MikeLigalig.com

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day,
Just go to a mirror and look at yourself,
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn't your father or mother or wife,
Who judgement upon you must pass;
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one starring back from the glass.

He's the fellow to please, never mind all the rest.
For he's with you clear up to the end,
And you've passed the most dangerous, difficult test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years.
And get pats on the back as you pass,
But your final reward will be the heartaches and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.

- Dale Wimbrow, Copyrighted in 1934

guapo bitaw ang mensahe , noh?

I love it!

Milton once said,

"Rhyme," he says, and says truly, "is no necessary adjunct of true poetry." But, perhaps, of poetry, as a mental operation, metre or music is no necessary adjunct: it is, however, by the music of metre that poetry has been discriminated in all languages; and, in languages melodiously constructed with a due proportion of long and short syllables, metre is sufficient. But one language cannot communicate its rules to another."

Written thoughts that follows a stanza,
a form, and a bit of rhyme, can be a  poem.

Thanks for sharing your view, Isles.

Quote from: hubag bohol on October 27, 2010, 11:49:13 AM
You did? Hmm, but perhaps your answer was in the response? 

hehe, its all relative, kind sir. 

hehehe mao ba? Ka cute kaajo ang gi tawag, "Nanay Doctor" ha ha ha!
Yes, I would love to see you guys. I still cannot believe little Jacob is already so big!

I did not know that there was such a large Filipino medical community in the area, Raquel. Now I know.
Thank You!

hahahaha! Father, next time we are sitting in a table together, I want to sing with you guys in the videoke machine.

PS. Thanks for sharing the San Miguel. pwaahahaha. Testing lang gud oy!

 

Raquel, your family are more than welcome to spend the night in my apartment, as I am staying in residential uptown. A bit pricey ang area, pero, since i will be here for the next 2+ years for clinical rotations , okey lang! hehe. I am excited to show you guys around the area, because the place where i stay is near the lake, and there is a 20+ mile long bike/walking path that is lined with trees ; the sights and places here are amazing. Near the region where I live is a large vietnamese, chinese, filipino and italian, polish community. I guess thats the beauty of Chicago, it being such a metropolis and mixed with so many ethnic cultures, tastes that gives this metropolis an eclectic feel. Clean and urban. Sige! Consider my home your home if you ever come to visit.

I would love to visit your farm; and to appreciate the beauty that is Illinois; the Bread Basket State!

You know, it would be a great decision to practice medicine in this area, too, considering the need of doctors here, and the really great life style; not to say the cost of living is excellent. Oh I bet the doctors you know in the area are really hospitable , Raquel. I know some friends who are doing their veterinary rotations in this region.

hehe!

Father, please pardon my limited knowledge of binisayang bol-anon, but i must ask, what is the meaning of :

1. hingantahon
2. tapok tapok


Salamat Father!

response:


Your rhyme is forced of course,
and your meter could be neater,
but your satire I do admire.

I am both bemused and amused and will claim confused
If, not also somewhat, decidedly, poetically excused.
When I rhyme with prescribed time of thoughts of mine
Why are there those who chime in with the critic’s line?
Of, “Too much form”, or “Poorly born”, or “You need be warned,”
That they would never conform to that which I’ve poetically adorned.

Every stanza must be just so, so they let me know, how a poem should go
And put up quite a show to lift them up and to leave me low
When, if the truth be known, these so called “know-its”, really show it
Because the old famous poets never subscribed to their “you must do-its!”
Poe’s was not Whitman’s style, and Ogden Nash’s short wiles, fill files
And Tennyson’s “Light Charge,” riles those who hate stanza miles.

So, I choose to lose those who refuse to honor my muse
And excuse those, who through ignorance, ego bruise
With pen in hand, and mind in ink, I think, to link
My imagined brink and write envisioned words in sync
To release this stuff, no matter how tough I am rebuffed
By those who know, just enough to share the critic’s bluff.

Bugsay, how did you like Vietnam? How was the pho ?

Quote from: Raquelproud boholana on October 27, 2010, 10:34:38 AM
Bootan jud bitaw kaayo ang mga bol anon.

hehe, buotan bitaw jud, even when the bol-anon is being abused, sneered at, dili lang mo tubag, mag hilom hilom lang.
pero ug mo tubag na jud, na, makahibalo ang ubang tawo nga bol-anon jud.

Bol-anon are fierce fighters, loyalists, and persistent beyond a doubt. Persistent jud kaajo.

hahaha! Raquel, speaking of farm, I am in Chicago baya! Naa ko diri sa Uptown area, serving in Jackson Park Hospital and LA Weiss Hospital.
Pwede ba mo bisita ko sa imong hacienda during vacay time? hehe!
Mag EB ta!


On your statement tho, a farmer's daughter is quite hard to come by here in the Windy City. But I must say, i must say , indeed, driving past the vast acreage of Indiana, Ohio, Eastern Illinois truly allowed me to appreciate the 'beauty' of the Bread Basket. hehe!


It is truly a different setting compared to Suburbian Southern New Jersey; or the urbanized lifestyle in Chicago.

Raquel,

This sense of 'wanting more' is quite contemplating. One can't help but ask, 'when is it ever enough?'.
Good message, Raquel, a humbling one at that.


Lorenzo.

Quote from: islander on October 27, 2010, 10:44:27 AM
lorenzo/islander:

Of course we are allowed to partake of the dinner table, whoever does not allow another brother to partake, should be ashamed.

i will forbid a good friend to partake of a feast, or beg him at least to be discriminating in choosing which food to eat, when i know beforehand that some of the food, spoiled as they are, may cause botulism.
 
