Monday, November 29, 2021

The Mystery of Moths

 

The Mystery of Moths

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Expert Author Rosalinda Flores-Martinez

What is it with moths, insects and flies?

Why in their minute bodies or heads, they threaten humans?

Why in their strangeness, they symbolize wrath, fun, seasons, danger or calm?

I'm fond of fireflies. When I was younger I thought they were sent by fairies from deep dark forests. I asked my grandfather (father of my Dad) when we crossed thick forests in the night, "Are there really fairies in the forest?"

And he answered, "Yes."

I was into it. I adored his stories, even those horses with human heads. Up the sky, we looked, and it was so beautiful! Truly, the sky in blue was vast, the stars brightly smiled to us, and to all those who looked above.

I was not afraid of the forest then. I was thinking, if we didn't find the way out, we would reverse our shirts to find the way out. My grandfather laughed. He was so brave, a real man! Like an Indian chief he can roar with command, and those who would see him would bow with respect.

There were clusters of fireflies in the forest. Their lights blinked like party lights, but they were brighter, yellow and happy. They were more than fireworks dancing. Their lights never faded and never ended in the dark. When I tried to get one firefly, my grandfather told me "You shouldn't do that because the fairies might punish us." So I didn't catch them. When I came in the house and there were still some fireflies, I got one and put it in a bottle. But soon, the firefly died.

As I traced back, the issue was not the punishment from the fairies, but the right thing to do.

I can also remember another famous story on the moths. It was told by (mother of Filipino national hero Dr. Jose Rizal)) Teodora Alonso. The story shares the idea that when the moths come near the flame they will burn. So stay away from the flame.

Another story is William Golding's (awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature) Lord of the Flies. See what boys are like in the challenge of various situations. The title shows a terrifying boar's (beast) head with flies buzzing around. What are the effects of environment to the children?

How about Franz Kafka's Metamorphosis? In the story, the insect cannot be depicted clearly because the door is always locked. When the door opens, there is darkness. What can you say about the cinema of the blind?

The Moths by Helena Maria Viramontes comes stark with a woman's anguish. The story gives emphasis when Abuelita (grandmother) died. It says, "Then the moths came. Small and gray ones that came from her soul and out through her mouth fluttering to light..."

Article Source: https://EzineArticles.com/expert/Rosalinda_Flores-Martinez/307769

How I Write Poems

 There are many books and essays on how poems are made, Rilke's How Poems Happen, How I Write, or like George Orwell's Why I Write...


In as much as, I want to gather all the fibers that have been woven and thread them together at this time, I will share how I weave my own, as taught, as read, as practiced, and with all due respect to my professors and other writers and poets.

When I was an MFA student, I was a mother who wanted more than 24 hours of a day to get closest to the life I lived. That ranges from the 20th century (December 1, 1901 - December 31, 2000) and the 21th century (January 1, 2001 - December 31, 2100) now, where I will end. 


I must admit, I was chipped before the boom of technology. From the magnetic tapes on checks and tickets, I evolved with internet cards and got promoted with servers today. That was how I lived. 


Everyday, I was a witness as to how technology evolved from big mobile phones, car phones, antique phonograph and stereos, boom box, first cars with automatic windows, karaoke, microwave, remote controls, laser discs, Altec Lansing speakers, automatic cars, control switches, bio prints, digital cameras, the lap top, notebooks, PC tablets, the complication and elegance of Apple, fame of Blackberries, my tape recorders for work, my Neo laptop damaged by lightning, and my Nokia phone (which I call user friendly) that can only use the text mode due to a writers budget, in some point of my life. Don't forget the Sega games; and now everything online, Twitter and Facebook as with dictionaries and translations, ezines and ebooks. Hence, a blast of high technology and our global community!


Back then, poems were made years, months, or some of them from spark of muses. Poems were crafted, revised many times, simmered, and some just still on stones, mossed. I recommend for reading, "A Passionate Patience," by R.M. de Ungria and "Twentieth Century Pleasures" by Robert Hass, among others. Also, read poems of contemporary poets and teachers like Eric Gamalinda, Cirilo Bautista, Marjorie Evasco, Tony Perez, Luisa Igloria, Zeus Salazar and Albert Casuga.


As for me,  I sing on pages online. I go naked. Maybe. it is that POM in fiction of Isagani Cruz. I send and submit as fast as technology can communicate first drafts, after fire from prayers, other texts, and reading materials. Take for example, the prose prayer poems I had written and attempted based on the Psalms, where I read and wrote only because of God's grace and maybe from God's mercy, too. It is because I lived with the Psalms all throughout my happiest and saddest times. Moreover, I set myself, a deadline, an output for a month that I must produce. Revisions will be later.


My work is to think. Now I am an android built with a heart. That is how fast I can write a poem; press me, press my heart and I will zoom and burst in you words. I deal with symbolisms and images, as well. I experiment because I didn't have enough chances to go out, when I was still younger. So now, while there's still fire in me, I am living in fiction and my poems to pull back the years I have missed.  In the future, perhaps, revisions would be easier because the poems online, are archived and could be published until then, whether paid or free for all. By that time, I will be very old or dead. Thank you for reading my poems.



Article Source: https://EzineArticles.com/expert/Rosalinda_Flores-Martinez/307769

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Tuesday, November 2, 2021

Two Poems from the Philippines, by Marjorie Evasco

Two Poems from the Philippines, by Marjorie Evasco: “I curled fern- / like in bed, not to sleep, but to keep awake / to the motions of poetry throwing filaments / of light, the way a resident spider brings / bright symmetries to being from its almost- / invisible body.” from “Pollen,” by Marjorie Evasco