I delight watching things from their outset,
I am soothe to see the genesis of things.
They remind me of the child, the curious eyes
Ever sparkling within.
I see beauty in simpleness of anything even at their lowly outset,
For they possess the genuine truth of precious purity.
They remind me of my beginnings
Like the water glorybinds(kangkong) growing wild in the marshes,
They bring back memories of the backyards
Of some houses I lived as a child.
In some quiet afternoons during my untamed moments,
I would sit motionless in a corner facing the swamp in our backyard
Listening to the soothing sounds, the slightest of movements
In the still water at one o’clock
When the world in my young mind
Takes a nap with my mother on her siesta.
I would sneak out of the house through the backdoor
To celebrate the joy of my earliest found solitude
In the company of nature ~
Befriending the dragonflies hovering over my head,
The birds nestling in the reeds,
The snails petiently taking thier journeys from one rock to the next,
While my mind quietly travels to the unknown future
Interrupted by occasional sightings of the gourami
That stir the still water creating tiny ripples on the surface.
But the highlight of the afternoon is the rare sighting of the mudfish(dalag)
Making that splash and swashing sound and wild movements
In the dense growth of the water glorybinds as it swims back to the bushes of reeds,
Where the water of the marshes is knee deep and the herons(tagak) nest.
That magical moment of brief beautiful chaos tickles purest joy of childhood madness.
Cherished memories from my genesis ~
My earliest form of entertainment: my humble version of television,
Or a theatre; watching a movie or a concert ~ my idea of a grand show
Happening in our backyard in an atypic stage, in a silverscreen of water glorybinds
Where the dragonflies, the frogs, the birds, the gourami, the snails, the herons, the mudfish
Are the stars, and I, their sole audience.
The show ends with the voice of my mother calling my name at four o’clock.
That’s when the curtains drop,
The world wakes up,
As I walk back home to the door of my genesis.
Jeques, 2010. From his “Traveler’s Soliloquies poetry collection.
2nd Year of Taming This Tyke’s Voice
August 16, 2009
Jeques Web Nook, Year 2
Today marks the second year of taming my voice as a writer and as an artist in general, in public. My web nook serves as my creative venue where I synthesize life’s inspirations, my journey, random thoughts, dreams, desperations, my share of pains in living, simple joys, bliss, life’s mirths, ponderings ~
My every day celebration for knowing that I breath and my existense is in tune with the universe’s rhymes.
It’s been two years and this nook gifted me with rich produce that I never realized I have inside me, had I not listen closely to the fragile voice that told me stories, recited me poetry, painted my life with colors.
In commemoration with Jeques web nook biennial celebration, I am proud to formally launch my bountiful harvest as an artist in My Art Portfolio. This is the produce from my continuous reconnaissance of my gift.
Follow the tracks of the waif’s journey. And may you whisper a prayer in every turn and trail, for the waif to find his home.
Through my works, I would like to represent the displaced artists in different fields for some reasons, becoming like waifs, that I am, searching for home. I share the sentiments of artists unable to do their arts, caged in the jobs that are far from what their hearts purely desire to do. I aim as an artist to speak to that audience, to inspire them through my works and to make a statement that it is possible. Every art piece I finish is a struggle, but each is a step closer to home. (an excerpt from “Self Portrait Of The Artist In Words” by Jeques. Complete story is found in the last page of the of the portfolio).
PLEASE CLICK IMAGE TO FOLLOW THE TRAILS OF THE WAIF >>>
Jeques’s Web Nook, the corner that opens my heart to the public for reading and viewing is 1 year and a half today. And to celebrate this landmark to my writing life is my 200th post.
I lost count of the number of poetry I posted but it’s over 200.
My favorite remains to be the sonnet poem I wrote: A Walk Around The Oval
Once more I walk the oval track today,
And ponder yet again, “What is my role?”
Am I just making circles every day
In life’s arena, like an errant soul?
I walk around the never ending trail:
A fallen leaf caught in a swirling stream;
Or like an army, ever locked in drill.
I am engrossed and walk in my own dream.
Some strangers share my lane but not my muse.
You’re far, and yet, our thoughts are much the same;
I’m not alone then in the road I choose;
Beyond the oval someone shares my lane.
In you my lonesome soul finds home to stay,
For in my heart you’re near, you’re here with me.
This poem tells so much of myself, the loner that I am, the waif who is at peace with his solitude, forever contemplating his role in this life, ever hopeful finding that one person to share his thoughts, his soul, the other half of his tenacious heart.
I can not be in this life for no reason, there must be something in each moment that I have to take in as I breath, and there must something in me that I could offer as I exhale my soul in anything that I do. Perhaps my poetry, my arts, my thoughts, my memories, the landscape of my mind, the language of my heart, the sweetest juice of my soul is my cotribution that I willingly offer, hoping that somebody would take and breath them into their hearts.