Practice makes perfect, the beginner poets can one day be great poets, and besides, in my personal point of view, there is so much 'juice' and 'internal dialogue' that is expressed in the poems of many a lover-poets, hating-poets, sad-poets, happy-poets (the whole echelon, hehe).

a lifetime of practice could not make a poet out of a non-poet.  it may improve one's grammar and add to one's vocabulary, but it won't change his sensibilities or his quality of work.

I used to talk to a good friend of mine, who was an English Lit. major, i was the non-traditional student (in the sense) to the class due to my background & strength in the Biological Sciences & History. In fact, another classmate I had , John, was a physics major. The both of us were the only two men to take that class and incidentally the two of us were the only non-english lit majors taking the class (we were taking it as an elective requirement). There was an assignment where our professor wanted us to analyze a classic poem; and then to write a poem and read to the class. The secondary assignment was for us, after reading and reciting the poem in class, to explain and identify the figurative languages used, the meaning and our own personal story that was used to write the poem (or an experience involved).

your class went through the usual process of poetry appreciation by letting you experience the process of creating poetry, which any self-respecting creative writing teacher ought to do.  if one of you became a poet in the real sense of the word (not just an interested one who loves to compose lines that sound poetic), then your teacher deserved all the accolades for opening those previously hidden springs and letting the creative waters pour forth.  as he was able to encourage the likes of you to pay attention to poetry, then he had not taught in vain.

Sitting in the classroom listening to the students, many of whom were great orators, great linguists, some of them were beginners (there were underclassmen also taking this course), i developed a love, an interest for poetry. Doesn't have to be a master poet, can be a beginner poet, can even be a 'bad poet', but a poet none-theless. The appreciation on my part is not so much on the writing style; as there are multiple styles in poetry, but more so on the message being expressed. The raw emotional feelings , sensations that are expressed reminds us of old burns, recent burns, old passions, recent passions, and even for some---a sense of longing that one has never experienced.

So that said, let the poets (masters, intermediate, beginners, and even the 'not so good') share their thoughts. Let them.

they should.  their works may even end up in hallmark cards.  but confound it, let the passage of years put them in the pantheon of poets.  it is not for them to call themselves poets.

There is beauty and humanism in poetry. Besides, many of the now-famous, now-accepted poets were once unaccepted and shunned during their own times.

as most poets were, and are.  sometimes, the opposite even happens.  compared to his wife elizabeth barrett browning, robert browning was considered a minor poet during the victorian period of his lifetime.  it was only in the 1960s that his works were taken more seriously, which turned out to be consistently sinewy.  it's his wife now who is deemed as the "lesser god".  as i've said earlier, people can write poetry or what passes off as poetry all they can, but rarely would a real poet rise from among them.

Arthur Rimbaud , a French poet, best expounds on this:

A poet makes himself a visionary through a long, boundless, and systematized disorganization of all the senses. All forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself, he exhausts within himself all poisons, and preserves their quintessences. Unspeakable torment, where he will need the greatest faith, a superhuman strength, where he becomes all men: the great invalid, the great criminal, the great accursed—and the Supreme Scientist! For he attains the unknown! Because he has cultivated his soul, already rich, more than anyone! He attains the unknown, and, if demented, he finally loses the understanding of his visions, he will at least have seen them! So what if he is destroyed in his ecstatic flight through things unheard of, unnameable: other horrible workers will come; they will begin at the horizons where the first one has fallen!

as in everything else, some do fall by the wayside, poets or not.  but there will always be others who will pick up from where someone had left off.  rimbaud himself, a prodigy, wrote all of his best poetry in less than five years while others took a lifetime.  he had what it took to be a poet that some should not pretend to have.

Isles, but of course. As always, your input and your message is well appreciated. An exchange of thoughts, an exchange in appreciation of poetry, and poets (even the not so good; the beginners).

That said, I still encourage the poets out there (the good, and what some would say, 'the bad') to continue to share their written thoughts.

Great poets care not what the critics say, but what the heart speaks. 

Of course I did, my response was in the answer.

Quote from: hubag bohol on October 27, 2010, 10:20:19 AM
If I did, I'm sure he would have told me that I didn't get his point at all.

Its fine, you have the right (any student) to stand up and disagree to the professor. A professor is not a god.

Quote from: luckybelle on October 27, 2010, 10:13:17 AM
50 hectares planted with coconut is worth 800,000- 1M Php, plus maintenance, plus seedlings for new plants, plus animal stocks for animal raising...
hmmm.... di tanto dako

Dako bitaw ni, pero, with proper land management, and maintenance, and ample productivity, the gains will offset the costs.

Land Owning is a good investment plan, imho.

Salamat, Belle. The beauty of owning a hacienda, from my experience in visiting around the basaks in Valencia and in around Northern Bohol as well is that one never has to worry about a lack of food, or income, because it is a renewable resource. Land is wealth.

Lami pood if one has a hacienda as large as 50+ hectares so one can plant and grow rice, maize, sugar cane, and the lot.

If I may say, that kind of a stark comment from a teacher, Hubag, is an example of an elitist , pretentious attitude. And in many cases, the one making condescending crass remarks on others, are usually the ones that best display the very remarks given. You should have told the teacher that just because a 'perfume, cologne' is "mahal", that does not usually mean it smells good. Gucci colognes are quite pricey, but are not as favorable-y pleasing as compared to Calvin Klein's "Euphoria" or Armani's "Aqua di Gio".

