Saturday, April 25, 2009
Let’s Vault In! ( My Eat Bulaga Experience) - 16th Story for the Inspirational Book
By: ROY DELA CRUZ
(This story was written in January 2007, a year after the event happened. And it took a barber to remind me about it, which made me write my story… and so it goes…)
It was over a year, January of 2006 actually, I have almost forgotten, until somebody reminded me about it.
Last week while I was having my haircut, the barber who hardly knew me asked, “Sir, di po ba kayo yung nanalo sa Eat Bulaga dati?” (Sir, weren’t you the one who won in Eat Bulaga?) I was surprised because, more than a year has passed. It was then that it occurred to me that I haven’t written about it yet.
Yes, I won in an Eat Bulaga contest, a popular noontime show here in the Philippines. And I was on television last year. There are lots of stories – before, during and after I claimed the price. Now before you think otherwise, I didn’t dance in Eat Bulaga nor did I join the Mr. Pogi contest.
I won in the home partner portion for their game Laban or Bawi, which was the Let’s Vault In. I have been joining the contest since it started. Because I was jobless I was able to watch almost all shows on TV then - Eat Bulaga included. But after some months of texting, I quit joining thinking that there was no way I could win there.
But on that fateful day of January, I was again in front of the TV watching Laban o Bawi on Eat Bulaga. While watching, I noticed my cell phone lying in front of me. I picked it up and started composing the format for the text contest – the numbers of the first and last contestants who answered the questions correctly.
I already have the first number typed in, the contest was still in progress. Until finally, only two contestants were left. I just typed in the number of one of them and sent the text to the required number. I just sent two text entries.
After that, I went out of the house hoping that I could find some opportunities elsewhere. I left my cell phone at home then.
I came home at around 7 PM, listless and indifferent, when my wife met me and she seemed to be very excited.
She gushed breathless, “Sumali ka ba sa Eat Bulaga?” (Did you join in Eat Bulaga?) I didn’t tell her about the text I had sent because I actually have forgotten about it and I never really expected anything from it..jpg)
So I said yes and asked her why.
She recounted excitedly what happened in my absence, “Tumawag ang Eat Bulaga sa cell mo, tinatanong kung sino yung nagtext at kung ano yung combination. Sabi ko, baka husband ko kasi siya yung sumasali. Tinanong sa akin kung alam ko yung combination sabi ko hindi. Tatawag daw ulit sila. Kaso tumawag na ulit sila wala ka pa rin! Bat kasi di mo sinasabi sa akin e?!”
(They called up your cell phone asking who joined the contest and they would like to know about the number combination you texted them. I said you were out, and I didn’t know the combination. They informed me they will call up again and they did, but you were still not here. Why didn’t you tell me?!)
I was dumbfounded! I didn’t know what to say!
An opportunity passed me by and I just let it slipped away!
For the rest of the night, I was quiet; constantly looking at my cell phone every now and then…. waiting… hopefully….
Then at around 9:30 PM, my cell rang, I hurriedly picked it up.
My hands were shaking uncontrollably: “Hello, si Mr. Arnaldo dela Cruz po ba ito?”, “Oo, ito nga. Sino po sila?”, “Sa Eat Bulaga po ito, sumali po ba kayo sa Let’s Vault In?”,”Yes mam! sumali po ako”,”Ano po yung combination na pinadala ninyo?”
(”Hello, is this Arnaldo dela Cruz”, “Yes, who’s this?”, ”We’re from Eat Bulaga, did you join the contest?”, ”Yes mam! I did!””What were the combinations you sent?”)
I told her the combination. “Okay, for verification, ano po yung complete address nila?” (Okay, for verification, what is your complete address?) And my heart was hammering in my chest, as I blurted out our address.
(This story was written in January 2007, a year after the event happened. And it took a barber to remind me about it, which made me write my story… and so it goes…)
It was over a year, January of 2006 actually, I have almost forgotten, until somebody reminded me about it.
