HAIKU NO. 18

  

Your smile I feel

it lives in me

even now you're gone...

 

 Lablab kong Mama...

HAIKU NO. 17

Vertical line

going from left to right

leaving words behind

THE CHAOS (ðə ˈkeɪɒs)

It's always a blessing to learn something new, may it be as life-changing as discovering your true calling or as trivial as knowing why Bluetooth is called as such. And while many of us sometimes get temporarily blinded when we find ourselves caught up in life's noise and haste, there's still a "chaos" that is worth getting a glimpse of.

I'm talking about "The Chaos," a poem "demonstrating the irregularity of English spelling and pronunciation" written by Dutch poet Gerard Nolst Trenité (1870-1946), under the pen name Charivarius. It first served as the appendix to his textbook's fourth edition in 1920, Drop Your Foreign Accent: engelsche uitspraakoefeningen (English pronunciation exercises), but is now known to have a dozen versions. 

I'm no native English speaker, so I can absolutely say that this poem is a revelation -- that the pronunciations of words I thought were correct are actually incorrect, like of the word "indict" and the others in blue text color. So for the fun of it, I'm challenging you to read this "modernized, abbreviated version" of the original poem aloud, then check if your pronunciations are right by watching the YouTube video below. Let's see how you will fare.

The Chaos

by Gerard Nolst Trenite

Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Susy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.

Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it's written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.

Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.

Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation's OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.

Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then say singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.

Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.

Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.

Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.

Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.

Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.

Pronunciation -- think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It's a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.

Finally, which rhymes with enough --
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give it up!

HAIKU NO. 16

Pick it up

turn it quick

to the bookmarked

HAIKU NO. 15

Been trying to get back into the writing groove, but without much success. Ironically, the absence of my writing muse became an inspiration for me to come up with this haiku, which I hope comes anywhere near a "real" one. Ha ha.

A vertical line
nonstop blinking
but going nowhere

I know, I know. I have to go somewhere, anywhere.

HAIKU NO. 14

Just a simple tribute to my long yet worthwhile journey to learning how to play the piano.



Your black and white keys,
teach me how to play them please;
The sound gives me peace.

(An aside: Been reading some web stuff about haiku writing. And I can say, based on what I’ve read, that some, if not all, of the haiku I’ve so far written are pseudo ones. Haiku are not always 5-7-5! At least I’m aware of it now. Rats! Ha ha. Well, I guess it really takes time (a lifetime perhaps?) to master this genre. I just hope that one day I’ll be able to come up with a good enough haiku, one that is truly deserving of your “That’s a good one” remark.)

GO GO GO FOR TWENTY-TWELVE!

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will;
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill.
When the funds are low and the debt are high,
and you want to smile but you have to sigh.
When care is pressing you down a bit,
rest if you must but don't you quit.

Success is failure turned inside out,
the silver line of the clouds of doubt.
And now you never can tell how close you are;
It may be near when it seems afar.
So stick in the fight when you're hardest hit.
IT'S WHEN THINGS GO WRONG THAT YOU MUSTN'T QUIT.

Let's all ring up year-round positivity as we say hello to a new set of 12 months and bid 2011 goodbye!
HAPPY NEW YEAR WORLD!!!

DAY 13: HAIKU NO. 9

JUST DO IT!
You have things to do,
oftentimes you think you can't.
When will you do them?

DAY 6: HAIKU NO. 8

THE MATTRESS LOVER

Can't get up; I like
the warmth beneath these covers.
I still want to sleep.

DAY 1: THE WANNABE POETIC ME

I'm glad that I went over my belongings the other day as I encountered things that really brightened up my mood. One of these was a notebook bearing some of the poems I've written over the years. They're not that many, by the way, but I still take pride in these written-in-verse outputs of mine, even though no one gets to read most of them -- especially my love poems -- but me.

I do remember having composed simple poems for other people, as a thank-you memento kumbaga (I bet my best friend remembers this as well). And though I can hardly recall the exact words I had penned, what I can still see clearly in my head is the smile on the faces of those who were lucky enough (whaaaat?!!!) to have received a poem from me. And thinking about it now, to be able to make someone happy because of your poem is a far better reward than getting a positive critical response. Yet for me, the latter form of appreciation is by all means valuable, which therefore leads me to share with you this poem -- written five or six years ago -- that got these remarks from my Retorika professor:

"Iba ang iyong istilo. Gusto ko (Your style is different. I liked it)."

SI TULA
Sinubukan kong gumawa ng tula,
Isang akdang may sukat at tugma;
Laman ng isip at puso mo ika nga,
'Di pala madali sa simula.

Unti-unti'y nagkaroon ng titik,
Blankong papel sa letra'y naging hitik.
"Maganda 'to," ang aking pakiwari,
Subalit natigilan nang sandali.