Ingon pood ahong maestro (of course this was in english): ang humut lami sa usa ka tawo, baho sa usa ka tawo. [Another man's trash, is another man's treasure.]

Everything is relative.

-By: Samuel Taylor Coleridge


A green and silent spot, amid the hills,
A small and silent dell ! O'er stiller place
No singing sky-lark ever poised himself.
The hills are heathy, save that swelling slope,
Which hath a gay and gorgeous covering on,
All golden with the never-bloomless furze,
Which now blooms most profusely : but the dell,
Bathed by the mist, is fresh and delicate
As vernal corn-field, or the unripe flax,
When, through its half-transparent stalks, at eve,
The level sunshine glimmers with green light.
Oh ! 'tis a quiet spirit-healing nook !
Which all, methinks, would love ; but chiefly he,
The humble man, who, in his youthful years,
Knew just so much of folly, as had made
His early manhood more securely wise !
Here he might lie on fern or withered heath,
While from the singing lark (that sings unseen
The minstrelsy that solitude loves best),
And from the sun, and from the breezy air,
Sweet influences trembled o'er his frame ;
And he, with many feelings, many thoughts,
Made up a meditative joy, and found
Religious meanings in the forms of Nature !
And so, his senses gradually wrapt
In a half sleep, he dreams of better worlds,
And dreaming hears thee still, O singing lark,
That singest like an angel in the clouds !
My God ! it is a melancholy thing

For such a man, who would full fain preserve
His soul in calmness, yet perforce must feel
For all his human brethren--O my God !
It weighs upon the heart, that he must think
What uproar and what strife may now be stirring
This way or that way o'er these silent hills--
Invasion, and the thunder and the shout,
And all the crash of onset ; fear and rage,
And undetermined conflict--even now,
Even now, perchance, and in his native isle :
Carnage and groans beneath this blessed sun !
We have offended, Oh ! my countrymen !
We have offended very grievously,
And been most tyrannous. From east to west
A groan of accusation pierces Heaven !
The wretched plead against us ; multitudes
Countless and vehement, the sons of God,
Our brethren ! Like a cloud that travels on,
Steamed up from Cairo's swamps of pestilence,
Even so, my countrymen ! have we gone forth
And borne to distant tribes slavery and pangs,
And, deadlier far, our vices, whose deep taint
With slow perdition murders the whole man,
His body and his soul ! Meanwhile, at home,
All individual dignity and power
Engulfed in Courts, Committees, Institutions,
Associations and Societies,
A vain, speach-mouthing, speech-reporting Guild,
One Benefit-Club for mutual flattery,
We have drunk up, demure as at a grace,
Pollutions from the brimming cup of wealth ;
Contemptuous of all honourable rule,
Yet bartering freedom and the poor man's life
For gold, as at a market ! The sweet words
Of Christian promise, words that even yet
Might stem destruction, were they wisely preached,
Are muttered o'er by men, whose tones proclaim
How flat and wearisome they feel their trade :
Rank scoffers some, but most too indolent
To deem them falsehoods or to know their truth.
Oh ! blasphemous ! the Book of Life is made
A superstitious instrument, on which
We gabble o'er the oaths we mean to break ;
For all must swear--all and in every place,
College and wharf, council and justice-court ;
All, all must swear, the briber and the bribed,
Merchant and lawyer, senator and priest,
The rich, the poor, the old man and the young ;
All, all make up one scheme of perjury,
That faith doth reel ; the very name of God
Sounds like a juggler's charm ; and, bold with joy,
Forth from his dark and lonely hiding-place,
(Portentious sight !) the owlet Atheism,
Sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon,
Drops his blue-fringéd lids, and holds them close,
And hooting at the glorious sun in Heaven,
Cries out, `Where is it ?'
Thankless too for peace,

(Peace long preserved by fleets and perilous seas)
Secure from actual warfare, we have loved
To swell the war-whoop, passionate for war !
Alas ! for ages ignorant of all
Its ghastlier workings, (famine or blue plague,
Battle, or siege, or flight through wintry snows,)
We, this whole people, have been clamorous
For war and bloodshed ; animating sports,
The which we pay for as a thing to talk of,
Spectators and not combatants ! No guess
Anticipative of a wrong unfelt,
No speculation on contingency,
However dim and vague, too vague and dim
To yield a justifying cause ; and forth,
(Stuffed out with big preamble, holy names,
And adjurations of the God in Heaven,)
We send our mandates for the certain death
Of thousands and ten thousands ! Boys and girls,
And women, that would groan to see a child
Pull off an insect's wing, all read of war,
The best amusement for our morning meal !
The poor wretch, who has learnt his only prayers
From curses, and who knows scarcely words enough
To ask a blessing from his Heavenly Father,
Becomes a fluent phraseman, absolute
And technical in victories and defeats,
And all our dainty terms for fratricide ;
Terms which we trundle smoothly o'er our tongues
Like mere abstractions, empty sounds to which
We join no feeling and attach no form !
As if the soldier died without a wound ;
As if the fibres of this godlike frame
Were gored without a pang ; as if the wretch,
Who fell in battle, doing bloody deeds,
Passed off to Heaven, translated and not killed ;
As though he had no wife to pine for him,
No God to judge him ! Therefore, evil days
Are coming on us, O my countrymen !
And what if all-avenging Providence,
Strong and retributive, should make us know
The meaning of our words, force us to feel
The desolation and the agony
Of our fierce doings ?
Spare us yet awhile,