Last week while I was having my haircut, the barber who hardly knew me asked, “Sir, di po ba kayo yung nanalo sa Eat Bulaga dati?” (Sir, weren’t you the one who won in Eat Bulaga?) I was surprised because, more than a year has passed. It was then that it occurred to me that I haven’t written about it yet.
Yes, I won in an Eat Bulaga contest, a popular noontime show here in the Philippines. And I was on television last year. There are lots of stories – before, during and after I claimed the price. Now before you think otherwise, I didn’t dance in Eat Bulaga nor did I join the Mr. Pogi contest.
I won in the home partner portion for their game Laban or Bawi, which was the Let’s Vault In. I have been joining the contest since it started. Because I was jobless I was able to watch almost all shows on TV then - Eat Bulaga included. But after some months of texting, I quit joining thinking that there was no way I could win there.
But on that fateful day of January, I was again in front of the TV watching Laban o Bawi on Eat Bulaga. While watching, I noticed my cell phone lying in front of me. I picked it up and started composing the format for the text contest – the numbers of the first and last contestants who answered the questions correctly.
I already have the first number typed in, the contest was still in progress. Until finally, only two contestants were left. I just typed in the number of one of them and sent the text to the required number. I just sent two text entries.
After that, I went out of the house hoping that I could find some opportunities elsewhere. I left my cell phone at home then.
I came home at around 7 PM, listless and indifferent, when my wife met me and she seemed to be very excited.
She gushed breathless, “Sumali ka ba sa Eat Bulaga?” (Did you join in Eat Bulaga?) I didn’t tell her about the text I had sent because I actually have forgotten about it and I never really expected anything from it.
So I said yes and asked her why.
She recounted excitedly what happened in my absence, “Tumawag ang Eat Bulaga sa cell mo, tinatanong kung sino yung nagtext at kung ano yung combination. Sabi ko, baka husband ko kasi siya yung sumasali. Tinanong sa akin kung alam ko yung combination sabi ko hindi. Tatawag daw ulit sila. Kaso tumawag na ulit sila wala ka pa rin! Bat kasi di mo sinasabi sa akin e?!”
(They called up your cell phone asking who joined the contest and they would like to know about the number combination you texted them. I said you were out, and I didn’t know the combination. They informed me they will call up again and they did, but you were still not here. Why didn’t you tell me?!)
I was dumbfounded! I didn’t know what to say!
An opportunity passed me by and I just let it slipped away!
For the rest of the night, I was quiet; constantly looking at my cell phone every now and then…. waiting… hopefully….
Then at around 9:30 PM, my cell rang, I hurriedly picked it up.
My hands were shaking uncontrollably: “Hello, si Mr. Arnaldo dela Cruz po ba ito?”, “Oo, ito nga. Sino po sila?”, “Sa Eat Bulaga po ito, sumali po ba kayo sa Let’s Vault In?”,”Yes mam! sumali po ako”,”Ano po yung combination na pinadala ninyo?”
(”Hello, is this Arnaldo dela Cruz”, “Yes, who’s this?”, ”We’re from Eat Bulaga, did you join the contest?”, ”Yes mam! I did!””What were the combinations you sent?”)
I told her the combination. “Okay, for verification, ano po yung complete address nila?” (Okay, for verification, what is your complete address?) And my heart was hammering in my chest, as I blurted out our address.
“Mr. dela Cruz, sa ngayon po hindi pa po kayo sure na nanalo. Makakapunta po ba kayo bukas sa Broadway Centrum?”,”Yes mam! Pwede po akong pumunta”, “O sige po, be here po before 9:30 AM, magdala po kayo ng valid ID na may address po na binigay ninyo. Bukas pa lang po natin mako-confirm yung panalo ninyo a. Basta be here early po. Wag po kayo magtsi-tsinelas kasi po may posibility po na lumabas kayo sa TV. Sige po sir, bye.”
