new poems in philippines graphic reader

So thrilled to share with you that my mini suite of poems titled "Four Poems for the Future" is now published in the July 2022 issue of Philippines Graphic Reader, the literary magazine of Philippines Graphic.

Included in this suite are the works "2022," "Nothing's Too Far," "Flower, Proposed Addendum to Definition of," and "Poem for the Future."

Exceptionally happy to see it featured on the front cover of the magazine with an illustration by Jimbo Docena Albano. Many thanks to the literary editor Marra PL Lanot and Editor-in-Chief Psyche Roxas Mendoza for graciously giving these poems a home. 

It is also heartening to be back in Philippines Graphic; my last work published within its pages was in February 2012 with the poem "How to Not Write Another Story." One could only wish more magazines—like Philippines Free Press and Story Philippines—would return to print publication, reenergized and all too welcome to feature a variety of Filipino literary voices.

The Philippines Graphic Reader can be ordered online thru the Lazada link here.

first publication of the year

My poems, “How to Hate the Apostrophes” and “How to Not Write Another Story,” of which I think should be read together and in that specific order, are in this week’s Philippines Graphic (February 27, vol. 22, no. 39, Justice Serafin Cuevas on the cover). I may not have released anything last month, perhaps opening the new year with literary fireworks, but February’s fine with me. It’s better late than never, right? So, let’s keep things rolling, shall we? Good.

the places we have visited

I had this project in mind for a long time, and it only came into fruition early last year. Its entirety is not done yet, the process is slow, but I am working on it hard. Very hard. It’s just about rendering the places I have visited into verses. These places are in the Philippines, yes, since I guess I have to “celebrate” them as a way of giving back after providing me the means to “produce” something. The Great Wall of China, Niagara Falls, Eiffel Tower, or the Grand Canyon would have to wait.

I know all this is particularly not a novel idea, even old, but it is worthy of my attention, keeping the practice alive. Thus, I am glad to see this practice find its purpose in the pages of Philippines Graphic. My poems “The Trail to Nagsasa Cove, Zambales” and “The Church Floor in Siquijor” are published in this magazine’s July 4 issue. (And there was “Stones” in the June 13 issue with its origin going back to the cities of La Libertad and Tagbilaran).

Though I’ve sent them to the magazine a month ago, of which by this moment they look and feel a little bit different now because of revision (and more revision), happiness washes over me, like I have written them for the very first time.

stoner

My poem, “Stones,” the lengthiest one I have written in that genre (for now), is in the 21st anniversary issue of Philippines Graphic (June 13 issue, vol. 22). The cover story’s on divorce law, by the way. Maybe that would be enough reason for you to pick up the magazine since its official site hasn’t been updated yet. Enjoy.

all work and no play

Jumping bullfrogs! “Blue Collar, White Collar, No Collar: Stories of Work” edited by Richard Ford is something that I’ve been looking for a long time! Fiction that revolves around corporate issues or just even slightly touch on a work environment! Coincidentally, I’m working on a personal project that sounds so much like this for a long time too, spinning tales out of the 38th floor, and coming out probably as too self-absorbed that they end up something like this, this, and this among many others. Besides, I have enough love story anthologies in my bookshelf. I think I need to do this, with my reasons going back to this post I made early last year.

Seriously, I’ve got to find this book, as soon as possible. Or a belated birthday gift, anyone?

birthdays are (not) surprising

Rarely does it matter to me, my birthday. If gifts are present (yes, pun intended), I’d gladly receive them. Gifts or no gifts, life moves on, and I just let the great aging world spin on its tired old orbit.

But yesterday unfolded and fulfilled some of my wishes. Whether it was caused by some cosmic malfunction or that the fates were playing tricks on me, all I can say right now is that it is the greatest malfunction or the most arresting trick I have ever experienced or witnessed. Plus after another plus. And days before the birthday, there are some interesting instances too.

Seriously, it was all unbelievable.

Perhaps this is a long overdue reward, a compensation for whatever good I’ve done? Nah, can’t even recall a single case, so let’s scrap that out. (Or cleaning my bedroom windows last weekend counts?). Anyway, I was thankful, because being thankful is better than questioning a blessing. And three of the most cherished gifts I received yesterday (and the days before that) were:

1) Greetings from people that matter to me and those who try to be. It was a given that my parents’ call and messages were important and the top of them all, but there was one thing that stuck out in a positive way: a handwritten letter sent to me through courier. That was quaint and touching.

2) “Weights,” my first ever poem that is not critiqued by a professor or a patient reader, is published in the Philippines Free Press (March 26 issue).

3) “Morning Prayer,” my short fiction attempt at trying to be sacrilegious, of which I eventually change everything save for the first paragraph, is published in the Philippines Graphic (April 2 issue). It just affirms that I should do without blasphemy.

shameless plug: the ball's inflated

People encouraged keeping the ball rolling. But someone interjected I have to make sure the ball is inflated first so rolling it won’t be a problem. I took it as a friendly reminder. Thankfully, I did.

“Loneness,” my latest short fiction—which was sadly refused by the editors of an upcoming anthology because, well, the project did not push through—has found its way to the pages instead of Philippines Graphic this week.

Looking back, I have now published two short stories in this reputable magazine in two consecutive months, and further back, another short story and a poem in Philippines Free Press. Indeed, the pains of writing are the least of your concerns when you see your works in print. For now, nothing could be more escalating than this thought.

Though sometimes I cannot deny the sad and grim postulations popping inside my head (like “Did they run out of contributors?”), I just take the initiative of creating better works if those aren’t good enough to counter my doubts. What matters is that I’m in it, and though little triumphs such as this makes my heart swell with pride, I will remain humble and thankful for the great cosmos’s shower of blessings.

And of course, I have to remember to keep the ball inflated.

another shameless plug

My fiction debut in the Philippines Free Press last month was something to be very jubilant about. After all, it is my first—at my age (just look at the list of this year’s Palanca winners and you will know)!

To see in print a work that you have toiled on for months is enough gratification, now let’s move on to other things, end of bliss. But one afternoon, I receive a text message from Jess. The short exchange of communication goes like this:

“Hi Jordan. Saw your story in Graphic.”
“Really?! What story?”
“Can’t remember the title… Dry Cleaning ba yon?”
“Anuvah! Cleanwipe Washing Services! Yey!”

And there it is. Two weeks later, after “Poetry in the Time of Influenza,” my other workshop piece has found its way to the pages of Philippines Graphic, one of the weekly magazines that still hold true to the publication of Filipino literature. I am happy! Here's a link of the online version of the magazine.

This cemented in my oftentimes low-spirited being, in slow and little ways, the idea that I can. There’s too much drama detailing how a teacher once asserted on my terrible future in front of the class or how someone I so respected in the familial circle of this discipline (unconsciously?) tried to put me down in public space, so I will simply applaud the art illustration of the fallen man in the story.

Because after countless times of dealing with people of different degrees of schizophrenia, I learn that there is no use brooding in anger and resentment, that the effortless (and best) form of retribution is a wink and a smile. Go sa kebs!

Now, all I have to do is to keep the ball rolling. Or bouncing. Or whatever.