See you tomorrow night at Conspiracy for UP Pride Week’s Red Alert.

And I still haven’t written anything decent for tomorrow’s performance night. Shoot.

Still, do check out Red Alert. It’s a fund raiser for LGBT hate crime research and is part of the UP Pride Week activities. Several other musicians and poets will be performing at Conspiracy tomorrow night, starting 8 pm.

Red Alert

Musicians and poets from and for the LGBT community shall deliver performances in celebration of Pride month. This closing activity of the UP Pride Week shall also be a fundraiser for the research efforts of Philippine LGBT Hate Crime Watch in their continuing documentation of LGBT murders all over the country.

If you don’t know how to get to Conspiracy, here are the commuting directions from its Facebook page:

1) From Quezon City Elliptical Road, get down 200 meters after passing QC Hall [i.e., Philcoa], take Jeepney route VISAYAS AVE-TANDANG SORA. Get down at the first Shell Station in Visayas Avenue. Conspiracy Cafe is located right across the first Shell Station in Visayas Avenue [coming from QC Circle].

2) From Commonwealth Avenue, turn right to Central Avenue (beside Iglesia ni Cristo-Main). It takes one tricycle ride to the first Shell Station at Visayas Avenue.

So tomorrow, I’ll be heading to Cavite immediately after work to attend a wedding. Then, by evening, it’s Red Alert in Quezon City. Oh man, it’s one of those really long days.

Old poem: Leftover Night.

Leftover Night

Something died
in the middle of my dinner, you know.

A fly must have thought
it had enough of this world, and so
it took a dive into
my bowl of soup.

Two wings and six legs
flailing half-heartedly
for exactly three seconds.
For twenty-seven more, I sat watching

a dead fly in a stock as flat
as a dinnertime conversation.
It was over when you saw
what I was looking at; pointing out
how disgusting I was, didn’t I know that?

I watched a dead fly go down
the drain. Thirty years flailing
half-heartedly in a flat soup
and not yet choosing to stop.

It has been so long.

25 November 2004
(Revised 12 June 2005)

Red Alert: Performance Night for Hate Crime Research.

I’m sharing this announcement for a fundraiser for the Philippine LGBT Hate Crime Watch research on July 1st at Conspiracy:

Red Alert: Performance Night for Hate Crime Research

Akei, Independent Cultural Xchange, Task Force Pride Philippines & Philippine LGBT Hate Crime Watch invite everybody to

Red Alert
Performance Night for Hate Crime Research

Musicians and poets from and for the LGBT community shall deliver performances in celebration of Pride month. This closing activity of the UP LGBTIQ Week shall also be a fundraiser for the research efforts of Philippine LGBT Hate Crime Watch in their continuing documentation of LGBT murders all over the country.

Order of performances starting at 9PM:

Bad Days for Mary
Mark Angeles
Tetas and the Twat
Prof. J. Neil Garcia
names are for tombstones
Gwen Bautista
Flying Ipis
Jade Tamboon
Tao Aves
PJ Gurnamal
Flush and the Toilets
Eduardo Enriquez

No door charge, only a suggested donation of PhP 150 for the artistes & Philippine LGBT Hate Crime Watch.

My name is in that list. One of the organizers, Nex, is a friend from way, way back and he sent me a message asking if I could read poetry for their fundraiser. Despite not reading (or even writing) poems for years now, I figured it should be fun and I should try it. If anything else, I could say that I did something concrete for the local LGBT community.

I will not say it’s for a good cause; that panders to the work and dedication of Philippine LGBT Hate Crime Watch and similar organizations who remain vigilant in upholding justice and human rights. I can only claim to occasional armchair activism, but these guys put into action what they truly believe in.

But now that I’ve seen the list of performers, it’s become a bit surreal for me. If people are going to give money for hate crime research, they ought to get compensation in return. I am not allowed to give a sucky performance.

Old poem: Faded Shirt.

Faded Shirt

Why wear something
so thin and holed
and frayed?
Why wear a faded shirt? she asks.

But she does not know how
something touches my skin,
gentler than a lover. How
something embraces me so:
my skin sighs, content.

But she does not know
my favorite shirt.

Nor me.

Poem: Warning, by Jenny Joseph.

Warning
Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.