(”Mr. dela Cruz, as of this moment you are not yet a guaranteed winner. Can you be here tomorrow at Broadway Centrum?”, ”Yes mam! I can go there”,”Okay then, be here before 9:30 AM and bring a valid ID with the address you texted us. Then we can confirm if you really won. Just be here early and please don’t wear slippers, you might appear on TV. Okay sir, bye.”)
I was speechless after that, I was looking at my family and I wasn’t saying a word.
They were asking me if it were Eat Bulaga who called. When I was finally able to say ‘Yes’, they all shouted with glee!
I was very thankful because after two calls, they still called me back. They didn’t give the P25,000 to other contestants who also sent text entries… my chance was not forfeited.
I felt tears trying to escape my eyes, as I was silently praying and thanking God. I was jobless then, and I remember telling myself “P25,000, that’s a good 7 to 8 dialysis sessions for my wife.”
It was then that my tears finally managed to escape….
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Roy dela Cruz is a truly amazing and dedicated blogger.
Presently, he has 13 blogs, and these blogs belong to different interesting categories.
He has an inspirational blog, a Kapampangan blog written in the vernacular, a business blog, a blog solely for his departed spouse, a random thoughts blog and the recently added short stories blog.
He doesn't fail to surprise me with the amount of passion he has for blogging.
His 13 blogs are the following:
Be Inspired Now!
Etsetera! Etsetera!
Kapampangan Blog
Letters To Mama
Money OnLine
more than just copy-paste
REFLECTIONS
Roysville dot Com
Short Stories Blog
Subukan Taya Ing Kapampangan!
Sugar Coated World
The House Of Puroy
http://thestrugglingblogger.168center.com/
Do visit them and learn from his various informative posts.
To know more about Roy, click HERE. Thanks Roy for submitting another heartwarming story.
(”Mr. dela Cruz, as of this moment you are not yet a guaranteed winner. Can you be here tomorrow at Broadway Centrum?”, ”Yes mam! I can go there”,”Okay then, be here before 9:30 AM and bring a valid ID with the address you texted us. Then we can confirm if you really won. Just be here early and please don’t wear slippers, you might appear on TV. Okay sir, bye.”)
I was speechless after that, I was looking at my family and I wasn’t saying a word.
They were asking me if it were Eat Bulaga who called. When I was finally able to say ‘Yes’, they all shouted with glee!
I was very thankful because after two calls, they still called me back. They didn’t give the P25,000 to other contestants who also sent text entries… my chance was not forfeited.
I felt tears trying to escape my eyes, as I was silently praying and thanking God. I was jobless then, and I remember telling myself “P25,000, that’s a good 7 to 8 dialysis sessions for my wife.”
It was then that my tears finally managed to escape….
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Roy dela Cruz is a truly amazing and dedicated blogger.Presently, he has 13 blogs, and these blogs belong to different interesting categories.
He has an inspirational blog, a Kapampangan blog written in the vernacular, a business blog, a blog solely for his departed spouse, a random thoughts blog and the recently added short stories blog.
He doesn't fail to surprise me with the amount of passion he has for blogging.
His 13 blogs are the following:
Be Inspired Now!
Etsetera! Etsetera!
Kapampangan Blog
Letters To Mama
Money OnLine
more than just copy-paste
REFLECTIONS
Roysville dot Com
Short Stories Blog
Subukan Taya Ing Kapampangan!
Sugar Coated World
The House Of Puroy
http://thestrugglingblogger.168center.com/
Do visit them and learn from his various informative posts.
To know more about Roy, click HERE. Thanks Roy for submitting another heartwarming story.
Image of Eat Bulaga from: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eat_Bulaga
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Gewgaw's Short Story Wins in WOOF Contest
Fiction
About Writing
Jena Isle – “Was Love Meant to Last Forever?” - Is there such a thing as eternal love? A story of love's imperfections.
About Writing
Roy – “Getting back to poetry... my real reflection” - Rediscovering my love for poetry writing...