Father and God ! O ! spare us yet awhile !
Oh ! let not English women drag their flight
Fainting beneath the burthen of their babes,
Of the sweet infants, that but yesterday
Laughed at the breast ! Sons, brothers, husbands, all
Who ever gazed with fondness on the forms
Which grew up with you round the same fire-side,
And all who ever heard the sabbath-bells
Without the infidel's scorn, make yourselves pure !
Stand forth ! be men ! repel an impious foe,
Impious and false, a light yet cruel race,
Who laugh away all virtue, mingling mirth
With deeds of murder ; and still promising
Freedom, themselves too sensual to be free,
Poison life's amities, and cheat the heart
Of faith and quiet hope, and all that soothes,
And all that lifts the spirit ! Stand we forth ;
Render them back upon the insulted ocean,
And let them toss as idly on its waves
As the vile sea-weed, which some mountain-blast
Swept from our shores ! And oh ! may we return
Not with a drunken triumph, but with fear,
Repenting of the wrongs with which we stung
So fierce a foe to frenzy !
I have told,

O Britons ! O my brethren ! I have told
Most bitter truth, but without bitterness.
Nor deem my zeal or factious or mistimed ;
For never can true courage dwell with them,
Who, playing tricks with conscience, dare not look
At their own vices. We have been too long
Dupes of a deep delusion ! Some, belike,
Groaning with restless enmity, expect
All change from change of constituted power ;
As if a Government had been a robe,
On which our vice and wretchedness were tagged
Like fancy-points and fringes, with the robe
Pulled off at pleasure. Fondly these attach
A radical causation to a few
Poor drudges of chastising Providence,
Who borrow all their hues and qualities
From our own folly and rank wickedness,
Which gave them birth and nursed them. Others, meanwhile,
Dote with a mad idolatry ; and all
Who will not fall before their images,
And yield them worship, they are enemies
Even of their country !
Such have I been deemed--

But, O dear Britain ! O my Mother Isle !
Needs must thou prove a name most dear and holy
To me, a son, a brother, and a friend,
A husband, and a father ! who revere
All bonds of natural love, and find them all
Within the limits of thy rocky shores.
O native Britain ! O my Mother Isle !
How shouldst thou prove aught else but dear and holy
To me, who from thy lakes and mountain-hills,
Thy clouds, thy quiet dales, thy rocks and seas,
Have drunk in all my intellectual life,
All sweet sensations, all ennobling thoughts,
All adoration of God in nature,
All lovely and all honourable things,
Whatever makes this mortal spirit feel
The joy and greatness of its future being ?
There lives nor form nor feeling in my soul
Unborrowed from my country ! O divine
And beauteous island ! thou hast been my sole
And most magnificent temple, in the which
I walk with awe, and sing my stately songs,
Loving the God that made me !--
May my fears,

My filial fears, be vain ! and may the vaunts
And menace of the vengeful enemy
Pass like the gust, that roared and died away
In the distant tree : which heard, and only heard
In this low dell, bowed not the delicate grass.
But now the gentle dew-fall sends abroad

The fruit-like perfume of the golden furze :
The light has left the summit of the hill,
Though still a sunny gleam lies beautiful,
Aslant the ivied beacon. Now farewell,
Farewell, awhile, O soft and silent spot !
On the green sheep-track, up the heathy hill,
Homeward I wind my way ; and lo ! recalled
From bodings that have well-nigh wearied me,
I find myself upon the brow, and pause
Startled ! And after lonely sojourning
In such a quiet and surrounded nook,
This burst of prospect, here the shadowy main,
Dim tinted, there the mighty majesty
Of that huge amphitheatre of rich
And elmy fields, seems like society--
Conversing with the mind, and giving it
A livelier impulse and a dance of thought !
And now, belovéd Stowey ! I behold
Thy church-tower, and, methinks, the four huge elms
Clustering, which mark the mansion of my friend ;
And close behind them, hidden from my view,
Is my own lowly cottage, where my babe
And my babe's mother dwell in peace ! With light
And quickened footsteps thitherward I tend,
Remembering thee, O green and silent dell !
And grateful, that by nature's quietness
And solitary musings, all my heart
Is softened, and made worthy to indulge
Love, and the thoughts that yearn for human kind.

Only he knows the bitterness of love

Who has deeply felt its pangs.

When you are in trouble

No one comes near you:

When fortune smiles.

All come to share the joy.

Love shows no external wound.

But the pain pervades every pore

Devotee Mira offers her body

As a sacrifice to Giridhara for ever.


- Mirabai

Quote from: islander on October 27, 2010, 06:42:38 AM
we partake of the feast at the table as we must, to honor the invitation, though we cannot take much more than we could chew.  we spit out the victuals that are tasteless, indigestible or, heaven forbid, even poisonous.

Of course we are allowed to partake of the dinner table, whoever does not allow another brother to partake, should be ashamed. Practice makes perfect, the beginner poets can one day be great poets, and besides, in my personal point of view, there is so much 'juice' and 'internal dialogue' that is expressed in the poems of many a lover-poets, hating-poets, sad-poets, happy-poets (the whole echelon, hehe).

I used to talk to a good friend of mine, who was an English Lit. major, i was the non-traditional student (in the sense) to the class due to my background & strength in the Biological Sciences & History. In fact, another classmate I had , John, was a physics major. The both of us were the only two men to take that class and incidentally the two of us were the only non-english lit majors taking the class (we were taking it as an elective requirement). There was an assignment where our professor wanted us to analyze a classic poem; and then to write a poem and read to the class. The secondary assignment was for us, after reading and reciting the poem in class, to explain and identify the figurative languages used, the meaning and our own personal story that was used to write the poem (or an experience involved).