It’s been 200 posts of fresh picks from my fecund heart in many different forms. It is amazing how my web nook became not only a corner for me to display my works, but it had also become my working table to untangle my thoughts, to disect my heart, to trace the map of the alianated corners of my mind, to lay my soul on that table and to try to understand for myself the language that it wanted to speak.
I have told you about the seasons and how they affect me, the country where I came and I call home, about my family, about my dreams.
I shared with you my journeys, my childhood, why I write, the books I read, my artworks, photographs, some produce of my expirements with the lenses.
I laid open my heart writing about love, of fantasied romance, of heartbreaks, of failures and defeats and rejections, of rising, of bouncing back, and of triumphs.
I told you stories about friends, about a singer I admire, about my pets, about my plants and bonsai, about the space I live and its corners.
I wrote about my pen, the paper, the roads, the garden, the pond and it’s inhabitants, I brought you to the places I traveled, about my job, my wishes, and dreams.
I have revealed to you few of my secrets,
I have walked in your presence naked, for in all the 200 posts that I placed here, I wrote them with so much honesty and they are my truth.
After 200 posts, I thought I still have so much to tell, I still have a lot in my notebooks that I have not shared, there are still many thoughts inside my head nugging me to give them life in writing, I still have heap of drafts that need to be finished, my heart streams hasn’t ceased flowing and each drop are stories, and poetry and artworks that is mine to offer.
There are still secrets I keep in my heart, and I know time would make me reveal them.
There are still so much joy and sorrows, and mirths to look forward to.
The seasons will continue their cycles.
I still view life, like a child with his nose pressed up against the window watching the world with wide-eyed wonder of a grown up tyke.
Their are places I still have to travel and see, awaiting like blank canvas beaconing for my brush strokes to give them colors and tangible forms.
Like a clean slate and pristine white pages longing for the ink from my heart that would bring them to life
And give them wings to fly like birds to find their homes to your hearts.
Thank you for reading.
I wish you well.
Coming back to the path
Where I started,
I feel the true bliss
In finding the trails
I left behind
As I slowly
And silently walk forth.
Treading the familiar roads,
Savors the mirth
Which I shared
With many voices
That helped me
Find and distinguish
They are like the rose petals
Like the gentle waves
That take me ashore;
Like canopy of leaves
That protect me
From the scorching
Heat of midday sun;
Like a woolen coat
Lined with soft cotton
To help me survive
The ferocious winter.
Like fragrant mists
Of morning showers
Nourishing a seed;
Caressing the reeds’ blades,
Moistening the velv’ty petals
To bloom ~
By the gentle air
In my ears.
As my thoughts
A Year after,
My love child:
My web nook
Echoes my voice,
The real hearth
Of the tyke,
The true home
Of my heart.
Jeques Web Nook has turned ONE, August 16, 2008.
The poem celebrates the bliss that this corner has given my soul ~
Let me share the mirth with you.
I wish you well.
Clean Slate (Tanka)
By: Jesus B. Jamora
Take off your old skin
Another chance is given.
Start on a clean slate,
Fresh page awaits your pen ~
Your new journey now begins.
What brought me here? I believe in divine providence, that explains my coming here and how I started Jeques’s Web Nook.
Conspiracy Theory (Senryu)
By: Jesus B. Jamora
Conspire for my heart’s desires ~
I created a thread at pinoyexchange.com: http://www.pinoyexchange.com/forums/showthread.php?t=293811. I received some good entries, but my thread became less exciting with the dropping number of readers and contributors, until from nowhere came Totomai http://distillingthoughts.blogspot.com/ expressing his interest on the Haiku which was the form I used to write my pieces: “Scents Of Childhood.” It was a productive exchanges. He got inspired and posted a blog about the Haiku: http://distillingthoughts.blogspot.com/search/label/Haiku and I was encouraged to create my own blog which brought me here. Totomai introduced me to blogging. He pave me the way to start something I always wanted to do. He was instrumental in my creation of my Jeques’s Web Nook, so I could have my own corner to express my thoughts. He brought me here, and I’m forever grateful.
Three months later, and this post, my 100th entry. I have so far posted more than a hundred poems, some of my paintings, my initial attempts on photography, journal entries, essays and random thoughts. I have meet many valuable friends, visited and read many blogs that link me to many new frontiers and possibilities I never thought existed, got inspired and moving forth from here. But I always go back to that incessant vision:
“. . . of me in my mind: standing on the bank of a river, I watch the waters flow, and wonder where the river came, and where life goes. I can only look as far as my eyes can see and my heart can imagine.”
I thank God for giving me a venue to praise Him with my works through my gift that He gave. I thank Totomai for paving the way. I thank all of you who visited, read, left comments in my nook which inspire and encourage me. You became my friend in this new community I’m starting to be familiar with and I’m beginning to enjoy. You play a part in the universal conspiracy that brought me here.
The leaves are like pages, as books are trees.
And I, a leaf in God’s verdant forests `
I’m a single thread on God’s tapestries.
I wish you all well.