As promised, I am posting the first experimental Hey Poem on the web and elsewhere. At first, I thought of posting a Hey Poem about McClellan's book; however, I decided to go for this poem on Mr. Poetry Prose.
Since this experimental Hey Poem is an adaptation of the Higa-onon's dasang(dah-SANG), I also would like to post a clip from You Tube of a tribal chieftain performing this speech-song. (Sorry guys, everytime I paste the Dasang clip, an animation is messing up with it. Promise, I'll try to post the dasang clip next time.)
Hope you'll appreciate the beauty and the art of the Higa-onon tribe of southern Philippines as adapted in the English poetry form.
Please enjoy!
TO YOU, MR. POETRY PROSE
(c)edmund industan 2007
Twenty-four seven, I am sharing my soul.
Daytime, I lay in some anatomy class
Naked to my minutest part! Students
Checking my innards to learn my craft.
At nightime, I wanted to be laid,
But very few invite me to bed.
Most prefer to be embraced by a silk
Not by a wool or a crocheted sheet.
So, at ten, I wear shades in the dark.
The night owls are dancing their hearts out.
'Though I'm not sure if they could hear my words
They added jolts and croons to my chords.
But hey!
I am awake! I am doing my part!
Hey!
I entertain until they are out.
Hey!
I stir the minds of the academe
But, I would love to be in someone's dream.
It's true, Poetry Prose, I'm in discontent.
I would love to expand and evolve...
Be active, out in the street...
Not passively awake in the shelves.
I'm glad you tried to adapt the form
Of Meticulous Prose! But, sure, not enough!
Convince me, P.P., I'm still an old Thomas...
Structure isn't enough to win the reader's heart.
You think you're better off than those on a diet?
They restrict too much to come up with a skinny form.
Ended up emaciated...light as a cotton ball!
People can't make a sense of the dress they don.
But hey!
It is not late! We still have the time.
Hey!
Let's associate; let us check the street.
Hey!
Let's check the world how they pace their time.
And evolve! Need to grow along with the time.
So Hey!
As mother hen, I am clacking for one,
'Come to my bosom and learn evolution.
There is a change to benefit the world
Not a change to be self-contained.'
Yes, we are a spook of the culture and not...
A hermit! We can't survive on our own.
We have to adapt on what other's need;
So that our art can help us better the world.
(Note: This hey poem is included in my upcoming book, "150+1 Poems...:An Anthology")
Showing posts with label ethnopoetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ethnopoetry. Show all posts
Monday, June 2, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
A PROSE POETRY ON DASANG (Hey Poem)
I promised you a sample of a Hey Poem (Dasang) to be posted this weekend. However, I decided to post this prose poetry, instead, to give you more information about it.
THE WORLD NEEDS A "DASANG" (Yell)
(c) e.industan 2007
I entered the jungle of concretes and brains. Then, I hopped in a cave full of bound papers and shelves. I went to a corner and fiddled some keys to find my way in the maze.
The cave is primeval, but houses all species from living to the dead. Only a cave, but I walked around the globe and onto someone's grave.
I strutted through the brown condos of famous and the sage. I gazed up, then down, while slightly touching the numbers of those in my reach: storages of Dickinson, Lowell, Sigourney, Whitman, and the rest.
Unnoticed at first, a mountain began to grow. As I rested, my mind wandered away from those tomes that caught me in awe. I whispered,'...but something's missing. I still am not convinced. There were lots of gentle...subtle voices in verses, but didn't hit me hard, as a hammer, in my head.'
I folded my elbow, thumped my forehead to rest. Eyes closed; mind zapped beyond the shelves. I heard from afar the yell of a speech-song by a tribe, the Higa-onon. A tribe in the Philippines, the speech is a "Dasang".
A hortatory used mainly by the chiefs...to admonish, advice, argue, implore, and scold the mischief's. They used flowery and sweets to numb the pain, while they hurled fiery arrows to those wolves among men.
The vision seemed so real as I listened to the rhythm: da-da-DAT-da-da-DAT on line after they said, "Git". After the "Git" the speech was sometimes flat...sometimes contoured with rhythmic patterns, but not strict at all. I'm conviced this is "it" that would fill the void in the caves.
