Rockstar dreams fulfilled...somewhat
So that's what it's like to be a rockstar
A couple of weeks ago found me up onstage with a microphone in front of me at Mag:Net Katipunan, one of the steady hangouts of budding artists and musicians. But, instead of bursting out into song, I had the pleasure of reading aloud a poem and an excerpt of a short story I wrote. Yeah yeah, not very rock star-ish, I know, but it was close enough. It was the culmination of the four-week "hanging out" writing class I attended facilitated by Sir Krip Yuson. Alongside the "hanging out" songwriting class under Cynthia Alexander, we were asked to read our works aloud in front of a good-size audience.
Rock star mode
With "classmates" Caroline Howard and Timi Nubla and "prof" Sir Krip Yuson after the reading
Mag:Net is offering the same hanging out classes next month, I think. I might sign-up again. I highly recommend others do so too. There are worse ways to spend Saturday afternoons than "hanging out" with writers, songwriters, musicans and other artists. I think they added a scriptwriting workshop conducted by Ricky Lee.
And in the interest of providing my readers (yes, all four of you) with a semblance of what I learned in class (and on the off chance the person I wrote it for will get to read it) here's the poem I read during our, er, "graduation." (Keep in mind that I consider myself more of a prose guy. I'm a bit uncomfortable writing poetry, and I'm the first to dismiss lovey-dovey poems on longing and heartbreak, but this one practically wrote itself. Plus if Sir Krip thought it was good enough to be heard by a roomful of complete strangers, then who am I to judge?)
Jill
The sheets are crumpled and restless
the pillows downcast and forlorn.
The journal I keep on the nightstand table
Is tear-smudged, exhausted and torn.
I wish I could turn you off
as easily as the lightswitch
near my bed
because then
I won't have to worry
about going to sleep
and seeing you in my head
almost in a hurry
without my consent
Throwing punches underwater
casting nets in a fishless sea
I dread the thought of sleep tonight
When I see only you, not me.
2 Comments:
Omigod, Krip Yuson... I'm jealous. Great poem, too.
And yes, I am out of hiding. For the meantime. Happy birthday, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year to you, PJ.
hey thanks hazel!good to see you back, at least in cyberspace hehe. talk about being jealous! you're seeing mayer next year! i'm positively green!!!
Post a Comment
<< Home