Sitting in the classroom listening to the students, many of whom were great orators, great linguists, some of them were beginners (there were underclassmen also taking this course), i developed a love, an interest for poetry. Doesn't have to be a master poet, can be a beginner poet, can even be a 'bad poet', but a poet none-theless. The appreciation on my part is not so much on the writing style; as there are multiple styles in poetry, but more so on the message being expressed. The raw emotional feelings , sensations that are expressed reminds us of old burns, recent burns, old passions, recent passions, and even for some---a sense of longing that one has never experienced.

So that said, let the poets (masters, intermediate, beginners, and even the 'not so good') share their thoughts. Let them.

There is beauty and humanism in poetry. Besides, many of the now-famous, now-accepted poets were once unaccepted and shunned during their own times.

Arthur Rimbaud , a French poet, best expounds on this:

A poet makes himself a visionary through a long, boundless, and systematized disorganization of all the senses. All forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself, he exhausts within himself all poisons, and preserves their quintessences. Unspeakable torment, where he will need the greatest faith, a superhuman strength, where he becomes all men: the great invalid, the great criminal, the great accursedâ€"and the Supreme Scientist! For he attains the unknown! Because he has cultivated his soul, already rich, more than anyone! He attains the unknown, and, if demented, he finally loses the understanding of his visions, he will at least have seen them! So what if he is destroyed in his ecstatic flight through things unheard of, unnameable: other horrible workers will come; they will begin at the horizons where the first one has fallen!

Mr. Ben, thank you for sharing this with all of us.

Ms. V and Manay have two credible points. I guess in the end, the parent or guardian , is the one that chooses if this is profitable for the student. There are some instances were students best learn by themselves , especially in cases where parents home school students. Home schooling children can take advantage of an additional virtual classroom so as to add to what was taught by the parent.

There are instances of slight autism and children who have add (attention deficit disorder) and adhd (attention deficit hyperactive disorder) that can best profit from a classroom like this, if agreed upon by the parent & the medical provider, as it mitigates the possibility of learning abrasion & hindrance.

Manay did make a point that online classrooms and graduate programs are valid for college, & graduate level, particularly true for individuals who are non-traditional students (working parents, late-students etc) that need space for academic work , but at the same time expected to complete all academic directives & material as reiterated in the class syllabus. The progression of extending this kind of learning setting to the elementary, middle school and high school level is something to be talked about, as it is non-traditional in format. But then again, so was the notion of 'online schools' in the beginning, but ever since the success of such programs, many workers have advanced in the work place, due to the proficiency and legitimacy of such online virtual schools.

One of the best lines in this poem,

"Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit,
It’s when things seem the worst that you must not quit."

Quote from: Ms. V on October 26, 2010, 07:45:44 AM
Thanks so much Lorenzo.....
I just would like to uplift what the new educational system supposedly be adhered in the Philippines.

Being in a four-walled educational classroom is a traditional and conventional which in a matter of time will be out of synch....
I mean....this is what the future of education is all about.....

The distance learning.....

Absolutely, Ms. V.

I have a friend who is currently attending graduate school (Capella University) for his Ph.D in Economics; work is done online. This provides him the ability to focus on work , and at the same time to do academic work and studies at the ease of home and at the office.

Times are changing. The Informational Super highway has provided such advancements in academics.

Quote from: loloy on October 26, 2010, 09:28:36 AM
Creative Writing is my bachelor's degree, so, as expected, here's my list.


Current Reads

1. Three: Other Voices, Other Rooms, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Music for Chameleons by Truman Capote
2. The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield
3. The Queen’s Throat: Opera, Homosexuality, and the Mystery of Desire by Wayne Koestenbaum
4. Bad Haircut by Tom Perrotta

Gay/Lesbian-themed Novels

1. Dancer from the Dance by Andrew Holleran*
2. Three Junes by Julia Glass
3. The Swimming Pool Library by Alan Hollinghurst*
4. A Boy’s Own Story by Edmund White
5. My Father and Myself by J.R. Ackerley*
6. Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin
7. Living Upstairs by Joseph Hansen
8. The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst

Humor

1. Lake Wobegon: Summer 1956 by Garrison Keillor
2. The Taming of the Screw by Dave Barry
3. Bad Habits by Dave Barry*

Romance

1. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
2. Love Invents Us by Amy Bloom
3. The Awakening by Kate Chopin
4. They Whisper by Robert Olen Butler
5. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte*
6. Elegy for Iris by John Bailey
7. Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger*
8. We Think The World of You by JR Ackerley
9. M. Butterfly by David Henry Hwang*
10. The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers*
11. Martin Dressler: The Tale of an American Dreamer by Steven Millhauser
12. Cast in Doubt by Lynne Tillman

Coming-of-Age

1. Black Boy by Richard Wright
2. American Childhood by Annie Dillard*
3. China Boy by Gus Lee

Family Portraits

1. House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros
2. Obasan by Joy Kogawa*
3. The Rehearsal by Sarah Willis
4. How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accent by Julia Alvarez
5. We are still Married by Garrison Keillor
6. The Shipping News by E. Annie Proulx*
7. Goodbye to the Buttermilk Sky by Julia Oliver
8. Stones for Ibarra by Harriet Doerr
8. Mr. Potter by Jamaica Kincaid*

Adventures

1. West with the Night by Beryl Markham
2. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard
3. In America by Susan Sontag

Creative Non-Fiction

1. My Brother by Jamaica Kincaid*
2. The Portrait of a Marriage by Nigel Nicolson
3. The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin*
4. Life Under the Leaky Roof by David Owen*
5. Something to Declare by Julia Alvarez*