Maya-maya, idlip ako'y niyaya.
Teka nga at ito'y pagbigyan muna;
Tulang hinahabi balikan mamaya,
Pagkagising ito'y tatapusin na.

Nguni't tila nasarapan ata.
Hayu't tula'y nakalimutan pa nga.
"Paano na ngayon 'yan?" aniya,
ng tulang asam ay mabuo s'ya.

"Aba, malay ko!" ang biglang sagot ko,
Paano ba nama'y natutulog ako.
Maghanap ka na lang ng magtutuloy sa'yo;
Ang tanong... sino ang tatapos nito?!

Yay!

HAIKU NO. 7

GRIDLOCK
Turn left or turn right?
Perhaps just stay here, I might.
Or must take a flight.

THE HUNT FOR A POEM (part 3)

With the firm belief that I already have copied all of them, here's the Part 3 of this blog's The Hunt for a Poem series. As to "that other" poem "with the same effect on me" like the one I have cited in here, well I guess there's actually none. I did peg away at looking for one, and though they're all exceptional poems, I have never stumbled upon at least one that is quite as memorable as that "poem with unidentified title and writer." All the same, here go the others.



BERSO SA METRO

Shirimiri by Gabriel Celaya
Ulan nang ulan. Walang nangyayari.
Ibig sabihin, nangyayari ang wala.
Ang sarap ng ulan, talaga, ang sarap magpahinga.


Panuntunan ng laro para sa mga lalaking iibig sa mga babaeng-babae by Gioconda Belli
Ang lalaking iibig sa aki'y
dapat marunong humaplos sa kurtina ng balat,
makita ang pangkaraniwan kong mata
at makilala yaong namumugad sa akin,
ang transparenteng maya ng paglalambing.

Ang lalaking iibig sa aki'y
di ako iibigin bilang isang kalakal
o kaya'y ipagyayabang na parang isang tropeo,
mananatili sa 'king piling,
taglay ang pag-ibig kong
nadarama kapag siya'y kapiling.


De mi jardin by Jose Palma
Humingi ka ng mga sampaguita… di kita bibigyan
dahil nang puputulin ko na sa mga sanga'y
nanginig ang aking kamay at ang dibdib ko'y nanikip
dahil sa awa.

Ayokong magdusa ang mga bulaklak na iyan,
gaya ng pagdurusa ng puso kong malayo sa iyo;
ayokong sa sandaling hawakan ng aking kamay,
iya'y malanta at mamatay.


Señorita Provinciana ni Jesus Balmori
Ang binabasa mo'y Abelardo at Eloisa
Paboritong pabango'y sa ashar gawa
at balot ng kislat ng madayang kababalaghan;

Sa simbahan, habang nakikinig ng misa
imbes na ang diyos sa altar ang nakikita
katabing nobyong nakaluhod ang siyang minamasdan.

ARE YOU... TALKING TO ME?!

I always find it amusing albeit odd when out of nowhere things seem to be talking directly to me, like they know how I feel at the moment or something.

I feel sure you've had the same experience as mine. You're pondering over what to do with your vacuous career amid listening to the radio (for background eh?) when the DJ suddenly says to you: "Believe in yourself and you will go far. It worked for me. I'm sure it'll work for you, too."

You're on your way home on a bus perhaps and really feel bent on taking a long time off from your 9-to-5 grind when you happen on a song that goes like: "You'll never enjoy your life living inside the box/ You're so afraid of taking chances/ How you gonna reach the top?"

You're on your insipid way to work and have already labeled the day as ho-hum while looking outside the jeepney window when a car with its rather delightful plate number GOD 100 passes by.

You're like, "Ok, I'm not gonna stress myself with this seemingly unending battle with myself over what my next step will be" by watching your recently discovered highly entertaining TV series when you catch a glimpse of this four-line poem on the screen: "Hold fast to dreams/ For when dreams go/ Life is a barren field/ Frozen with snow." And the list goes on.

"You'll never enjoy your life living inside the box," the song told me then. Curious, I searched for the rest of the song's lyrics on Google and found them to be very apt "words of encouragement" for a scaredy-cat like me.

Waiting Outside the Lines
Greyson Chance

You'll never enjoy your life,
living inside the box
You're so afraid of taking chances,
how you gonna reach the top?