Izzy Daniels – “Maximizing Your Writing Time: Ideas! I need Ideas!” - Ways to come up with ideas for your writing, and maximizing your outline in order to avoid having to go back.
Poetry / Poetic Fiction
Zorlone – “Ancient Cities” - We are awed by the presence of astounding skyscrapers, sturdy bridges, and majestic monuments. They are in one way or the other influenced by the ancient cities from all over the world.
Deeptesh Sen – “Time Travel” - It's the creation of a surreal city which you can reach through your mirrors by means of time travel.The vehicle for this telepathic transport is a symphony.
Dragon Blogger – “Unlikeable” - A random word poem about a person who is simply unlikeable.
Gabriel Gadfly – “Shelter” - Two creatures cross paths at the junction of life and death.
Zorlone - “A Gentle Touch” - An intimate beauty of lovers sharing their passion for one another.
Brought to you by PlotDog Press with the Serial Suspense Screenplay "Intervention"
(WOOF participants should re-post all the links above by next Monday. The following links may be excluded as long as you include all the above links.)Presenting the finest of the writer’s blogs by the bloggers who write them. Highlighting the top posts as chosen by the April 17, 2009 WOOF Contest participants. Want in to join the next WOOF? The next contest ends April 24. Submit a link to your best writing post of the last 3 weeks using the form on this page. Participants, repost the winning link list within a week and you’re all set.
Other WOOF Contestants for 04/17/09
About Writing
Jonathan Crossfield - “Finding creative freedom by adding limitations” - Why creative freedom isn't necessarily a good thing. The more constraints we have, the more creative we are forced to become. Supported by some interesting video of Robert McKee.
Writing Nag – “The Chasm Between” - It's very difficult to get on the page what we imagine in our mind. These 15 prompts may help you get started.
Fiction
Webbielady – “How She Wish She Could Stay” - She wishes to stay with him longer... or even forever. Will she attain this goal? Would her wish be granted?
Non-Fiction, Life Improvement, Spiritual
Amritbir Kaur - “Prayer” - Prayer is not a mere lip service. Do we ever introspect ourselves? Read more...
Poetry / Poetic Fiction
Alex McGaughan – “Found Poem: Spam Villanelle” - This is a bit of found poetry I did using the spam comments from my blog as my source. The form is a traditional Villanelle, with the A-B-A rhyme scheme and repeated lines.
Dragon Blogger - “A Million Followers” - Fun Poem to join the hype to help Ashton Kutcher reach a million followers on twitter, I don't think he read it though.
Jennifer M Scott – “April” - An acrostic poem about April.
Jennifer M Scott – “Haiku Series #17” - Random haikus on different topics.
Jennifer M Scott – “Finding My Reprieve” - A poem written in nonette form about finding one self.
Jennifer M Scott - “Depressed April” - A very short poem about rainy days in April.
Jennifer M Scott – “A Kiss From Apollo” - Dedicated to the god of poetry Apollo.
Dragon Blogger – “Gluttony” - Random word poem consisting of 13 words about someone not caring about their health and eating poorly.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Started Small
By: Jena Isle
Left!
Right!
Left!
Right!
I commanded my bare feet to keep running.
My footsteps echoed ominously in the deserted, asphalted street. Rivulets of sweat were trickling down my grimy face; down my eyes, marring my vision.
Just one more corner and I'll be safe. Please God, if you're really out there, just this once, help me!
"Over here," an angry voice startled me. I could hear their footsteps closing in, from the distance.
I made one, last turn and there it was - my sanctuary! I lifted the small window, wiggled my way through the small opening, and tumbled unceremoniously down the cold, damp floor below.
My sore muscles groaned as I rolled over to cushion the impact of my fall. I tried to catch my breath as I lay down there winded.
Just then, a voice above me thundered, "Where has he gone?"
"Go on, down the street, he might manage to escape."