Short Story Collections

1. Tiger in the Grass by Harriet Doerr*
2. Follies by Anne Beattie
3. The Things They Carried by Tim O’brien
4. A Good Scent from a Strange Mountain by Robert Olen Butler*
5. Women Loving by Jhoanna Lynn Cruz*
6. Revenge of the Lawn by Richard Brautigan
7. Living Up the Street by Gary Soto*
8. Dance of the Happy Shades by Alice Munro

Poetry Collections

1. A Night Without Armor by Jewel
2. Black Wings & Blind Angels by Sapphire
3. Sunflower by Tita Lacambra-Ayala*
4. From the Skin In by Mary Connell

Other Writings

1. Women and Bisexuality by Sue George
2. Immortal Acts: The Life of a Lesbian Nun in Renaissance Italy by Judith C. Brown
3. The Practical Stylist by Sheridan Baker
4. Getting Real: An Introduction to the Practice of Poetry by Gemino Abad*
5. Ladlad 2: An Anthology of Philippine Gay Writing edited by J. Neil Garcia and Danton Remoto
6. Conversation with Truman Capote by Lawrence Grobel*
7. Sex, Art and American Culture by Camille Paglia*
8. Nearly Roadkill: An Infobahn Erotic Adventure by Kate Borstein and Caitlin Sullivan

(*) favorite books

You have a great collection of read books, Loy. How was 'Tiger In The Grass'?

Quote from: luckybelle on October 26, 2010, 06:04:53 AM
Y? Interested?

I wonder how much it would cost to own say, 30-50 hectares of fertile farm land.

Absolutely Manay.

I was in Alona beach, alona tropical and the many beach resorts in bohol. Its quite saddening to see that these booming and lucrative tourism spots are owned, and managed by foreigners and the workers are bolanons.

It would be nice to see bolanons owning and running resorts like these.

hehe, i like the idea of owning a vast amount of fertile land and producing rice, corn, sugar cane, and growing other kinds of vegetables.

Quote from: islander on October 26, 2010, 06:58:26 PM
sorry, lorenz, but i beg to disagree.  the beauty of poetry is that not anyone, not everyone, can write poetry.  anyone can attempt to write poetry, though, but not everyone ends up with a poem worthy of the term, much less end up as poets. 

we all can paint a blank wall, but we cannot be all artists.  we can dance, why not, but not everyone has the grace or the stamina to become a dancer. 

we all can pick up a microphone and sing in a videoke, and the irritation caused by such kind of singing by some of us had become legendary, it had led to murder. 

which reminds me, anyone can dream of becoming a doctor, but not everyone has the aptitude and diligence to rise to the rigors of medical studies.
     

Point taken, Isles.

Poetry is a mix of figurative language combined, its  an intricate pattern of words placed together in such a way to convey a deep and powerful message to the world; the level of excellence depends on the writer's mastery.

My old English Literature professor, Dr. Kirkpatrick used to say, "anyone can be a poet, but not everyone can be a god-damn good poet." (this of course was said to reinforce the importance of English figurative language, symbolism etc.

i love to read poetry from the masters, the students, the beginner poets etc. Poetry, in my view, is like a feast on the table, we all should be encouraged to write poems (if the person is willing) and appreciate the poem despite the skill and status of the writer. Its okay if it isn't similar to Shelley's, Byron's, Bronte, and the like. The appreciation of poetry, and the poem, is the appreciation of the passion and the message within the poem.

Quote from: cujo on October 26, 2010, 09:52:03 PM
A poet is born,not made.
[poeta nascitur,non fit] -ANON [ old latin phrase ]

for sure, for sure.
there are some cynical poets, passionate poets, even angry poets.
i take kindly to the passionate ones. Shelley for example, is a personal favorite.

i learned something new today.

shallan.

There by and by the mount of efraim lived the man named eserbidigus,
old eserbidigus was a disdainful old man,
easily ambiguous , prudently reproaching to the youth about,
oh but let me not continue in such distaste,
nay, let me sing a deeper tune.




-Anonymous

pray may i ask, belle, disclose kindly to kind Lorenz the meaning of the colloquial 'Shallan'?
i do not know this word.






with kind regards,

the beauty of poetry is that anyone, i mean anyone, can write a poem.

The uniqueness of individual poetry is -- that very individual flair is the basis of poetic license; varied, eclectic styles of poets allows poetry to be...so universal yet at the same time individualistic.

The verbalization of inner passions, thoughts made into words,..

 unsa man diay imong mensahe, Belle?

Hehehe fish tinola ug kinilaw sa side. lami. yum.

good point, good point ray.

the level of success one has , as we are taught in medical training (surprising how even doctors are now thinking business-like nowadays in 'states), is that the key to success is to : network, network, and network.

Networking with friends who work in hedge funds, investment firms, and loaning agencies can provide the proper and necessary capital to start / leap frog a struggling company/ LLC into one that can best target the market.

Ingenuity plays a role, as you said it, ray, but key to anything is networking. Like myself, i am already networked with 4 other medical interns, as we plan in starting a medical practice together. A multi-specialty medical firm.

Word of advice to those who want to succeed in business:
network, network, and network. Don't be afraid to put your nose into areas that you once might have been hesitant to..business, in general, is all about gambling and taking calculated risks.



Cheers! Advance!

bitaw noh. daghan naman nang 1000 euro; 60k pesos a month is doable. Mag spend wisely lang gud, dili ipa hatag-hatag tanan.

