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unveiling of talents many of which reside out- side the walls of the established literary canon.

On the sidewalks of our eternal city the lonely diarist meets the insomniac mythologist, while behind the glass at a nearby shop the curi- ous metaphysician sips coffee with the firm advocate of the dispossessed. Round the cor- ner, Thomas L. Holderfield gives us the image of a luckless angler which in fact is an accu- rate image of our everyday aspirations as they are reduced by repeated failures into simple everyday rituals–rituals which we eventually celebrate as an indispensable part of our lives. Steven Curtis Lance’s poetry begins as a dog- gerel, develops as a reflection and ends with fine philosophical strokes which challenge the conventional structure not only of grammatical logic but also of our formatted understanding. Peycho Kanev in “Psalm” quantizes the com- plexities of the world and tries to find meaning in dislocating its parts, only to make us arrive at the same and equal dissonance. He declares, “This world/was screwed up before time was time, even before emptiness/gave any hints of vacuum.” In the end the poem extols the capacity of words to simplify the unmanage- able. Deep underneath the piece is a caveat that sometimes in our most fervent effort to com- prehend the fragments of the world, we end up making the world more incomprehensible.

As with the rest of the poems, those cited above do not deviate from the same questions that arrested the Grecian librettists of yore, and aside from having driven these inquiries through the processors of our Microsoft Windows and Apple-Macintosh worlds, we broaden them even more to the point that they, as with Vensan Kamberk in his short but sweet “Tug of War”, tear us apart in as many dimensions. Man is indeed a battlefield – a war has been fought at, fought by and fought with his own. This inter- nal war also engaged Edwin Cordevilla while

penning his meditative epic, after a realiza- tion that occurred in the wake of the gripping Abbottabad raid. The breadth of Cordevilla’s “Ten Thousand Lines Project for World Peace” is worthy of prolonged study and discussion for its organic treatment of the subject and its attendant themes in a variety of ways. His inward exploration reinstates the old questions on humanity to their rightful place at a time when they are most relevant and yet forgotten.

It seems that it is really in the poet’s destiny to explore what lies beyond every periphery, even though in encircling the sphere from past to present or from present to the past he would come back to the same spot all over again; that despite the physical and psycho- logical wracking it entails, he would continue to venture out in all directions, adventure being, in the words of Felix Fojas, “man’s best company.” Yet what is important is that in this process the poet, even the avant-garde, indulges in the paradox of laying the same question on the table without recreating it, pur- suing a course where momentary answers are left for the curiosity of succeeding generations.

How the universe came into being has been told a myriad times–how light unmerged from the darkness, how Reason unfolded from its clasp with Confusion, and, the grandest of all, how the forces of the bodies orchestrated a symphony so perplexing and yet so beau- tiful that such has become the reason why we never tire of looking up in the night sky and listening to the humming of the moon. And the poet does not settle where his poem stops. Always he feels a solitary struggle to find meaning out of the meanings already given to him. He is an unrestrained voice of longing having that passionate spirit of hewing out of the already-furnished rock a city of aesthetics and truth in just the simple gesture of words.

Alvin dela Serna Lopez Editor

PAGE 4 ∙ Year I ∙ Issue #1

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