There was a shuffle.
"Wait, there's an opened window here..."
I cringed as his voice came from the small opening where I had slipped in minutes ago.
" I can't see a thing, do you have a light?'
"Here,” I heard the second man speak in a guttural voice.
I held my breath and waited for the moment of discovery.
There was a tiny flicker of light above me. My teeth were chattering so badly, I was afraid they could hear it.
"How am I supposed to see with a lighter?' the first man was definitely irked.
"Hey, come on, he couldn't possibly slip in there, it's too dark and high. Can't you hear the rats scampering? He would be screaming in pain and fright right now, if he did."
I kept still with my head resting on the concrete, damp floor. I willed my body to stop trembling. The rats skittered around in confusion, disturbed by my intrusion.
"We have to be sure! These pesky snatchers should be given a lesson."
The man attempted to bring the lighter farther down the window, but it was extinguished before he could do so.
The man cursed and stomped his feet in frustration. "If I see that wee shite - I'm going to waste him."
"I don't think he's down there, c'mon," the younger voice called out.
These men were out to grind me into tiny morsels of useless meat, ready to cook and be gobbled up for their party.
There was a grunt as the second man finally stood up, and I could hear the sound of their running footsteps fading away in the stillness of the night.
I slumped in relief and would have laughed out loud if I had the strength, but I was like a deflated balloon.
I remained supine for a few minutes and basked in the feeling of freedom.
I should thank my "rat friends". They were as unruly as ever. They never bit me though; perhaps they recognized me by my smell. We share the same stink I believe, there was no water to be able to take a daily bath.
But I have an advantage over them; I took long luxurious baths in Armando’s bath tub, whenever I came up with a "find" (our code word for stolen goods), while they wallowed in this dilapidated room, day in and day out.
Armando was our big boss. We all reported to him whenever we had a "find".
"Use your eyes, " he would goad us. "There are many out there. Be sure you won't get caught!"
Sometimes, when one of us got unlucky, Armando would be in the police precinct in a jiffy. They called him "cap" in that police station and saluted him. I wonder why they did as he had never worn a police uniform.
Almost always they released whoever was caught; after Armando had a drinking spree with them.
My friends and I were scared of Armando because he was enormous and had an ugly, angry scar on his right cheek. The oldest of our group was 12, but he never challenged Armando. We all knew he was our savior! He provided us a roof over our heads and food when we didn't have any "find." I was the youngest of the lot at 9 and I was also the skinniest but the most voracious.
I don't know why my small stomach needed so much food, I was always hungry. Whenever I asked an additional piece of bread from Armando he would snap at me; "Sell more plastic bags and get your "find". When you do, you can eat up to your heart's content."
I chose my clients very well. Those overly-dressed people who scorned at me and cursed me; "Get away from me you stinking rat," and I was just asking for some spare change to buy food.
I had sold only five plastic bags today and what I earned, could only buy me a piece of candy. I and my friends would sniff "rugby" to forget our hunger pangs. People used rugby as a glue but we utilized it as a drug. We would pour small portions of it in a plastic bag and inhale it until we felt numb and no longer feel our stomachs growling.
It was during times like these, that mother's memories assailed me: "Always remember the Golden Rule," she had said and although I was skeptical of it, I tried hard to observe this tenet. It was harder to believe in it when mother passed away.
The pain of my loss had grown hazy now, just a dull gnawing stab of nostalgia whenever I recall my moments with her.
Mother died when a speeding truck hit her in the middle of the road. The heartless driver did not even bother to stop. Father died a month later, some helpful neighbors had helped me out with his burial.
The owner ofthe shack we were renting had asked me to vacate the place, right after I came from the cemetery. I pleaded with him to feed me and provide lodging and I would be his humble and loyal servant but, “I don't trust you a bit, go find somewhere else to stay," he snarled at me.
My neighbors were in the same miserable, indigent state as I was, so there was no help for food and lodging from that corner. Their shanties were not enough to house their own big families - much more to feed them.
