.

being terse:

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 14:44:31 GMT

* Were you affected by the floods?
Yep.

* If yes, what was affected and to what extent?
Chest-deep water the color of death filled our first floor. I live along Katipunan -- in a house with my family, not in a dorm -- and it was a good five hours before the water went down, leaving behind fistfuls of cockroaches and a hella lot of mud. Most of our furniture got waterlogged, so we've got stanky couches and warped wood. We were also fridge-less for a good two days.

* Do you need any assistance?
We sure did, but no one was replying to my text messages so we managed to clean out the house on our own.

* If yes, what kind of assistance?
My family would've appreciated a volunteer cleaning group, as suggested by plenty of my friends over Facebook & Twitter: a bunch of helpful eager kids with a box of cleaning supplies like Lysol, Clorox, sponges, and mops -- who go around looking for houses with their furniture on the sidewalk and offer to help scrub out. Too bad that was just a suggestion. Next up is heavy lifting, and furniture rearranging.

* Can you give assistance to those affected?
I think so, and I'd like to, but I'm halfway between volunteer and refugee right now.

* If yes, what kind of assistance?
I don't have anything to donate, but I've hauled goods for Ateneo. If someone arranges a mobile cleaning group, I'm game for that as well. This particular aspect of flood damage is often overlooked; houses are left to molder and families with weak manpower (i.e. the elderly, or have too many kids) have to put up with terrible living conditions for a long time, which could lead to diseases and all-around misery.