Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘culture’

Piso pa rin ba?
O mas malamig pa sa piseta?
Ang agahan, pananghalian
at hapunan na pinagkasya
sa isang maliit kakarampot na supot
para ipagpalit sa pangarap
na papsikel, tutunawin lang
nang panandalian, isisikmurang
sa paparating na pantawid sa tag-init.

Pabili po ng ice candy…
Piso pa rin ba?

-Armineonila M., 2017

 

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Kubo and the Two Strings. I have a few words. It is a story that makes you cry from the inside. What it never tells is what moves you. I didn’t watch it in 3D or 2D or IMAX or with any cinematic paraphernalia. The experience was raw, down-to-earth, as the film itself manifests, it brought me closer to home.

But beyond the symbolism, the mythology, the haiku, the origami, the shamisen, the kabuki, the Edo period, cultural sensibilities, and all, Kubo and the Two Strings spins strings of flashbacks that may bind us to long forgotten roots. As the shamisen pulls on the heartstrings, embedding a kind of unspeakable yearning for the departed, the plot went on reeling the thread of immortality as it did the mundane. Indeed, death benumbs itself.

I’ll leave this piece with my hat off to Laika because, since Coraline, it’s guaranteed that stop motion animation will never again lose its way inside our memories. So before you head to the theater, here’s a beautiful cover of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” for your listening pleasure.

 

Mini musing:  Life is a matchstick. The end.

Read Full Post »

It’s been a while. But I’d like to share this piece I especially wrote for Pluma’s third year anniversary (September 14). Visit Pluma’s official website and blog for more features.

If only the burning of bridges
remains an idiot’s idiom
and we could still dream of flowerbeds

and never hear gunshots
of freedom from a remote uproar

lay the sword to rest –
what powers does it hold under a child’s gaze?
even time halts for mourning
when the sharp edges of tyranny
dug deep down their tiny bellies

Telling them
Told me

why must we smell the flowers?
read people with dead shot eyes

after a while

the trees shall whisper
some so-called heroes’ anthem
who spoiled the soil that fed them

while our ruins
are traded for inorganic memories

or so history went
and thought free verse rhymes
or weaves a synopsis of the future

but we refuse to breathe
the putrid lies
our masked men feed
a gold miner’s poverty

we tread
alongside fragile footsteps.

-Armineonila M., 2016

Mini musing: The pen is mighty until its ink had dried out.

Read Full Post »

I’m sharing here my recent blog entry at Lines of Lila. Nothing much, just something I thought I’d write to critic and contradict myself. And yes, it’s about the self, hence, the title “selfie”. I hope you enjoy reading it.

(An excerpt from A selfie of an artist amid a day job, an e-store, bots, and trolls)

And a blog, too! I cringe at the thought of having to balance between life as I know it and life as I imagined it to be. But there’s barely a thin line between imagination and reality. Oftentimes, you jolt out of your reveries from a dog’s bark to find your actual place in this world. Well, frequently at this time and age, you locate yourself with a little help from Google map.

Selfie with a day job

I am aware that there are artists who keep their “day jobs” as visual artists, which is admirable, hence, as some would say, I’d fall under the category of a Sunday artist. Only problem is, I barely have a concept of days. My week comprised of a Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Yesterday, and Today. While on my “day job”, I’d daydream my way into believing that all the task I do is for the betterhood of art. Henceforth, the betterhood of the whole wide world. I’d weave around this mental cult without disbelief. I’d strive to reach the pinnacle of creativity, as a copywriter a la social media trumpet and a lot more. I’d suck art’s soul to its last breath. But a little empathy would grab me from the neck with a reprimand: “Leave the last breath for tomorrow. The rice is now boiling”.

Balancing the life of an artist and an employee, I’d realize at first that in my case, there’s really not much of a borderline…continue reading.

Read Full Post »

Watch Rage Against the Machine guitarist, Tom Morello, machine-slap Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez at 100% full political rage.

Read the story at Rolling Stone.

Read Full Post »

The distance between their sanity

and winter, is their ears pinned

to cackling bogeymen on podiums,

spewing rabies on the microphone.

Fools buy the viral lie.

They, too, thought friendship is a list

and wear a new language, probably a second,

third, learnt from ranking tongues, boxing races,

licking white ice cream, factory flavoured.

Pleas lean on cold shoulders.

They’re neither Barney nor Elmo,

but got time for niceties, in random verse,

begging for likes or celebrity comments,

tagging first worlds, galaxies away.

Thoughts perched on fences.

~0~

Armineonila M.

July 2015

Read Full Post »

The Vegan Way in Kuwait by Armineonila M. (Kuwait Times)

The Vegan Way in Kuwait by Armineonila M. (Kuwait Times)

The Vegan Way in Kuwait by Armineonila M.  Friday Times (Kuwait Times),

Dec. 26, 2014, pp. 6-7. http://news.kuwaittimes.net/26th-dec/

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: