The Gods We Worship Live Next Door by Bino A. Realuyo
The Gods We Worship Live Next Door is a poetry collection by Bino A. Realuyo that was published in 2006 by the University of Utah Press and then in 2008 by Anvil Publishing. The collection contains 27 poems, most of which have previously appeared in various journals, magazines, and anthologies (The Asian Pacific American Journal, Texas Poetry Review, Del Sol Review, The Kenyon Review, The Literary Review, Mockingbird, The Nation, New Letters, etc.).
Synopsis:
The late National Artist for Literature N.V.M. Gonzales wrote about Bino A. Realuyo's first poems published in the Philippines: "The most moving ones I have come across in recent years...I am honored to be one of his first readers, although for now, he is a continent and an ocean away."
Realuyo's award winning debut collection is now on Philippine shores. The Gods We Worship Next Door is the recipient of the 2005 Agha Shahid Ali Prize in Poetry in the United States selected by Grace Schulman, distinguished professor of English at Baruch College, City University of New York and Poetry Editor of The Nation.
"If I became the brown woman
Tino and the Typhoon by Alice Geer Kelsey (Book)
Tino and the Typhoon is a novel written by Alice Geer Kelsey that was originally published in 1958.
Synopsis:
In the coastal Philippine village of Darapidap lives a boy named Tino, the lighthouse keeper's son. Watching his father keep the light inspires Tino to do a grown man's work, but his fears hold him back in his father's eyes. When a fierce storm threatens the safety of the village and the fishermen at sea, Tino's courage is put to a true test.
Excerpt from Chapter 1: Valentino's Secret
Valentino did not call it hiding. He would have said he just happened to be polishing the red outboard motor when his father, Lighthouse Keeper Rodolfo Luna, needed someone to climb the ladder. Its thirty-one dizzy rungs marched up outside the slim white lighthouse in the center in the Philippine coastal village of Darapidap. Its beacon signaled, "This way home," to fishermen in their narrow outrigger bangkas far out in the South China Sea.
It was not his fault, Valentino would have said, that the five-horsepower motor he was shining happened to be where his father could not see it, or see him as he polished. It was the lighthouse keeper himself, not Valentino, who was careful to store it in the thatched bamboo shed with the motors of neighbor fishermen whose wooden bangkas were drawn up on the sandy beach waiting till time and weather for night fishing.
Valentino heard his father call amiably, "I left the empty kerosene tin in the balcony beside the lamp. I need it. Who will be the one to go up for it?"
The boy was glad there were no windows in the banboo shed. He squatted behind the door, hidden from the doorway. He knew what would come next.
"Tino! Tino!" his father called less pleasantly. "Where is that Valentino?"
"He is somewhere around," said Tino's mother. She was sitting on her heels baside the shallow laundry tub near the pump on their high back poarch. "I saw him a minute ago."
The boy knew what he hoped to hear next. And he heard it.
"I will be the one to climb the ladder, Tatang!" It was the cheerful voice of his younger sister, Erlinda. For the hundredth time, Tino was grateful that she sensed his shameful secret and came to his rescue.
"Your lazy brother should be the one." Tino could feel the frown on his father's rugged, weather-lined face. "He is never around when someone must climb the lighthouse ladder."
"Oh, I like to climb it!" Erlinda's brisk voice came from the foot of the ladder - then from higher - and higher. "Tino is not lazy. He is just - just - " Tino wondered what she would say. Would she give away his humiliating secret? He was relieved when she finished, "Tino is just busy doing other things."
"I am going up, too!" Tino heard his brother Pedro say. He was four years younger than Tino. Everybody called him Pedring.
"Me - up - too!" lisped Rosario. She was between Pedring and Baby Pepito in age. "Me - up - too!"
Danger to his little sister brought Tino running from the bamboo shed. He dashed across the hard-packed dirt yard to grab little Rosario as she took a fumbling step from first to second ladder rung. He could not explain why he gave her a spiteful little shake as he set her on the ground. He was angry with someone, but not with her - nor with Pedring - nor with his adored father - nor with loyal Erlinda.
Synopsis:
In the coastal Philippine village of Darapidap lives a boy named Tino, the lighthouse keeper's son. Watching his father keep the light inspires Tino to do a grown man's work, but his fears hold him back in his father's eyes. When a fierce storm threatens the safety of the village and the fishermen at sea, Tino's courage is put to a true test.