Ang key jud ani, in regards to this thread follows the basics of business. Spend less than what you make, and you can save.

Save enough, invest wisely enough, then...maginansya pood. hehe

So, how does one become a haciendero?

hahaha J2 or JJ diay ilang nickname ani.

bisan dili millionaryo, ku an na lang gud, pensionador na lang. basta naa'y stable income sa retirement age. okey na lang..

tsk tsk, kaluoy pood intawn.

dili na diay jolly bee, murag Jolly Pig na diay. 

That's true, Bohol should open an SM store as well.

Ubay, imho, would be a great place to start building a 2nd city..

hehehe if they pay me 1 million pesos. So mag millionaryo pood ta. 

hehe mao.

Bai Ray, thank you for that correction. Now I know.

Hahaha kujawa oy. chicharon para ni chicogon! pa ha ha ha ha!  

Father, intawn, ako, wa ko ka kaun kai ning take ko ug vaccination sa Hep B. ug PPD test (Hospital regulation)

Quote from: ruth on October 21, 2010, 11:23:09 PM
Id like to say hi to all members on this site... i welcome myself here hehehe... thanx to kuya fro.

hope to meet good people and exchange good ideas... im very proud being a boholana...

kmusta mga sano ug sana?

Ruth, welcome to Tubag Bohol Dot Com.
Buckle Up. Enjoy the Ride.

Truth:


When I went to Bohol, every sunday my aunts , or the women in the house would always say, "Ta, ondoy, adto ta sa simbahan , mag ampo ta tagaan ta grasya sa Ginoo..."


That kind of saying is rare and non-existent in the United States, nowadays. Such a religious and faithful statement will always etch in my heart as an innate character of the Bolanon: maginoo, ma hadlok sa Ginoo..

hehehe. Bohol is truly Beautiful!

Ay ay, ang kinabuhing bukid!

MAX SURBAN - Kinabuhing Bukid

Quote from: chicogon on October 25, 2010, 11:22:30 PM
Sige pod ko kadungog ani, basta naay mag rosaryo o mag-ampo sa simbahan...

Maghimaya ka Maria, napuno ka sa grasya
Ang Ginoo maanaa kanimo
Bol-anon ka sa tanan... ug Bol-anon usab ang bunga sa tiyan mo nga si Hesus."

I hope God has a great sense of humor, too!!! 

hehehe!

when i was in Bohol, i was really amazed how very 'maginoo' the people are, especially the older generation. Even the younger generation.

Every phrase or sentence ends with a "Pohon, Maluuy ang Ginoo.."
My lolo said to me the night i left Bohol on August 14, 2010, "Ang Ginoo naa nimo, Ang Ginoo naa nako..." , "ikaw ondoy, pag ampo kanunay..."

Hehehe, dili tanan bol-anon mag buutan or maginoo, kahibalo ko uban nga bastoson, pabinuang sa kauban, pero, in general lang, most Bolanons are really honest, frank, and sincere people.

Quote from: vrglguapo on October 25, 2010, 04:12:33 PM
Speaking of stereotypes of Bol-anons ..Did you hear the song about the Bol anon...listen and enjoy..

Edilberto Mascariñas Batausa MUSIC VIDEO 3 "Ang Kaugmaon ni Ondo"

hehehe i like it!

Bitaw noh, ingon sila kono nga buutan gayud ang bolanon. Even when he is abused, buutan kaayo, mag hilom hilom lang.

Max Surban - Bol-anon

Quote from: jorgeanna on October 25, 2010, 03:16:44 PM
ija-ija.. aho-aho.. i often hear this from people that i have met throughout the years who are not Boholanos. i really dont know the history behind this for in my observation, Boholanos are very mangihatagon .. for example: magbahaw-bahaw sa silingan

im interested in knowing the history of this bol-anon proverb.
perhaps the masters of binisayang bol-anon will help us?

(inspired by Virgil's thread)

Are you currently investing in Bohol's economic growth?
Share your view.

hehe, your thread truly is ingenious. I remembered how much potential there is in Bohol. Potential to make money, and potential to contribute to the local economy in the province. A symbiotic relationship.

Stable , secured income is worth more than all the talks in the world.

To be a millionaire, one must show prudence, vigilance (in knowing where to invest and not), fiscal conservatism (do not spend gregariously..when not needed).

If I were based in the Philippines, Virgil, I would invest in real-estate. Buy homes, apartments, and cater to the student population.

Tagbilaran, just from my observation this summer, has become a large educational hub. Providing homes for students would be an excellent way to generate renewable income. To maintain and preserve the income, i would also invest in security guards.

Network your company. Display cards, and signs about your safe, affordable, housing units for students.

Another one would be the creation of a security guard firm. Considering the rising theft situations in Bohol, it would be opportune for someone with capital (liquid asset) to start a security firm considering the growing businesses in Bohol and the stagnation of the Bohol Police.

When I went to the Police station in bohol to report a theft, i found out that there are less than 100 police officers in the entire city of Tagbilaran. A city with a population of almost 100,000 people has less than 100 police units to patrol all sectors.

This makes a security guard firm most attractive and lucrative.

Expect more businesses to rise as the economy and foreigner displacement continues in earnest.

The key to this is getting to know political members, so as to safeguard your company and meet key foreign firms.

The time to invest in the Philippines is NOW.

Indeed, Metrobank is reliable.

Ah , the beauty of capitalism!

I know of a Filipino doctor who has a Visiting Physicians Firm , where he employs doctors to do visiting rounds. The company, in effect, is a medical agency that employs doctors. The owner of this Visiting Physicians Firm petitions Filipino Doctors from the Philippines and employs them specifically.