So I sold whatever belongings were left and came up with a small amount to buy food for several days until it was gone, pffft...nada… and I was forced to join the street children.
Now my body has grown warmer. I would have to stay for the night here. Those men would still be scouring the streets.
I moved to the farthest corner of the room where I cannot be seen from the window and rested my head on a box.
Slowly I opened my hand to reveal the gleaming bracelet. It was an 18 carat gold! Armando would be proud of me!
Tomorrow, I will have a luxurious, warm bath in his tub and will be clean shaven.
Buying a new pair of slippers is a wonderful idea too, and clothes to match.
I'm certain no one would recognize me in my spanking new haircut, grease-free face, and respectable appearance.
I really look forward to tomorrow!
And by the way, my name is Miguelito!
Left!
Right!
Left!
Right!
I commanded my bare feet to keep running.
My footsteps echoed ominously in the deserted, asphalted street. Rivulets of sweat were trickling down my grimy face; down my eyes, marring my vision.
Just one more corner and I'll be safe. Please God, if you're really out there, just this once, help me!
"Over here," an angry voice startled me. I could hear their footsteps closing in, from the distance.
I made one, last turn and there it was - my sanctuary! I lifted the small window, wiggled my way through the small opening, and tumbled unceremoniously down the cold, damp floor below.My sore muscles groaned as I rolled over to cushion the impact of my fall. I tried to catch my breath as I lay down there winded.
Just then, a voice above me thundered, "Where has he gone?"
"Go on, down the street, he might manage to escape."
There was a shuffle.
"Wait, there's an opened window here..."
I cringed as his voice came from the small opening where I had slipped in minutes ago.
" I can't see a thing, do you have a light?'
"Here,” I heard the second man speak in a guttural voice.
I held my breath and waited for the moment of discovery.
There was a tiny flicker of light above me. My teeth were chattering so badly, I was afraid they could hear it.
"How am I supposed to see with a lighter?' the first man was definitely irked.
"Hey, come on, he couldn't possibly slip in there, it's too dark and high. Can't you hear the rats scampering? He would be screaming in pain and fright right now, if he did."
I kept still with my head resting on the concrete, damp floor. I willed my body to stop trembling. The rats skittered around in confusion, disturbed by my intrusion.
"We have to be sure! These pesky snatchers should be given a lesson."
The man attempted to bring the lighter farther down the window, but it was extinguished before he could do so.
The man cursed and stomped his feet in frustration. "If I see that wee shite - I'm going to waste him."
"I don't think he's down there, c'mon," the younger voice called out.
These men were out to grind me into tiny morsels of useless meat, ready to cook and be gobbled up for their party.
There was a grunt as the second man finally stood up, and I could hear the sound of their running footsteps fading away in the stillness of the night.
I slumped in relief and would have laughed out loud if I had the strength, but I was like a deflated balloon.
I remained supine for a few minutes and basked in the feeling of freedom.
I should thank my "rat friends". They were as unruly as ever. They never bit me though; perhaps they recognized me by my smell. We share the same stink I believe, there was no water to be able to take a daily bath.
But I have an advantage over them; I took long luxurious baths in Armando’s bath tub, whenever I came up with a "find" (our code word for stolen goods), while they wallowed in this dilapidated room, day in and day out.
Armando was our big boss. We all reported to him whenever we had a "find".
"Use your eyes, " he would goad us. "There are many out there. Be sure you won't get caught!"
Sometimes, when one of us got unlucky, Armando would be in the police precinct in a jiffy. They called him "cap" in that police station and saluted him. I wonder why they did as he had never worn a police uniform.
Almost always they released whoever was caught; after Armando had a drinking spree with them.
My friends and I were scared of Armando because he was enormous and had an ugly, angry scar on his right cheek. The oldest of our group was 12, but he never challenged Armando. We all knew he was our savior! He provided us a roof over our heads and food when we didn't have any "find." I was the youngest of the lot at 9 and I was also the skinniest but the most voracious.
