Monthly Archive: July, 2013

An Open Letter to Bertrand Rodriguez Jr who wrote an open letter to Thomas van Beersum who wrote an open letter to Joselito Sevilla

I applaud you for your patriotism. I can see that, even if geographically you are no longer in the Philippines, there is genuine concern on your part towards the welfare of your countrymen.… Continue reading

By the twin dogs of harbour park

By the twin dogs of harbour park, first dates begin, sweat beads greeting under meticulously gelled hair, stretched across the shaded bench, watching yachts glide across the still Atlantic. Strangers breathing the summer breeze lounge around… Continue reading

The 100 Songs Project: A Postscript

It has been more than a week since the 100 Songs Writing Challenge ended. So many memories of the past one hundred days flew by. This has been, indeed, a great opening for… Continue reading

To the anti-squatters: Let them eat cake!

When the French queen Marie Antoinette was told that due to the increase in taxation the poor had been left starving, unable to buy even a loaf of bread, she had notoriously said,… Continue reading

Over the Rainbow

Do you remember the fantastic? Well, I do. I remember the little boy, sitting at the dining room table, trying his darndest to master cursive writing. He had been taught before that letters… Continue reading

As Time Goes By

9:43am Gudmrning! Hw ws brkfst, hve a good day @ work. 9:45am LOL. cereal isnt a meal 9:47am eggs, bacon, tomato sandwch. mmmmmh 🙂 9:50am yes, it was THAT good. 9:51am i still… Continue reading

Singin’ in the Rain

From afar, you’d be able to hear the patters of loafers as they ran to their doors, newspapers covering their hair. The mustached flower man grumbles as he packs the remaining daisies to… Continue reading

Moon River

both feet stepping on the sharp wet rocks — and six-inch stilletoes tied against the neck — wading the length of the dragon river — mascara pouring down the face to mix with… Continue reading

White Christmas

His postcards always came in, at least a day before its maximum. Together with the rest, what a bundle stacked higher than the bible, and filled with almost as much sorrow. This time,… Continue reading

Mrs. Robinson

“Mrs. Robinson, language, please,” the doctor said. Mrs. Robinson put down her teacup, quite agitated that her sharing of her latest adventures had been cut short. “Why, pardon me, kind sir. I was… Continue reading