Rules and regulations,
force you to play it safe
Get rid of all the hesitation,
it's time for you to seize the day

Instead of just sitting around
and looking down on tomorrow
You gotta let your feet off the ground,
the time is now

I'm waiting, waiting, just waiting,
I'm waiting, waiting outside the lines
Waiting outside the lines
Waiting outside the lines

Try to have no regrets
even if it's just tonight
How you gonna walk ahead
if you keep living blind

Stuck in that same position,
you deserve so much more
There's a whole world around us,
just waiting to be explored

Instead of just sitting around
and looking down on tomorrow
You gotta let your feet off the ground,
the time is now, just let it go

Don't wanna have to force you to smile
I'm here to help you notice the rainbow
Cause I know,
What's in you is out there

I'm waiting, waiting, just waiting,
I'm waiting, waiting outside the lines
Waiting outside the lines
Waiting outside the lines

I'm trying to be patient (I'm trying to be patient)
the first step is the hardest (the hardest)
I know you can make it,
go ahead and take it

I'm waiting, waiting, just waiting I'm waiting
I'm waiting, waiting, just waiting
I'm waiting, waiting outside the lines
Waiting outside the lines
Waiting outside the lines

You'll never enjoy your life
Living inside the box
You're so afraid of taking chances,
How you gonna reach the top?

The poem, I later found out, was penned by Langston Hughes and has a title "Dreams," which reads: "Hold fast to dreams/ For if dreams die/ Life is a broken-winged bird/ That cannot fly/ Hold fast to dreams/ For when dreams go/ Life is a barren field/ Frozen with snow." And I suppose it likewise fits the bill. (I stumbled upon another great poem of Hughes. See it here.)

And so I say props for these inspirational happenstances. I guess, I've got to be talking to them again soon.

THE HUNT FOR A POEM (revisited)

It is surprising to know that this blog's The Hunt for a Poem (supposedly a "series"), written a little over a year ago, gets the most number of hits (read: the counter on the right says so). Curious, I ran through the said entries and realized that I have had not "completed" the task. For that, I felt kind of sad and dissatisfied with my output for I know that most of these hits were scholastically related. "Did they find what they've been looking for? Was I able to help them with their 'assignment'?" I asked myself. Pfui to my so-called "ningas-kugon" attitude, you know that kind of I-really-am-setting-out-to-put-all-my-enthusiasm-into-this-at-first-but-loses-it-in-the-end-anyway approach of my ilk (pardon the excessive use of hyphen ). But most of all, I'm saddened by the implication of this on my working attitude: that I have the predilection for abandoning what I have started and for being swayed by "distractions."

Yet, the goals still stand: I need to look for "that poem" and record the ones on display in the commuter trains; even if not all, at least a little more than I already have here. So, be set for Part 3. ^_^

HAIKU NO. 5 & 6

THE WAY THINGS ARE
The sun won't come down,
but it just did yesterday.
Today. Tomorrow.

FIRST LOVE
Sitting here with you
Feeling things I never felt
Wishing it won't end

HAIKU No. 4

TRANSITION
In a line of trees,
there's one, sans leaves, sans colors;
waiting for what's next.

(Image from here)

HAIKU No. 3

FREE
Looking up I see
blue skies watching over me.
Run, as I feel free!

(Image from here)

HAIKU No. 2

BEST FRIEND
Knows me inside out.
Lends a hand when I stumble.
Will cry when I'm gone.

(Image from here)

HAIKU No. 1

Here I am, staring at my wide white wall again. Then suddenly, a pencil is picked up and words are started to be woven, ennui-inspired. Below is the creative (how I wish!) result, a haiku.



MY BREAD-AND-BUTTER STORY
Sits all day to read.
Staring at all these words.
Something I enjoy.

(Image from here)

BUT THERE ARE DREAMS THAT CANNOT BE...

"Let go of the things you cannot change," I'd read somewhere, somewhat an advice I painfully took — I let him go, or rather, the feeling. I admit I still miss him sometimes and still feel this ancient pain I only feel when I think of him, but always beat back the thought (I call it just a 'thought' now). I don't want to expect he feels the same way for me; all the same, my pent-up feelings for him allowed my creative juices flowing, and for that I was grateful. I decided to publish here on my blog one of the versed compositions I have written out of this suppressed love for him, treating it as a sign that I am finally letting myself to be heart-free.

(Heads-up! The following is a lackluster display of poetic abilities. Spare me the critical evaluation please!)

MY LOVE SONG
Love songs seemed to pass me by;
They never sang to me, I wonder why.
Could hardly feel their meanings
since every line just passed my hearing.

As I trailed each love songs' parade,
keeping with the tune, following the beat.
Pretended to hear more, when I barely listened.
Not knowing one day this piece would be played—

You are my love song, humming so softly.
You are my love song, my heart sings with glee.

Now every love song says hello,
always sings for me wherever I go.
With every line strumming my heart
And this voice in my ears keeps on crooning—

You are my love song, a beautiful sound.
You are my love song, my favorite melody.

As you lull me to sleep each night,
Chorus of good morning to a day of zest;
I play you back a thousand times
and keep up with you like an LSS—

You are my love song, forever playing.
You are my love song, the music in me.

My life's singsong, that's what you are;
Humming to myself than sing it out loud.
Been praying one day you'd hear it, too.
Before my heart hears a song that's not you...