I don't know why my small stomach needed so much food, I was always hungry. Whenever I asked an additional piece of bread from Armando he would snap at me; "Sell more plastic bags and get your "find". When you do, you can eat up to your heart's content."
I chose my clients very well. Those overly-dressed people who scorned at me and cursed me; "Get away from me you stinking rat," and I was just asking for some spare change to buy food.
I had sold only five plastic bags today and what I earned, could only buy me a piece of candy. I and my friends would sniff "rugby" to forget our hunger pangs. People used rugby as a glue but we utilized it as a drug. We would pour small portions of it in a plastic bag and inhale it until we felt numb and no longer feel our stomachs growling.
It was during times like these, that mother's memories assailed me: "Always remember the Golden Rule," she had said and although I was skeptical of it, I tried hard to observe this tenet. It was harder to believe in it when mother passed away.
The pain of my loss had grown hazy now, just a dull gnawing stab of nostalgia whenever I recall my moments with her.
Mother died when a speeding truck hit her in the middle of the road. The heartless driver did not even bother to stop. Father died a month later, some helpful neighbors had helped me out with his burial.
The owner of
My neighbors were in the same miserable, indigent state as I was, so there was no help for food and lodging from that corner. Their shanties were not enough to house their own big families - much more to feed them.
So I sold whatever belongings were left and came up with a small amount to buy food for several days until it was gone, pffft...nada… and I was forced to join the street children.
Now my body has grown warmer. I would have to stay for the night here. Those men would still be scouring the streets.
I moved to the farthest corner of the room where I cannot be seen from the window and rested my head on a box.
Slowly I opened my hand to reveal the gleaming bracelet. It was an 18 carat gold! Armando would be proud of me!
Tomorrow, I will have a luxurious, warm bath in his tub and will be clean shaven.
Buying a new pair of slippers is a wonderful idea too, and clothes to match.
I'm certain no one would recognize me in my spanking new haircut, grease-free face, and respectable appearance.
I really look forward to tomorrow!
And by the way, my name is Miguelito!
Photo 1 by René Ehrhardt
( I am thinking of expanding it to a novelette).
Friday, April 17, 2009
Julia Ward's - Poetry Friday
Julia Ward of a Blinding Heart has a recent post of poems from different authors in her blog.
Julia is a great poet herself. She wrote one splendid poem for the post.
I read this from her About me Page and I can't help but post it here:
Biography (By Julia Ward)
"I found myself alone in an Emergency Room last year. I couldn't hear the shouting or even my own breathing as they pulled me onto a gurney with cold white sheets. My heart had been stabbed by a screaming white light that tore through me like a lazer. When my heart stopped, all I wanted was to see the dazzling red dragonfly that sat motionless in the palm of my hand so many summers ago.
I live now with a blinding heart, not sure when the jerky, tortured rythm will stop.
Lightning can not kill me.
My soul has been stripped clean of my former self. My soul drifting like a leaf in a dark stream.
I am no longer able to paint. My music is slow and tortured. I thought I could write, just ask the neighbor's cat.
Perhaps it would be better if you just listened for a while. At least until the storms come and the lightning chases me off the porch."
julia ward
Other poems are from:
Francis Scudellari, the poet, writer and the quintessential artist has written one superb poem too. He has a main site FrancisScudellari.com , which features all his creative works. It is one awesome site you would not like to miss. Read his interesting short stories and marvel at his brilliant poems and sketches/drawings.
Zorlone - a new, but fast rising poet and writer has also contributed a number of poems. His poems are highly ranked at Helium.com. He also writes for Triond.com and his blog is gaining readers and visitors at a phenomenal speed (19 followers within a span of less than 3 months). This is because his poems speak from the heart and soul.
And of course, yours truly.
Visit Julia's site, and contribute too, to her Poetry Friday.
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