CorpsePoetics (formerly WinePoetics)
Savasana-inspired poetics and poems (formerly Wine-inspired poetics and poems)

Friday, December 12, 2003  


And the Winged Corpse descends into H(e)aven. This Blog shall now rest in peace.

Please feel free to follow the jasmine perfume into moi new blog



where she continues to pare herself down to become ever closer to Poetry...

O ye Negative Energy! You shall be stopped at the Gate!

posted by EILEEN | 6:37 AM

Sunday, December 07, 2003  



And nine million and one peeps jump back from their computer screens. Astonished, they watch brief vertical slits appear on their screens, then disappear....fade into a beaming radiance before said screens revert back into the familiar image of the Long-Lashed One....but this time with two cats, one perched on each lovely shoulder.

Sorry, did Artemis's paw startle you? The Corpse beams. My cats aren't de-clawed, but they are very sweet and playful! Anyway, here's grey Artemis who had pawed at your screen....and here's Scarlet the diva. Aren't they precious? And peeps watch for a few minutes while the Angel croons at each feline. Blue wings flare in background....


Then Corpse gives back attention to peeps long-starved for her attention. Don't pout. I know you've all missed me. (Thanks for e-mails and recent mentions on blogs despite moi absence; I just flew a quick blog roundabout.) I do promise to come back....and I do promise A VERY SPECIAL TREAT for my RETURN!!! Just check in every now and then as MOI SHALL RETURN!!

But for now, I'm back just because I promised to participate in blogland's first ever


Here's an adobo poem from my forthcoming book, Menage a Trois With the 21st Century! This is part of the Gabriela Silang poems -- hey, what's a Filipino poetic series without an adobo poem?!

Grandmother’s Fable
As Gabriela Pines for Chicken Adobo

I feel I should savor
my childhood measure of a house

where grandmother
gave birth with abundant abandon

where grandmother died
more radiant than a sun’s implosion--

Seashells adorned the sills
for so many windows--

I could feel grandmother’s
disbelief in walls--

Capiz shells introduced
Corot’s “The Origin of the World”

with mica flakes peeling away
as slowly as a vintner’s “bad year”--

A modest interior
refuted jagged angles--

Clouds of cushions
recycled chicken feathers

softening every piece of narra furniture--
Against hand-stitched covers

white lace and silver sequins
collaged together angels

as if they could never fall:
as if a harpsichord could last an eternity--

From this one visit
to grandmother’s house

I choose to immortalize
another woman’s lost history

aided by translucence
and another poet’s “transposition

of birds into daughters”--
Grandmother stewed chickens

with soy, vinegar, salt and pepper--
I always ate more than one helping

foregoing milk for rice wine
as I prefer my tongue

sodden, thus, fulgent--
I feel I should savor

memory as proof:
Someone shall remember you and me

posted by EILEEN | 8:26 PM

Monday, December 01, 2003  


Two of my new three babies arrive this week, followed by the third baby in a few weeks. The elves are grinning and prepared.

Then I noticed that the sky is ripped today, with its edges having dissipated into grey. So I have to fly up there and do some repairs, which will necessitate transferring some of the color from my lovely blue wings. Sky should always be blue.

This is all to say: I will be off blogland for probably a while. Probably won't be reading many blogs, either, so if you wish to tell me something, send a backchannel e-mail. Meanwhile, do feel free to backchannel me if you have an answer to:

Why must writing a poem require the poet to be grief-stricken?

posted by EILEEN | 8:22 PM

Friday, November 28, 2003  


So my family came up from L.A. to join us for turkey-day. While waiting for them to arrive, I was in the studio working on my novel. Now, as you might glean from reading this blog, when I develop a work, I often find it useful to inhabit the personas of said work (e.g. angels). So, there I was in the studio (I first wrote, novel), behaving in one of the ways that facilitates the writing -- in this case, I was crooning to a Barbie doll with long, black hair (guess who that is) seated in front of a tiny pink computer (you press the keyboard and the screen shows a pink heart).

By the way, this is a "Pinay Barbie" which is different from the usual Barbie. I view a Pinay Barbie as a postcolonial subversion of the Barbie doll for an entirely too complicated reason for me to go into now -- but I mention this as I know certain of youse otherwise would get on moi case for having a Barbie. Anyway...

...there I was crooning to "Marites," the Pinay Barbie and my family arrives. I didn't notice them arrive, which is why my niece Treva apparently was standing, wide-eyed, in the doorway to my studio for a minute watching me interact with Marites....

Later that evening, amicably drying pots and pans (amicably since moi belly was pleasantly full), the conversation gets around to what I sometimes do as a poet, in terms of researching some of my projects. Out of the blue, Treva approaches me and pats me on my left shoulder. She whispers, "It's okay. Everything will be okay."

Treva is 12 years old.

posted by EILEEN | 7:43 AM

Thursday, November 27, 2003  


Okay. As Rhett mischievously recalls, I was interviewed by Sophie the cat at the St. Helena Animal Shelter to see if she'd consent to be my owner. I did attend the interview. In fact, I liked her. Two to three-year-old black cat. Light jade eyes. Soft purring as I stroked her.

Afterwards, Tom said she's just like me. I replied, "What do you mean?"

"A loner. Likes to do her own thing. But very appreciative of receiving attention when she wants it."

Okay....we won't go there further. But there's also one significant issue affecting our cat adoption. As of December 20, our household is due to receive a German Shepherd puppy. So whichever cat we adopt, it would have to be prepared to deal with said puppy.

Sophie apparently wasn't -- something about peeing on counters. That was devastating. The hubby, forthwith, took me to another animal shelter in Sonoma. Shadow. Lovely grey cat. But other issues. Telephoned St. Helena Animal Shelter again. They asked us to come over and be interviewed by Maria.

We went and were interviewed. The thing is, there are hundreds of cats at these animal shelters. So the animal shelter cat people choose which cat shall interview you, based on what you say you are looking for over the phone.

What we need to realize is that cats choose you, not the other way around. While we were making Maria's acquaintance, we were chosen by two other cats: Scarlet and "Ruth." To make a long story short, we decided to be adopted by Scarlet and "Ruth" and will pick them up next Friday. Scarlet has a multicolored -- brown, orange, black, red -- fur that Tom likened to an abstract painting; just gorgeous. "Ruth" is half Siamese, grey, delicate....a clear lady.

We don't know much about Scarlet's background but "Ruth" was dropped off in a litter box with 9 new kittens! "Ruth" is just over one year old but she's already dropped 9 babies -- but that clearly took a toll as nursing turned her into almost skin and bones.

Anyway, the reason I keep putting "Ruth" in quotes is that I've renamed her "Artemis," the virgin goddess of the chase. I don't know -- I sense that the animal shelter people called her a Biblical name to reflect her grace and sacrifices. Well, I wanted to give her a new life (and fatten her up) -- and referred to virginity as, surely, nine babies is enough!

I read a few days back that Catherine changed the name of her cat Winnie to Jude. Then I read Nils say "cat: you can't just change your cat's'll set a sequence of events so vile and reprehensible into motion, irrevocably i might add, that the cosmos just may never recover"

Nils sorta spooked me...but I spoke to the shelter peeps and they said it won't matter for Artemis, The Cat Who Used To Be Ruth, because they'd only had her for two months and so the name they gave her might not have connected yet....and as she's just over a year old, she's still adaptable enough to receive a new name...

Plus, sometimes, the shelter people called her "Ruthie" and I figger if rhyme makes a diff I can always call her "Artie" (and I'll still be happy that Artie is short for Artemis) and, ANYWAY: isn't Artemis a better kitty name than Ruth?


So, today, we spent hours and don't ask how much mula at Petco and Walmart buying FOR TWO CATS AND ONE DOG: beds, blankets, carriers, toys (I confess I went overboard with the catnip toys), Xmas stockings (of course), food (dry food, wet food, and "treats"), litter boxes and litter, leashes (the cat ones have bells on them), dog and cat tags, scratching posts, puppy shampoos, cat bathmat (it's that thing that humans devised and cats probably won't use but which I nonetheless acquired that you place right outside the litter box so the kitties presumably would wipe their paws off on them before returning to rest of house), water and food bowls, fur brushes, and a partridge in a pear's enough to make one dizzy and I did get dizzy. The fact that I got moiself bath beads and new socks while shopping for them aminals didn't alleviate what it took to fill up five shopping baskets....

So, that's the scoop (from the litter box; I have been advised to use clumping litter) on SCARLET and ARTEMIS. Moi new cats!

And now: the story of the dog!

I am blissed to announce Scarlet and Artemis shall have a brother:


He comes with a Bio!

Achilles is a black and tan Brezel German Shepherd
Born October 21, 2003

Dam (Mother): Dam: V Nube vom Magisterdamm, Sch. III (Grand Sire: VA Max della Loggia dei Marcanti)

Sire (Father): VA Neptun von Bad-Boll, Sch. III (Grand Sire: VA Jeck von Noricum)

I don't have photos of Achilles through the internet, but you can see his parents at; they're the second couple in the middle of the page.

Aren't the parents gorgeous? So you can just imagine how their puppy looks; extrapolate from photos here. Perhaps something like the two in the third photo down after the header "MORE HAUS BREZEL PUPS."


Then, because Moi lives on a mountain, I'm now having deer fencing built to create a paddock for them where they'll be separated from the coyotes, big deer, a mountain lion, rattlesnakes, wild turkeys, porcupines, skunks, looooooong-eared wabbits and other wild animals.

Aaaaahhhh yes. Hermit Poetics in the making.....The Angel is preparing her h(e)aven .... stocking where her ark landed with animals (a second German Shepherd is a real possibility) .... a place where gods shall never betray -- what poems might come from such a place?

posted by EILEEN | 12:13 AM

Wednesday, November 26, 2003  


Thanks for the attention Nick and Tom.

Tom, I am -- hard to believe -- almost speechless over your paragraphs; so stunned I can't even preen. Let me just say they mean much to me as I know you are a painter as well as a poet, di ba? Salamat.

posted by EILEEN | 11:00 PM


Yum Yum. The adobo party continues its crescendo towards December 8. Today: Jodie Reyes!! With his Italian version and my French appropriation, we've got European representation! (Tho I've lost track: did someone say spam adobo? And I do mean SPAM, not spam!)

And Barbara of the former Had Nothing To Say Blog (yeah, right) continues salivating over adobo (why do I sense seduction poetics lurking here, sweetie?)

But fer crissakes Tatang! Cat fucking adobo? There is indeed a story re Sophie -- or rather non-Sophie -- coming up in a brewing post. But it's not because I ate the cat -- cat pulutan? That's just plain obscene. Worse than that -- I've been meaning to chime in on earlier pinoy posts: ULO NANG ASO!!!???? (although, cackle: I do lub dat inside flip joke y'all!).


Okay. For kicks -- here's an offer: The first non-Filipino to e-mail moi that s/he knows what we Filipino bloggers have been tsismising about as regards ULO NANG ASO will get a bundle of fabulous poetry books as a prize.

posted by EILEEN | 8:12 PM


Well. Now that "great sex" is over, Moi returns online in time to field this letter from moi boy and super-dooper poet Paolo Javier. Paolo writes Mama (that's Moi to youse):

Dear Superfriendz:

I know a lot of the critics have been praising this film (for the most part), but don't be deceived--"The Last Samurai" is an offensive, orientalist nightmare. While most levelheaded people already took this for granted (Tom Cruise clad in samurai armor? & it's NOT a comedy??), I actually thought I'd give the film the benefit of the doubt, esp since the free screening I attended was offered by ACV. Well, I'm not here to state the obvious, but rather to discourage you all from supporting this film. Spend your hard-earned money on something else this Thanksgiving weekend! Just read the following CASTING CALL for the film:

"Casting beautiful Asian women for Warner Bros.' The Last Samurai PremiereAfter-party to be held in Westwood on Dec 1st.. Women will be dressed as village women from the film's wardrobe department and mingle 'in character'through the party, helping to create the ambience of ancient Japan, circa 1870's. There is no pay, but a chance to be part of this year's biggest Hollywood premiere with a guest list including Tom Cruise and the rest of The Last Samurai's fantastic cast!!

If interested please forward a picture and information ASAP to:

Cheryl Rave
Entertainment Producer
Warner Bros. Special Events
(818)954-3549 phone
(818)954-3011 fax"

(taken from the blog:

Now I don't wanna spoil "TLS" for everyone (it does a good job on its own doing that, believe me), so for those of you who are planning to see it, STOP READING HERE. For those curious to receive the gist of the plot, please read on! & get a sense of why I think the film's title ought to be changed to "AMERICA'S FIRST ASIAN FETISHIST".




1) WHITE MAN (Cruise, playing a general) slaughters a village of innocent "redmen", then, feeling guilty about his actions, looks to atone for his sins in a foreign land,

2) namely Japan. Taken captive by the samurai, he learns the Way of the Warrior, & decides he wants to be one of them. Then,

3) WM gets to live in the house of the family of the samurai leader he'd killed in battle prior to his captivity, but for some magical reason the children of the slain man take a quick liking to him. Not only that,

4) but the slain man's widow finds herself attracted to WM. To add insult to the husband's memory, the widow asks WM to wear her hubby's armor in the final climactic battle between the samurai & the emperor's army. Then,

5) WM is not only able to regain his honor on the field of battle, but also gets to enjoy the spectacle of the emperor's army falling tearfully on their knees in reverence of his heroic actions (actual scene, y'all). Oh, & in case I forget--WM is the ONLY survivor on the samurai side. Then,

6) he is able to sway the emperor away from his most trusted advisor, & to assist in the emperor's decision over the future of the land. Then, looking forward to a life of peace in the country, WM retires

7) to the village of the (now obliterated) samurai army, where he finally gets to shack up with the widow, who is overcome with joy at his return.


Now. The Angel's span is so expansive she can even be ... pragmatic. As we say in poetics: cultural capital is not agreement; it's attention. That is, I'm aware that press, even bad press, might actually increase attendance for a movie -- but Moi figures that if you are aware of the concerns in Paolo's letter, it at least may affect your reception of the movie as something that's not just entertainment...

Peace, y'all.

posted by EILEEN | 9:57 AM


Thanks to Guillermo for sharing Stephen Spender this morning. Seems timely to so many issues being discussed nowadays, like when Spender says:

"If poets are associated with madness it is because some poets have inhabited a world of their own metaphors, taking them quite literally."


From more than one blog pops up the issue of the reality of words (or lack thereof). This is a different issue, of course, from implications of appropriation...although related. But the notion of whether words have meaning is different from how speakers colonize others...


When one writes a poem from hate, it's not surprising when it's a bad poem (which is not to say a good poem is possible....of course "bad" vs "good" are terms I'ma using here simply for curatorial convenience as...uh, this is a post off-the-cuff...)


The advantage -- and disadvantage -- of opposition poetics is that the author doesn't have to think, merely react.


Common sense is that the appropriator proclaims "freedom of speech" while those being appropriated protest. What's (often) not common sense is for the former to act all aggrieved when faced with said protest -- unless one is so super-needy for attention that one no longer discriminates among various types of attention.


To love is to appropriate. But that's not the only kind of love.


I often wonder whether peeps who confuse words with physical acts aren't getting enough sex. Or enough great sex.


I should get offline as I don't get great sex online.

posted by EILEEN | 8:54 AM