Excerpt from Chapter 1: Valentino's Secret
Valentino did not call it hiding. He would have said he just happened to be polishing the red outboard motor when his father, Lighthouse Keeper Rodolfo Luna, needed someone to climb the ladder. Its thirty-one dizzy rungs marched up outside the slim white lighthouse in the center in the Philippine coastal village of Darapidap. Its beacon signaled, "This way home," to fishermen in their narrow outrigger bangkas far out in the South China Sea.
It was not his fault, Valentino would have said, that the five-horsepower motor he was shining happened to be where his father could not see it, or see him as he polished. It was the lighthouse keeper himself, not Valentino, who was careful to store it in the thatched bamboo shed with the motors of neighbor fishermen whose wooden bangkas were drawn up on the sandy beach waiting till time and weather for night fishing.
Valentino heard his father call amiably, "I left the empty kerosene tin in the balcony beside the lamp. I need it. Who will be the one to go up for it?"
The boy was glad there were no windows in the banboo shed. He squatted behind the door, hidden from the doorway. He knew what would come next.
"Tino! Tino!" his father called less pleasantly. "Where is that Valentino?"
"He is somewhere around," said Tino's mother. She was sitting on her heels baside the shallow laundry tub near the pump on their high back poarch. "I saw him a minute ago."
The boy knew what he hoped to hear next. And he heard it.
"I will be the one to climb the ladder, Tatang!" It was the cheerful voice of his younger sister, Erlinda. For the hundredth time, Tino was grateful that she sensed his shameful secret and came to his rescue.
"Your lazy brother should be the one." Tino could feel the frown on his father's rugged, weather-lined face. "He is never around when someone must climb the lighthouse ladder."
"Oh, I like to climb it!" Erlinda's brisk voice came from the foot of the ladder - then from higher - and higher. "Tino is not lazy. He is just - just - " Tino wondered what she would say. Would she give away his humiliating secret? He was relieved when she finished, "Tino is just busy doing other things."
"I am going up, too!" Tino heard his brother Pedro say. He was four years younger than Tino. Everybody called him Pedring.
"Me - up - too!" lisped Rosario. She was between Pedring and Baby Pepito in age. "Me - up - too!"
Danger to his little sister brought Tino running from the bamboo shed. He dashed across the hard-packed dirt yard to grab little Rosario as she took a fumbling step from first to second ladder rung. He could not explain why he gave her a spiteful little shake as he set her on the ground. He was angry with someone, but not with her - nor with Pedring - nor with his adored father - nor with loyal Erlinda.
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Books
The Tree by Godofredo Burce Bunao (Poem) - Meaning and Analysis
The tree was very beautiful to me
When I was a boy
I climbed for fruit or out of a branch of the tree
Made me a toy—
A top, for instance, that spun around, carefree
And wound for joy until it toppled over and was dead.
No longer the boy,
I find the tree as beautiful as though not
Just for branch
Or a bunch of fruit but-more than that-for a bed
Or to fence the ranch
In which I raise the beasts that fill the pot
In the many shapes
My simple commerce turn them to like bread
Or fish or grapes
To feed the brood the little woman me.
There go the boys.
Go watch them, strong limb; spread up the tree,
They pluck their toys
Out of its branches, as out of my childhood tree
I shaped my joys.
When I was a boy
I climbed for fruit or out of a branch of the tree
Made me a toy—
A top, for instance, that spun around, carefree
And wound for joy until it toppled over and was dead.
No longer the boy,
I find the tree as beautiful as though not
Just for branch
Or a bunch of fruit but-more than that-for a bed
Or to fence the ranch
In which I raise the beasts that fill the pot
In the many shapes
My simple commerce turn them to like bread
Or fish or grapes
To feed the brood the little woman me.
There go the boys.
Go watch them, strong limb; spread up the tree,
They pluck their toys
Out of its branches, as out of my childhood tree
I shaped my joys.
Meanings and Analysis
Imagine the poet standing on a road and on the side of the road is a big tree. Such tree reminds him of his childhood. A childhood where he spent a lot of time climbing trees. Climbing trees for their sweet fruits. Climbing trees for their sturdy branches from which he'd create old-fashioned toys like spinning tops. The memory encourages him to write a poem about it.
