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Into the Poem

Surrounded by the damp, smoggy evening air of Katipunan Avenue, Joel Toledo sat on the porch, around his friends holding cigarettes with thumbs and index fingers and signing autographs. In fact, he was quite unremarkable save for the few eagerly awaiting figures clutching thin blue books and pens, and the two Palanca Awards under his belt. He wore jeans, a green polo and glasses. He had a Baller band on his right wrist and wrote signatures and thank-you-notes with his left hand. His poetry was going to be read, but he said “that’s still later at 9.” He continued writing signatures, taking his time thanking the new found fan and listening to congratulatory small talk.

It was the 57^th Happy Mondays Poetry Night, Toledo released his new volume of 59 poems “The Long Lost Startle,” with pieces that won for him the 2006 Bridport Prize and the 2006 Meritage Press Prize. It was a night-long book signing and poetry reading event in celebration of his newly published paperback by the University of the Philippines Press at the mag:net Café, Gallery, Bar and Resto in Katipunan Avenue, venue of many a local artistic event.

Inside, the first floor proved its ‘Gallery’ title not just for show. On the plain white walls hung paintings idle passers-by noted as “pretty awesome,” all of which were on sale for various prices. They were a striking mix of gothic chic and modernist weirdness, along with every conceivable style, graffiti, pop culture, post-impressionism, cubism and abstractionism to name a few. All closely akin to the wall imagery in the upstairs bathroom; blue and yellow heavenly streaks of light coming from a man with a turban and a crystal ball, floating two hands-width above the toilet.

The other upstairs pieces were no different, a macabre Mickey Mouse photo and a sexually suggestive picture of a woman with “4 holes,” number 1 being a clear-cut hole on her thigh. They were all illuminated by yellow bulbs on the ceiling of the long, narrow room. Despite the size, the room does not suggest crowdedness. New age homey was the phrase, new age like the wasabi onion rings or Pinakbet pizza on their menu and homey like the food’s nostalgic aftertaste of forced vegetable consumption.

Right beside the stage was a table filled with merry old men holding beer bottles and spoonfuls of Sisig. From there stood a man wearing a just as casual get-up as the star of the night. Kris Lacaba, the evening’s host, gave a very warm and short introduction to Toledo, a fellow poet of his, and all the other special guest readers for tonight which he called the bigatin ng poetry (poetry greats), an impressive affair where all the great literary minds of the Philippines converged. He called upon Gemino Abad, who incidentally wrote the book’s introduction and is currently the director of the U.P. institute of Creative Writing, to the stage and recipient of a long list of awards and fellowships, who read ‘Softness’ from “The Long Lost Startle.” During which, Toledo entered the room silently and sat beside his wife and daughter of no more than ten, who came too in support of her father deep into a school night. “Now my father sits…” read Abad.

Among the other readers, too was Alfred ‘Krip’ Yuson, the world famous postmodernist Filipino writer with a “fanatic abhorrence for ordinary language” and a matured, gruff voice, read an apropos ‘Drunk Leaning Into the Poem,’ where he urged the audience to toast to the lines ‘get up, drink up.” He was one of the sagely old men drinking beers near the stage and laughing about retold stories of the past. He wore jeans and a blue soccer Zidane shirt for the event, and opened with something of an inside joke that made the nearby seated parties laugh. Patrick Rosal too, Global Filipino Literacy Awardee amongst others, also read from Toledo’s new book. Renowned film director Khavn de la Cruz, prolific translator Marne Kilates, TV personality Wincy Ong, all greats in their field, all reading poetry for a tightly packed room of no more than two dozen people sans waiters and staff, and all close friends of the artist who penned the words; from page to stage.

The entire evocative foray and celebration of the arts was postponed for an hour in Filipino fashion, spilled into the morning, and ended with musical performances by Ang Bandang Shirley, Goliath and Los Chupacabraz. “The Long Lost Startle, I believe, will be a considered a major work in Philippine Poetry” – Eric Gamalinda, and that two dozen blessed shall remember its humble beginnings.

Drunk Leaning Into the Poem

There is so much potential here. A steady rain

spoiling the backdrop, a spinning cliche.

Nothing seems more perfect than the hours spent

deciphering the cruel forms, the sturdy structures.

Nothing feels more poetic. Nick Joaquin, gone.

Franz tripping on his way to the Writing Center.

NVM going postmodern. The dead rise up to reclaim

their spaces in the tradition

Where are we, then, ensconced in the quiet evening,

safe from the rain? The critics lurk 'round the bend,

toasting the departure(d). And literature grows complex

like the gnarled branches of some local tree

I daresay, what has the heart to say in all this?

Some higher power must charge the words,

lead the blind to occasional vision. I see you: I hear

the straining voices of the dead, the rain growing older

moment by moment, sprawled miserably now,

hugging the streets like some bum or national artist.

Get up, drink up. There is no end to this weather,

no end to this talk.

Joel M. Toledo


Krip Yuzon