Revived, I took a quill from my coat tail. I started stringing flowery words about our world. I hope to lift reality to its next level... that the world could see poetry, not just artsy, but as an active part of society.
Soon, I'll post the seed that I want to germinate. I hope the poets and the non-poets will stop by in some caves to see and savor the goodness of this ethnopoetic.
(Note: This prose poetry is included in my upcoming book: 150+1 Poems on THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poem) and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS: An Anthology.
THE WORLD NEEDS A "DASANG" (Yell)
(c) e.industan 2007
I entered the jungle of concretes and brains. Then, I hopped in a cave full of bound papers and shelves. I went to a corner and fiddled some keys to find my way in the maze.
The cave is primeval, but houses all species from living to the dead. Only a cave, but I walked around the globe and onto someone's grave.
I strutted through the brown condos of famous and the sage. I gazed up, then down, while slightly touching the numbers of those in my reach: storages of Dickinson, Lowell, Sigourney, Whitman, and the rest.
Unnoticed at first, a mountain began to grow. As I rested, my mind wandered away from those tomes that caught me in awe. I whispered,'...but something's missing. I still am not convinced. There were lots of gentle...subtle voices in verses, but didn't hit me hard, as a hammer, in my head.'
I folded my elbow, thumped my forehead to rest. Eyes closed; mind zapped beyond the shelves. I heard from afar the yell of a speech-song by a tribe, the Higa-onon. A tribe in the Philippines, the speech is a "Dasang".
A hortatory used mainly by the chiefs...to admonish, advice, argue, implore, and scold the mischief's. They used flowery and sweets to numb the pain, while they hurled fiery arrows to those wolves among men.
The vision seemed so real as I listened to the rhythm: da-da-DAT-da-da-DAT on line after they said, "Git". After the "Git" the speech was sometimes flat...sometimes contoured with rhythmic patterns, but not strict at all. I'm conviced this is "it" that would fill the void in the caves.
Revived, I took a quill from my coat tail. I started stringing flowery words about our world. I hope to lift reality to its next level... that the world could see poetry, not just artsy, but as an active part of society.
Soon, I'll post the seed that I want to germinate. I hope the poets and the non-poets will stop by in some caves to see and savor the goodness of this ethnopoetic.
(Note: This prose poetry is included in my upcoming book: 150+1 Poems on THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poem) and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS: An Anthology.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Ethnopoetic and the Higa-onon Dasang (dah-SANG)
Ethnopoetic isn't new to the literary world. It has been existing for, at least the last 200 years. The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics (1993) considers a literary work as such, if it is a means to compare poetry and related arts with a characteristics, but not exclusive emphases, to stateless, low technology cultures and on oral and nonliterate forms of verbal expression, and if the poetry or the idea is about the culture being studied. Ethnopoetic can also be a movement in contemporary literary world, in which literature and social science (particularly anthropology and sociolinguistics) devote to studying and adapting such poetic verbal expressions.
Even though ethnopoetic has been going on for many years, the term itself had been popularized in 1968 by a journalist, Jerome Rothenberg, and an anthopologist, Dennis Tedlock, when they collaborated to edit the magazine, Alcheringa, from 1971 to 1980. Alcheringa was an avenue to promote ethnopoetics. Consequently, 2 international symposia on the movement were held in 1978 and 1985. Unfortunately, ethnopoetic did not stir a considerable interest to the literary scholars and social scientists. Currently, it is in hibernation and would surely disappear into its eternal death if no one would attempt to revive it.
I really am feeling bad for the imminent demise of ethnopoetic, because ethnic languages are just as beautiful, interesting, complex, and unique as others. Let us take dasang, a poetic hortatory discourse of the Higa-onon (hii-gah-OH-noon) of southern Philippines. German ethnomusicologist, and my good friend, Hans Brandeis, who extensively did his research in the Philippines, categorized it as a speech-song. (see Hans Brandies Homepage)
I lived and worked among the Higa-onon tribe in the 70s and constantly heard dasang (dah-SANG) in tribal meetings to investigate lawlessness and resolve issues on intra-village problems. It is delivered, full of imagery, to avoid direct insult, shame, and embarrassment to a suspected culprit. At the same time, it is a way to win a case, negotiate for a lighter penalty, to advise the culprit, and to showcase the oratorical skill and artistry of the chieftain.