This man is ingenious, and is taking advantage of the American Medicare, American Medicaid System.
His Firm is practically specialized in geriatric medical care, and general medical care, which is fine since that it the major source of insurance coverage.

Modesty aside, his company grosses over $100 million a year.

Again, liquid capital is necessary to start something like this; a medical agency company.

This is where the money is.

Strategically speaking,

the Philippines' economy is booming hot. The tourism sector is compounding by the year; even Boracay is getting competition from the likes of Bohol, Camuigin, Cebu, Southern Leyte, Palawaan etc.

Land, unlike many other things, is constant. The wise thing to do now, if one has liquid capital for investment, would be to set up shop in the tourism sector.

For those that have a considerable land, i would even say trying to planting corn and market, network yourself with American and foreign businessmen in the natural resource sector ; and promote yourself and your company as being an 'eco-friendly' company. Corn-oil and the like are new sources of interest in many natural resource companies; and could warrant in investment opportunities.

Consider the Japanese, who have recently given the Philippines $1 million to start the contractory plans in wind farms, as a form of renewable energy.

```

The Philippines, and its many sectors are receiving investment from abroad, especially considering it is a hot emerging market locale.
The IT sector in the Philippines is proof of this.
Educational facilities and programs could be a point of interest (taking advantage of the inherent Filipino strengths in the English language).

Ah yes, in that sense, then you have a point, Virgil.

Pero for me, the cost of living in the Philippines is rising. A millionaire in the Philippines can become destitute quite easily if his spending more than what he makes. And I see alot of this going around; rich one day, then poor the next.

To be a solid millionaire in the Philippines, one should have at least 50 Million Pesos in the bank. Liquid capital.
(land is not included).

Investment, family endowment.

I invest with Jews. Always.

---

Time savings is important; if you have a considerable amount of liquid capital, place it in a CD time savings. Invest a little in emerging markets, and search appropriately at trusworthy hedge funds and invest an amount that is comfortable with you.

In my own field, I like to invest with Jewish Businessmen, because whatever they plan on, they succeed in (I believe in God's promise to the Jews).

Like anything, you win some, you loose some. Invest wisely. And never put all your eggs in one basket (symbolism intended).

Zuckerberg is not a millionaire. He's worth over $ 7 Billion. He's a Billionaire.

Quote from: vrglguapo on October 25, 2010, 02:40:50 PM
millionaryo una usa ang mga billionaire ato lang na sila himoan ug laing thread hehehe...

I find it interesting how a man is considered 'milyonaryo' if he owns a car/ suv/ truck in the Philippines.

In America, a man is considered a millionaire when he has at least $1,000,000 + in his bank account.

Pero, here in America, a man is not a millionaire until he makes it in dollars.

Quote from: vhinz08 on October 24, 2010, 07:27:01 PM
For me massage for girls only. joke lang

singing too.

Vhinz, this is a most precious asset.

Truly.

I'm referring to both singing and massaging.  ha ha.

Ang bolanon mo ingon ang cebuano ay "wise" (in the negative connotation)

Ang cebuano mo ingon ang bolanon ay "ignorante"


~~

When I went to visit Cebu for the first time, I took the super ferry and i overheard a cebuano saying this stereotype. Quite disheartening, but I do notice that some Cebuanos think themselves 'superior' to the Bolanon because of the 'cuidad' mentality.

Cebu can keep its city.
I'll prefer the green vast fertile land of Bohol as compared to the smog and crime of Cebu.., any day.

by: Usher






Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) Usher HQ

hehehe ma inspired pood ta.

Aha man pood ang mga Billionaryo diri sa TB?

hehehe


Opaw

Max Surban - Unang Pag Tan-aw Ug Sine

di gyud ni mag daog bisan unsaon! lol

Max Surban - Kuntis Sa Hambog

I have many friends from Iloilo, and they all say that the stereotype that Ilonggos have on Bolanons are that Bolanons are "Buutan".

What are the stereotypes that people from all over the Philippines have on the Bol-anon?

"mag mahal kanimo hangtud sa ka hangturan..."

kujawa!

by: Max Surban

Max Surban - Bol-anon

Millionaires? Hehe, kujawa pood.

There is no comparison to Filipina Beauty...

Aklan, Panay Island

Bugang River, Antique Province
-Panay Heartland-

Kiniray-an na lang!

Manay Tess,  these pictures are beautiful. Thank you for spiritually including us in your prayers during the pilgrimage. May God continue to pour forth Heaven's Graces on you...

The kindness you have given us , brothers and sister in Christ, will be remembered in Heaven.

May God Bless You a Thousand Fold!


God Bless!


Yours In Jesus Christ our Savior King,
Lorenzo.

Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."
--Matthew 19:14

The Fatherly Love of God...
Our Loving Savior..

The Lord Is Our Comforter



3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 5 For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.  6 If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. 7 Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.

--2 Corinthians 3-7

By God's Grace, my world is bright and filled with His Love...

Thanks be to God.

beautiful, Father!

-A. Lorenzo Lucino



I once knew a man who knew the melody of the thumping heart,
ye, before he saw the brilliance of a simple smile

Ye, but he did see such a smile,
The thumping of his old heart changed
The resonating sound of a gallop replaced the former

Can you imagine a heart, a heart that gallops
Nay, not tachycardia,
Nay, not hyperthyroidism,
Nay, not pathology

But, my darling, the sweet sound of Melody
The sound that is heard only by the man
in
adoring love

Do you hear it?