At its core, The Tree is a poem about growing up - that memorable transition between child and adult. In this process, some things change but things remain the same and intact. Read the poem again. The poet finds trees beautiful when he was a child. He still finds them beautiful as an adult. But the reasoning behind why he finds them beautiful has changed. As a child, the tree is beautiful because it gave him sweet fruits and sturdy branches for fashioning toys. As an adult, the tree is beautiful because it gives him the materials to build furniture and fences.
The poet also encourages the reader to watch boys climb trees so that they can also experience what he's experiencing - a sweet trip down memory lane. A trip to a childhood they'll never be able to go back to - physically at least.
The last line in the poem - "I shaped my joys" - is more open to interpretation. It could mean that the poet's childhood shaped his joys into adulthood. As an adult, he finds joy building furniture and fences from trees. The same joy he experienced as a child eating the sweet fruits of trees. Would he have enjoyed building furniture if he didn't experience climbing trees as a child? Probably not as much.
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Philippine Literature,
Philippine Poetry,
Poems,
Poetry
Cory: Profile of a President by Isabelo T. Crisostomo (Book)
Cory: Profile of a President: The Historic Rise to Power of Corazon Cojuangco Aquino is a book by Isabelo T. Crisostomo published in 1986, the very same year that Cory was installed as President of the Republic of the Philippines after the ouster of Ferdinand E. Marcos Sr.
About the Author (from the book's back flap):
Isabelo T. Crisostomo, one of the Philippines' leading writers, rose to national prominence in the '70s with his provocative essays and stories and his role as a nationalistic writer-educator espousing radical social changes before martial law was imposed in 1972. Among his writing honors were "Most Outstanding Writer" of the Philippines Free Press, "Best Story Writer" of the Arizona Quarterly, and "Best Essay Writer," One-Asia Essay Contest. Author of the first mass communications book in the Philippines, Modern Advertising for Filipinos; a collection of essays, The Challenge of Leadership; a collection of stories, The Lonely Room; and a number of historico-political volumes, he was a state college president (Philippine College of Commerce, now the Polytechnic University of the Philippines) and acamedician, and is at present a consultant on education and communications, public administration and management. Cory: Profile of a President, his sevent published book, is part of a series on progress of the political history of the Philippines.
About the Author (from the book's back flap):
Isabelo T. Crisostomo, one of the Philippines' leading writers, rose to national prominence in the '70s with his provocative essays and stories and his role as a nationalistic writer-educator espousing radical social changes before martial law was imposed in 1972. Among his writing honors were "Most Outstanding Writer" of the Philippines Free Press, "Best Story Writer" of the Arizona Quarterly, and "Best Essay Writer," One-Asia Essay Contest. Author of the first mass communications book in the Philippines, Modern Advertising for Filipinos; a collection of essays, The Challenge of Leadership; a collection of stories, The Lonely Room; and a number of historico-political volumes, he was a state college president (Philippine College of Commerce, now the Polytechnic University of the Philippines) and acamedician, and is at present a consultant on education and communications, public administration and management. Cory: Profile of a President, his sevent published book, is part of a series on progress of the political history of the Philippines.
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Books,
Filipiniana
List of Books About Andres Bonifacio, a Hero In Philippine History
Andres Bonifacio is the most well-known revolutionary leader in Philippine history. Some historians even argue that he should be the country's national hero instead of Jose Rizal.
Here is a list of books you should read if you want to learn more about the man who is often referred to as the "Father of the Philippine Revolution".
Scripted by Men Not by Fate: Andres Bonifacio in Cavite: An Analytical Narrative with Commentary on Selected Sources by Soledad Borromeo-Buehler (2017)
Supremo: The Story of Andres Bonifacio by Sylvia Mendez Ventura (Writer) and Egai Fernandez (Illustrator) (2001)
This is a biography of Bonifacio that is geared towards young readers.
Bones of Contention: The Andres Bonifacio Lectures by Ambeth R. Ocampo (2001)
Inventing a Hero: The Post-Humous Recreation of Andres Bonifacio by Glenn Anthony May (1996)
The Writings and Trial of Andres Bonifacio by Teodoro Agoncillo (1963)
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