Skip to main content

Teacher's Month

         


RED PAINT


I scribble questions on the margins
drawn clean as with a ruler
unlike the words (and thoughts)
thrown as darts now here then there


Did you not hear me when I said?
one should think before you write
you should be careful with your words
they will be your life


They spoke of Plato and Aristotle
of Beauty, virtue, and the Good:
Where's the elegance or excellence?
Goodness requires respect from you


A perfect line, an insight in bud
I have to find them, there is no other way
to survive today. They are bread
for a life that feeds on a kind no other


Why do I teach? we sometimes ask
when that man's trade or that man's craft
looks easier, answering to no one
I am their dirty canvas, they my false art



       

Comments

  1. I don't know where this is coming from, but I hope you don't give up on teaching. I'm sure you give your students a lot of valuable insights. I know that for a fact because I was your student once, even though it was just for a few meetings.

    Happy teacher's month! And for being my teacher and a friend, thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  2. It was just one of those days everyone is entitled to.

    Of course, we never give up--especially on the things that matter most to us, the things we love.

    Thanks, but it's also the month for students because without them, like you, there would be no teachers, like me. Cheers. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Fields of Amorsolo

The first National Artist in Philippine history, referred to warmly as the “Grand Old Man of Philippine Art,” Fernando Amorsolo (1892–1972) still stands today as a looming figure in Philippine art responsible for being one of the artists who helped define what we up to now visually imagine as essentially Filipino. The images of rural life, of golden fields below clear blue, blue skies; the smiles of farmers which diminish their weariness as they plant, harvest, and winnow rice;most especially the iconic figure of the Filipina maiden working in the fields—the beloved dalagang bukid--; these, I believe, even after generations of Filipino painters since Amorsolo, have remained in our hearts and memory. Amorsolo did what great masters do for their country: bestow upon it its own icons, represent its native beauty, that is, to give its people and lands an identity and a face. There are, however, as many intentions for art as there are works of art. And these intentions will always remain in…

[Payapang Daigdig]

Written by Pat Nogoy, S.J.

Payapang Daigdig Felipe de Leon, Sr. 
Ang gabi'y payapa Lahat ay tahimik  Pati mga tala      Sa bughaw na langit 

Kay hinhin ng hangin Waring umiibig          Sa kapayapaan          Ng buong daigdig     
Payapang panahon    Ay diwa ng buhay Biyaya ng Diyos       Sa sangkatauhan
Ang gabi'y payapa Lahat ay tahimik Pati mga tala Sa bughaw na langit  
Pati mga tala           Sa bughaw na langit


The gift delivers Being/being Jean Luc Marion

There is something about the night.
The blanket of darkness hovering the other half of the day sparks ambivalence. Everything is the same in darkness—fear, joy, pain, triumph, doubt, glory, sorrow. Identities recede unto the vast anonymity. There is a pervading anxiety where existence slips into nothingness. One is never certain what to make out of darkness; maybe that is why the night shakes us because we never know. One cannot avoid imagining a something that is greater, higher, mightier, (even sinister) that lurks (hence the power of ghos…

A Love Sooner than Later

BROWN PENNY William Butler YeatsI whispered, 'I am too young,' And then, 'I am old enough'; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. 'Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair.' Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair. O love is the crooked thing, There is nobody wise enough To find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon. Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon.

*
One cannot begin to love too soon--conversely, one should not love too late or in life's demise. That waiting for the "right time," or the "right person" to love, what are these but the cries or sighs of an unready, even tired, heart? One becomes ready only when one begins to understand love slowly (or again), and one understands love progressively when one, simply, performs the act of love. Love, like mos…