Sunday, August 28, 2016

The Meanings of My Poems and Camp NaNoWriMo

Hi! Welcome back!
I won Camp NaNoWriMo 2016 July on July 27, 2016 at 7-Eleven. There is a great sense of accomplishment that comes with winning Camp NaNoWriMo so early and while outside my comfort zone.
Thank you to my cabin mates for the helpful tips and encouragement. July was a fun month of exchanging messages of progress with all of you. Hope to see you again somewhere in this publishing world!
 
As for you, people who visit this blog, here are more information about the works that I published for August …
I created “Witness” on October 18, 2014. It’s about the majestic Delfin ancestral house and the admirable Delfins. It’s also about how I have lived with some of the last of those good Delfins.
Delfin is my beloved mother’s maiden name. She is the only sister of my late uncle, Danilo Delfin.
I created “His Name is Earl” on October 20, 2014.
When I saw “Stoker,” I wondered who created it. Because the movie was so uniquely beautiful. I was like, “What’s the name of the writer?”
A year later, I got into the hobby of watching online videos on my smartphone daily after work. It was through this hobby that I learned about “Prison Break.” I became hooked, and couldn’t miss an episode.
Upon finishing all 4 wonderful seasons, I researched on the Internet if there was a 5th season. I visited fan sites and fan pages, chatting with fellow fans. It was through this that I learned that lead actor Wentworth Miller (real name: Wentworth Earl Miller III) was actually the writer of “Stoker.” It’s what inspired the poem.
On a side note, I read on Went’s new Twitter profile that “Prison Break” will be back. How will the story go now that Michael Scofield is dead?
Also, I had been reading about the scandal over the CEO of Fox. I love “Prison Break,” and I wish that it can be moved to another channel …
I created “Thought for Sore Mind” on October 23, 2014.
In my HarvardX course, the wonderful The Ancient Greek Hero, there is this idea that we call, “sema.”
“Sema” is an ancient Greek word for “sign” and “symbol.” In the philosophy of the “Illiad,” the sema is something that you focus on to be the best that you can be.
Life can be full of chaos and it is a huge possibility that many things and people will push you off track. Focusing on your sema will help you do what you want to do. That is the meaning of my poem.
 
Here’s information about my works for NaPoWriMo 2016:
“It Doesn’t End Here” was pure creation.
The optional prompt in the NaPoWriMo site asked us to write poems about fortune cookies. In my whole life, I’ve had only one fortune cookie. It gave me a riddle that I never solved.
These fortune-telling items usually tell beautiful things. That’s why people have loved them through the years. So I decided to create something that sounded like a fortune-telling item. It’s full of positivity and flattery. I made a positive counter to every negative thought that I keep getting, and there was the poem.
Unlike what most of my friends believed, “Target” isn’t about my shooting skills. It’s a metaphor for my feelings while creating it. The optional prompt asked us to create a poem with a certain number of syllables for each line. I found the form very tricky.
And that’s all for this month and thank you very much for dropping by! See you again soon! Good day!
 

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Thought for Sore Mind


Within the land of wolves,
Where they always betray,
Casting shadows like hooves
Of the enemies' fray,
Your face creates a glow
In my heart of sorrow.
 
They may destroy my nights,
Ruin the good in me,
And challenge all my might,
But when you're the one I see,
It calms my soul within,
Keeping me from my sin.
 
I wish I'd be with you,
Even though I don't have a clue
If we can get this through.
 
In a world that's seething
With all mindless evil,
I continue loving.
It's a powerful will,
Inspired by your beauty,
Like a priceless booty.

Sunday, August 14, 2016

His Name is Earl


Who wrote that great story?
It's wonderfully done;
It fills you with worry.
Writing must be not fun
If you make it perfect,
For the plot's full of defects.
 
But we viewers enjoy.
I'd like to know who wrote.
Ideas he employ
Still keep your hopes afloat,
Although someone has died.
The plot remained so wide.
 
And then it just thickens.
Yes, it sure does sicken,
But that is the point when
 
It comes so much better.
So just give me his name.
I will find him later
To learn about this game
Of mind tricks in writing
As I watch here, sitting.

Sunday, August 7, 2016

Witness


Down the drive, there are leaves
That rustle in the breeze.
The long-lost music gives
A way in which I squeeze,
Despite all of the trash
Of the wicked and brash.
 
A travel to the past,
Wherein lies an old place.
Home to the good and just;
They're from the dwindling race.
I don't know why they're gone,
I don't know what they've done.
 
And the leaves make music,
All the tones that I seek
When my memory's weak.
 
They simply disappeared
Without a single trace.
What their enemies feared
Was a witness to face,
To tell the old stories,
And I'm in their worries.