Dasang , by itself, is a beauty and art when performed. The lifting of the orator's behind and the swaying of the arms when the orator says a unique interjection, "git" or"kit" ( which I equate it with the English term, hey), is so entertaining that the villagers will congregate to witness an hour or so, of otherwise, boring meetings.
Despite its beauty and uniqueness, dasang is disappearing. Since it is transmitted orally, the younger generation, who are more inclined to adapt the national or world's pop culture for social acceptance, most definitely, has to be motivated to learn, embrace (as they embrace hip-hop), and have the self-pride to preserve it. One way for scholars to help in motivating the young generation is to promote and elevate dasang as a poetry form, which is adapted and accepted internationally.
I, as a member of another Philippine tribe (the Bukidnons), is advocating the revival of ethnopoetic. I have introduced dasang, as a hey poem, in my book, KOILAWAN (koi-lah-ONE): Letters and Poems of a Jungle Dad-Mom, which has been marketed worlwide. My upcoming book, 150+1 Poems of THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poem) and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS: An Anthology, have a dozen more hey poem to promote it. I hope that more literary scholars and social scientists will join the bandwagon in promoting, preserving, and reviving the movement of ethnopoetics.
Even though ethnopoetic has been going on for many years, the term itself had been popularized in 1968 by a journalist, Jerome Rothenberg, and an anthopologist, Dennis Tedlock, when they collaborated to edit the magazine, Alcheringa, from 1971 to 1980. Alcheringa was an avenue to promote ethnopoetics. Consequently, 2 international symposia on the movement were held in 1978 and 1985. Unfortunately, ethnopoetic did not stir a considerable interest to the literary scholars and social scientists. Currently, it is in hibernation and would surely disappear into its eternal death if no one would attempt to revive it.
I really am feeling bad for the imminent demise of ethnopoetic, because ethnic languages are just as beautiful, interesting, complex, and unique as others. Let us take dasang, a poetic hortatory discourse of the Higa-onon (hii-gah-OH-noon) of southern Philippines. German ethnomusicologist, and my good friend, Hans Brandeis, who extensively did his research in the Philippines, categorized it as a speech-song. (see Hans Brandies Homepage)
I lived and worked among the Higa-onon tribe in the 70s and constantly heard dasang (dah-SANG) in tribal meetings to investigate lawlessness and resolve issues on intra-village problems. It is delivered, full of imagery, to avoid direct insult, shame, and embarrassment to a suspected culprit. At the same time, it is a way to win a case, negotiate for a lighter penalty, to advise the culprit, and to showcase the oratorical skill and artistry of the chieftain.
Dasang , by itself, is a beauty and art when performed. The lifting of the orator's behind and the swaying of the arms when the orator says a unique interjection, "git" or"kit" ( which I equate it with the English term, hey), is so entertaining that the villagers will congregate to witness an hour or so, of otherwise, boring meetings.
Despite its beauty and uniqueness, dasang is disappearing. Since it is transmitted orally, the younger generation, who are more inclined to adapt the national or world's pop culture for social acceptance, most definitely, has to be motivated to learn, embrace (as they embrace hip-hop), and have the self-pride to preserve it. One way for scholars to help in motivating the young generation is to promote and elevate dasang as a poetry form, which is adapted and accepted internationally.
I, as a member of another Philippine tribe (the Bukidnons), is advocating the revival of ethnopoetic. I have introduced dasang, as a hey poem, in my book, KOILAWAN (koi-lah-ONE): Letters and Poems of a Jungle Dad-Mom, which has been marketed worlwide. My upcoming book, 150+1 Poems of THE EXPERIMENTAL DASANG (Hey Poem) and 45 OTHER POETRY FORMS: An Anthology, have a dozen more hey poem to promote it. I hope that more literary scholars and social scientists will join the bandwagon in promoting, preserving, and reviving the movement of ethnopoetics.
(Note: A sample of Dasang or hey poem will be posted here sometime this weekend.)
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