Tower of Babel

Amidst the crowd of men
Struggling for power and fame,
There stood a lofty monument
Proclaiming its majestic name.

Its prowess sends a fuss
Over countries far and wide.
Its power, its fame has
Unleashed the sword of pride.

From valleys, hills and plains,
To cities, countries and oceans,
Its majestic name is pronounced
With so much adoration.

But alas! The monument still
Is not rest assured.
Oh Heavens! Unpredictable is destiny
For fame can soon be a distant memory.

-Katherine Lopez, 2004

(I wrote this poem when I was a high school junior. The poem was published in our school paper.)

Nostalgia

Sounds of unknown footsteps
And a sea of unfamiliar face,
Seems trivial, seems mundane
But enough to make me feel homeless

A cozy bed with soft pillows
And quilts of pastel shades
Seems nice but for me hollow.
It can't give back a warm embrace.

Roasted turkey on the table
And a bottle of champagne
Looks delightful, but I'm alone.
They're tasteless; they're so plain.

Oh Home! In your absence
I drown in pain and sadness.
I'm cold, and I'm on my own.
Oh please, take me home.

-Katherine Lopez, 2004

(I wrote this poem when i was a high senior. It was published in our school paper.)

Belle de Jour

She slips into her high heels
Pairs them with a dress.
She sports this look at work
Everyday.

She steps onto the street
And walk gracefully, rhythmically,
Her hips gently swaying
To their own beat, their tempo.

She takes the light rail
And maintains a calm disposition
Even if everyone else
Pushes her way in.

She finishes her tasks,
Never turns them in half-baked.
She takes pride in her job,
Never coy, always with her chin up.

She is strong and smart,
Focused, a goal setter.
She may be nursing a broken heart,
But she stands tall; she is fearless.

-Katherine Lopez, 19 January 2010

Frisbee Mondays

Tonight was my second time in the Philippine Ultimate Association's Beginners' Night. It's the game of ultimate disc, or more popularly known as frisbee. Yes. I've never been sporty. I've never played any sport except in P.E. classes when I was still in school. But this sport caught my interest, and I'm so thankful to my friend for dragging me along with her to the Beginners' Night every Monday.

I've always known that exercise and physical activities release endorphins, the happy hormone. And true enough, even if I get tired from all the running we do in playing frisbee, and even if my legs hurt during the next couple of days, I don't mind. After every game, I always feel happy - from the company of amazing friends, from meeting new people, and from playing that wonderful sport.

I still suck at it though. I still can't throw the disc well. I still don't have the stamina to endure the intense running the sport requires. But in time, I'll get the hang of it. Soon, I'll be able to throw the disc well, catch it well, and run without panting after.

So there. Until next Monday. I'm looking forward to our next games.

Me and Cooking

I just finished watching Julie & Julia. I enjoyed it, and those sumptuous dishes they cooked in the film made me want to eat them.

Which brings me to the fact that I want to learn how to cook. I've been wanting to do it, but my fear of the flame and hot surfaces and hot cooking oil jumping from the pan to my fingers has been stopping me. Whenever I help my mom in the kitchen, I just slice the vegetables and meat needed, and my mom does the cooking. I've sauteed onions, garlic, and tomatoes for various dished my mom cooks, but I've never really cooked a dish in a sense that I cook one entirely by myself.

That's one of the things I hope to accomplish this 2010: to learn how to cook. And when I do, the first dish I'm going to cook is my favorite menudo.

Writer's Block?

I've been wanting to write a poem, but I can't think of an image I would want to paint through my words. Some might say it's because I can't find my inspiration. Some might call it writer's block.

I remember one of my teachers in high school saying that writing is discipline. Being able to write is not about waiting for inspiration to strike. I believe her. I believe good writers can and should write when they need to, and most especially, when they want to. Weaving the right words to share thoughts, ideas, or emotions depends not on the writer's so-called muse or inspiration, but on his or her abilities.

But I guess it's not true for writing for poetry. The poems I've written are always inspired by something - whether a current event, a past experience, or a person. Maybe in order for me to write a poem, I need not wait for a lofty inspiration, because there are a lot of things around me and in life that can inspire me, no matter how simple or mundane they might be.

P.S. I'll share with you the poems I wrote in high school when I find the time to type them here. We're having a busy week at work, and I'm swamped, so I'll post them when things loosen up a little. Thanks for reading! :)