untitled

it's another one of those songs, poetry, blabber that goes "untitled". i am not the first one and certainly not the last.

i pressured myself. tuned in to an oldies station, dimmed the lights, and poured in a glass of wine. but all these hype and mood-ing(the word escapes me now), got me into untitled.

i wanted to write something about writing.. when i started composing words way back highschool (i guess), i only write them in my head. so that no one else can read them. but that wouldnt work, cos i myself would forget about it in a instant. i was also inspired/influenced by a famous filipino lit, the florante and laura, and wrote a similar poetry myself. it didnt go past 5 or 7 verses. i wasnt impressed by it, but i remember i showed it to my sister and she told me it was good. now that "journal" is gone. so goes the characters. lol

then i started writing about the people i meet. not necessarily physically and ultimately not necessarily exisiting ones. i aint psycho lol.

i started writing about impressions of people on me. i have this theory that people dont exist until you at least exhausted one of your senses, or at least you know someone who did. i will discuss much about this in person. over alcohol.

time ticked. and then i noticed that a lot of other people are writing as well. my cousins,relatives, friends, colleagues and complete strangers. i begin to notice that it is quite interesting to hear people's ideas or projected feeling thru their work.

then i became more interested in writing poetry. i have read some of the pocketbooks we have, like Lochinvar, and the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.. which is grand by the way.. poetry in the the guise of songs however also got my attention and i embraced it. i would easily memorize song lyrics and song chords, but mostly lyrics. i would look for striking points. i would try to identify what the singer/songwriter is trying to say.

remember Dangerous Minds? teacher tells the student about Tambourine Man, a song by Bob Dylan(i studied his songwriting as well).
"Hey mr tambourine man, play a song for me, im not sleepy and there aint no place im going to" - what a nice way to get by insomnia.
but what about - "all my senses have been stripped, my arms cant feel the grip, wait only for my boothills to be wandering".. drugs.

true or not, i am not in the position to confirm or discredit the thought. and there is Stairway To Heaven, that i went thru listening to the backmasked pieces... and there's Hotel California.

well anyway. point is, there is so much things to read, so many thoughts to figure out, so little time. i wrote a few "songs" myself. i have made an album before. a fictitious one. a band name, an album name complete with tracks which i so wrote the lyrics... =) but i thew them all away..

i used to write and not care about what i write. ( well quite frankly i still do, with a little sense of maturity now, and just a pinch of showing off.. lol)

but some time last year, i shared some of what i did to some close friends.. and my buddies in the office. then my friend mark, a great writer himself, told me i should post my poetry on the web via blog, so that people could see and read about them. i was quite hesitant at first (no really., this isnt making it a tagalog soap... lol) but i did create an account in blogspot and posted my "songpoems" *now i have a term for what i do. i posted current ones and the not so new ones that i was able to dig.

there. that is my blogspot success story. i hope i get posted at the index page.

reading other people's poetry, blogs or anything they write is totally entertaining and not a bit less interesting. when i read them, i feel like im eating a quarter pounder at flame it. i dont feel full, but i feel like i have eaten a lot. i can taste the words in my mouth all the way to my head.

i dont know why. i guess that's just the way i take it... i dont know why either, but people fall in love. now it must be the chilean wine.

suck my ending. lol. i am still not an old drunken poet like i always dreamed i would be. i am not the man in leonard cohen's line "there was once a man, who spoke words so beautifuly..." , i am a 25 year old, jobless, ordinary young man.. with eyes like a labrador. lol

cheers!