Of Flowers and Bluebirds (or how poems birth)

By Virginia J. Pasalo

 

IN the mornings, during my walks at the UP campus grounds, I take time to talk to flowers for their scents, the birds for their songs, the pavement I walk on for cushioning my feet, the air I breath, the sun’s heat, and everything else that bears on my consciousness. It is at this time that I think some friends who are now walking in more enlightened paths, also make their presence felt, by emitting familiar scents of flowers in the air, without a visible plant to trace where the smell is coming from, or by a familiar voice of a bird, that is clearly identified with moments you spent with a loved one.

Most women ask for specific signs for prayers they have petitioned God for answers, especially when about to do something crucial, like deciding to accept a job offer, buying a property, or marrying someone. Some get quick answers, like a long-time friend, Sr. Mary John Mananzan, who thought of a blue bird as a sign to buy a property in Mendez, Cavite, and when a blue bird showed up, she followed it to where it landed.

I did a similar thing, one morning, without much thought, in the same manner that women ask for signs for certain petitions they pray for. The poem below was inspired by a conversation with a fire tree, as I asked a personal question, and for it to give me an answer by the raining of its petals on me, if the answer to the question is a “yes”. And the petals fell.

RUNNING

05 July 2015 11:23 a.m.

i posed a question
to the fire tree
Yes? or No?

within seconds
it rained flowers on me
in affirmation.

So i ran
in the rain.

and the flowers
ran after me.

Poems are born this way, and in many other ways. There is no warning to it. One just gives birth to it, without much thought, just being, in the moment. It could be a leaf falling, a stone one trips on, a word. When the poem manifests itself, you have no choice but to write, or speak it, as it flows out of the pores of the creative mind.

Some poems are inspired by the poems of other poets and birth themselves as retorts, as in the case of “Diliman Moon” written by Edris Tamano, after reading the poem above:

DILIMAN MOON
5/July/2015

Sitting alone at a solid rock by the lagoon

But the Diliman moon
In golden sheen, it glows in style–
I asked her, “Will you stay awhile?”‘
It seems she’ll fade too soon…
It answers not but the rustling hedges
By a whistling wind
From where stood a mute oblation yonder
I run around the field’s spongy grasses
And Alas! The moon runs with me
In a clear affirmation.
Giving me company in moments of despair.

The poet’s creative energy is spontaneous, and oblivious of any other considerations, which sometimes makes him “explain” himself afterwards to those closest to him, as in the comment of Edris Tamano to the above post:

“There’s not much forethought in my postings as they are retorts to some poems of friends in a site called Poe Tree. I don’t have forethought anyway, just wistful thinking sometimes. MKKK”

To which, his daughter, Edenisa Jehanie Tamano, a poet herself, replied:

“something you have to remember Pa…poets do not explain themselves…
Whether or not to stir something there is …or put forth something there is not …
Whether u cause someone, like in my case, to think wistfully, or , in Marj en Ness’, to reminisce nostalgically…
Lack of forethought = spontaneity
Your mind is fluid. Ma sha Allah.
That’s all it is.”

To most others, it is difficult to understand, much less accept, how a poem can force itself upon the poet’s mind, and this is expressed by another member of Edris Tamano’s son, Zen:

“Nosebleed. I’ll go ahead and karate instead. Lol.”

(For your comments and reactions, please email to: punch.sunday@gmail.com)

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