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Text of the page (random words):
textually active textually active my writes as an individual saturday november 06 2021 terra dad was a rural development expert he was professor of public administration at the university of the philippines college dean before he resigned in 1989 he coordinated research and training in rural development while at the asian and pacific development centre apdc in kuala lumpur malaysia from 1978 to 1981 he also produced journal articles book chapters and edited volumes on topics like the management financing and stakeholder mobilization for rural development today would have been his 89th birthday here are is a triptych of poems he wrote rural development no date untitled 1979 and the flight 1985 each poem distills anger at death and barrenness in the fields fecundity sacrificed on the altar of modernity posted by sol at 9 09 pm no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels all about my father saturday april 18 2020 recipoems procrastination we meet again guacamole conclusion recipe walk with the dog to the market head home and do some yoga eventually take out two ripe avocados scoop out the flesh marvel at the perfectly popped seeds roughly chop a tomato extract less than half a lemon s worth of juice slice and dice a bit of red onion remember to always remove the annoying slippery outer skin from now on chop two small cloves of garlic finely chop cilantro leaves and one red hot chili pepper sans most of the seeds sprinkle a bit of cumin and a a few grindings of salt and pepper mix et voilà guacamole and a recipe for writing your conclusion february 9 2020 singapore nonya chicken curry from scratch as a labor of love first you need to figure out where to get exotic sounding ingredients like candlenuts kaffir lime leaves and galangal you must then realize you live in singapore and they are all easily obtained from the supermarket even in the middle of a global pandemic and city wide lockdown because the body politic still needs its curry rub the chicken down with a few grindings of salt and the super authentic curry spice mix that you ordered online from a local artisan and excitedly checked the mailbox for every day until it arrived much later than normal because coronavirus then you finally get started on what ll make this special the curry paste seriously pound with a mortar and pestle a red hot chili pepper sans their seeds five shallots and finally understand what shallots are and how they re different from red onions a couple of inches of ginger half a dozen candlenuts a few cloves of garlic a few curry leaves maybe some belachan or bagoong and a couple of tablespoons of spice figure out how to liberate lemongrass from its unneeded sheath and set a few stalks aside peel and chop some potatoes wash and separate some lime leaves from their stems stir fry the paste with oil so the paste absorbs the oil and until the oil sort of sweats out of the paste but you won t be really sure when that is add the chicken lemongrass lime leaves and potatoes coating them well in the paste add a can of coconut milk and a bit more of the spice stirred in for good measure let the whole thing simmer for thirty minutes and at the end add a tablespoon of lime juice and a bit of salt serve with some greens love and baguettes look at the empty chair next to you sigh away the heaviness from your heart and hope that next time he ll be there to labor with you april 16 2020 singapore haiku pine nuts olive oil garlic basil salt pepper parmesan pesto april 18 2020 singapore posted by sol at 3 48 pm no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels writes monday november 06 2017 poems three when i was ten i found an old book with an inscription handwritten addressed to my mom and dated before i was born you touch me in my most secret moments like a vagrant light and i am whole being an incorrigible show off i performed the lines for a speech and drama class assignment even if the fog comes on little cat feet would have sufficed undeterred i unnecessarily performed anthony s oration later that year anyway the author was my dad university professor by day occasional poet by mood he died when i was thirteen the book was lost but a version of the poem for my mother was typed up along with his other poems and bound into an unpublished folio of sorts happy birthday daddy posted by sol at 10 36 pm no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels all about my father sunday october 30 2016 if only gabriel u iglesias no date circa mid to late 1970s maybe it s my imagination but i think you were first writing about marcos slash the ruling oligarchs slash the authoritarian state then at the end you were speaking to yourself posted by sol at 11 54 am no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels all about my father wednesday september 28 2016 newsworthy do gooders anonymous discuss current events on whatsapp posted by sol at 2 16 pm no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels do gooders anonymous wednesday october 21 2015 coming of age this process of trying to know my father who died in mongolia when i was 13 is never ending because he left this world when i was too young to befriend him to debate and argue with him to talk politics meaningfully to ask for advice on what i should study or what to do with my career or life or kid the last fatherly advice i remember was no boyfriends until you graduate a minority in a family of females he is the posthumous butt of family jokes like the time in baguio when he