Eight years ago, Rosario “Chat” Lachica, 58, made her first visit to the Libingan ng mga Bayani. She was there to pay her last respects to National Artist Nick Joaquin who died in his sleep on April 29, 2004.
Europe, the seat of everything that was grand, powerful, and prosperous, was caught in the teeth of the First World War, the year Nicomedes Márquez Joaquín was born on May 4, 1917. It was half a world away from a boy who would emerge half a century later as one of the greatest literary minds in a poor and exploited country still caught in its own, long drawn-out war of independence in 1917.
It’s a four-year-old book of poetry—a slim book, all of 90 pages, with 55 poems published in 2022, ready to be read and absorbed.
And for English-proficient third-millennium Filipinos—whether aspiring for comfort or already living in ease—the images spun by 16 of the 55 poems hark back to a time beyond their consciousness.
That is why Jim Pascual Agustin’s Bloodred Dragonflies can be the metaphorical blood transfusion required to pump poignant, visual, and painful cells of old memory into the veins of the unconcerned and unaware.
It was the type of news that jarred the senses because it was the first time it happened in the country. Government officials called it an “unprecedented tragedy.”
On the morning of June 22 of this year, two students, aged 14 and 15, bypassed the security checks of San Jose National High School in Tacloban City.
One student carried in his bag a Glock 17 pistol, the other carried a .38-caliber revolver. At past 9 a.m. both opened fire indiscriminately inside the school’s crowded rooms and hallways. And then the shooting stopped, but not after killing three students and wounding 20 more.
BY HIS own admission, the young Orlando “Orly” Mercado was “a dyed-in-the-wool, left-wing activist,” having organized his first labor union shortly after beginning his...
Angelic, with a hint of sadness and uncertainty framing an otherwise cherubic, smiling face, the boy is small, thin, amiable, and sprightly.
When asked what...
The astronauts got it right the first time. It was 1971 and Apollo 14 Lunar Module Pilot Edgar Mitchell peered through the small window of their spacecraft and saw a 360-degree panoramic view of the Earth, Moon, Sun, and the stars.”