forgot to wear his dentures stepped into the elevator while grinning at a colleague inside clapped his hand over his mouth in realization and ran back to our hotel room or the time we spent hours waiting for him to change a flat tire being stranded on the winding road to taal lake in tagaytay in fury he finally kicked the damn thing and it obediently rolled off onto the ground in our family lore is the episode when he first returned from caracas weakened by his first major coronary a decade before his death the flight crew brought him out in a wheelchair on his lap was an enormous snoopy a gift for the baby in the family me before my position was usurped by our youngest the absurd image of this larger than life man juxtaposed with the frailty of a fluffy toy dog was too much for my aunt to bear and she burst unconsolably into tears this story always cracks us up when we recall it once i had to read some kind of poetry for my speech and drama class must have been eleven or so smart aleck that i was and having already exhausted my teacher s patience by a theatrical antony s oration the week before i decided to elevate my dad s poetry to performance i had found an inscription in some book in dad s unmistakable scrawl that said you touch me like a ray of light in a darkened room you touch me and i am whole when i had the chance to talk to him i asked if he had written it for mom of course he did he said and sure i could perform it if i wanted i couldn t tell if he was pleased by this paean to him i ve since lost the book with its yellowed pages and the pale blue ink of his words i have however found this and quite liked it in a few days it ll be 25 years since he died and my son g after him is growing into his own man i suppose i would rather not really perceive the inner workings and name the demons that drove him i don t know if it would have mattered in the end if he really saw me for who i was not just one of the kids or the one who used to be the baby or understood who i ve become yet i hold on to a conceit that i m the one most like him a little diffuse a bit too externally oriented caught up with friends and the world outside and its conflicts and the realms of the written driven by demons in the wee hours of the night some days it seems that the sum total of who i am was always compelled by the need to win his approval after he died to be the person that leaves the girl posted by sol at 2 58 am no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels all about my father thursday august 27 2015 zeitgeist umbad chocolatini einosk and divehammie cogitate on the defining spirit of this moment in history posted by sol at 11 38 am no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels do gooders anonymous saturday august 08 2015 those of us that were broken those of us that were broken those of us that are a little less than whole will one day smile amid the fissures there is still music to be sung the melody in and of itself the words weightless we will blink in the sunlight and wonder at how the world had become that much brighter while we hadn t noticed oceans will open and bear us under the stars indifferent to the past posted by sol at 6 50 pm no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels writes sunday march 23 2014 two poems about not love i when love is absent where is it else when love is absent where is it else does it like a soul reincarnate is it like energy transferred will it as a phrase find new object when is its eternal return if it was once is it now not or never from once being now nihilate does pain like a cuckoo make its nest feather it with hatred and bits of all things lost all things considered only one is certain ii the midnight scab i keep picking at the midnight scab i keep picking at finding the right words to convey in full force outrage humiliation frustration fear sadness sadness sadness sadness anger sadness anger sadness they chase each other from the fore and to the recesses of my tired mind if i write this a million times will they go away but never love not ever posted by sol at 11 46 am no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels writes tuesday february 11 2014 the cartography of love and not love is the cartography of love and not love is temporal not spatial plotted by contrasts not absolutes attend the bliss of fecundity the anticipation of immortality the pain of disease the gravity of dissolution a single space that lies along a fold of time peace and conflict home and battleground love and not love a function of when but when posted by sol at 2 17 am no comments email this blogthis share to x share to facebook share to pinterest labels writes older posts home followers blog archive 2021 1 november 1 terra 2020 1 april 1 2017 1 november 1 2016 2 october 1 september 1 2015 3 october 1 august 2 2014 2 march 1 february 1 2012 10 november 1 july 1 may 1 april 3 march 1 february 2 january 1 2011 7 october 1 march 2 february 2 january 2 2009 6 october 1 september 1 august 4 2008 13 november 1 august 1 july 1 june 2 may 3 march 2 january 3 2007 35 november 2 october 1 august 2 july 7 june 2 may 5 april 1 march 6 february 3 january 6 2006 20 december 6 november 13 october 1 labels all about my father 7 ambient noise 4 chiaroscuro 5 do gooders anonymous 14 dreams 2 east timor 5 geek mythology 3 issues 10 the citadel 2 writes 23 links einoski fantasies of a bottom dweller kapten umbad life and times of gay the fallen the perpetually misunderstood wimsey about me sol view my complete profile sol iglesias s facebook profile simple theme powered by blogger