Proverbs in conflict - the A and B side of everything

Proverbs are short pithy household sayings that have been handed down from generation to generation. They express truth in common sense and hit practical precepts.

I remembered to have read a book back in high school about these comical- conflicting advice, figured to share this post to get your take and maybe apply these wise words (whichever suits you) on your everyday dealings. Read on.

Actions speak louder than words.
but
The pen is mightier than the sword...

The more, the merrier.
but
Two's company; three's a crowd...

Opposites attract.
but
Birds of a feather flock together...

Great minds think alike.
but
Fools seldom differ...

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
but
Out of sight, out of mind...

The bigger, the better.
but
The best things come in small packages...

Money Talks.
but
Talk is cheap...

Clothes make the man.
but
Don't judge a book by its cover...

Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.
but
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth...

A silent man is a wise one.
but
A man without words is a man without thoughts...

Knowledge is power.
but
Ignorance is bliss...

Two heads are better than one.
but
If you want something done right, do it yourself...

Too many cooks spoil the broth.
but
Two heads are better than one...

What will be, will be.
but
Life is what you make it...

Better to ask the way than to go astray.
but
Ask no questions and hear no lies...

Never do evil, that good may come of it.
but
The end justifies the means...

Cross your bridges when you come to them.
but
Forewarned is forearmed...

The only constant is change.
but
The more things change, the more they stay the same...

Variety is the spice of life.
but
Don't change horses in the middle of a stream...

What's good for the goose is good for the gander.
but
One man's meat is another man's poison...

With age comes wisdom.
but
Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings come all wise sayings...

It's the squeaky wheel that gets the grease.
but
The nail that sticks out gets hammered...

The best things in life are free.
but
You get what you pay for...

It never rains, than it pours.
but
Lightning never strikes twice in the same place...

Everything comes to him who waits.
but
He who hesitates is lost...

Never too old to learn.
but
You can't teach an old dog new tricks...

Practice makes a man perfect.
but
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy...

Message in a Bottle

The Idol

Tonight, not again...

Beneath those glittering lights...
When the veils are up...
Cast a face with all these people...

The songs i'll sing, will come mystical to these innocents; as if all a belying victim to the devil; all trapped lambs for the butcher.

Tonight, not again...
I'll drown my sorrows in the incense of liquor cocktails...
Savor the scent of women, whose laughter and company, a relief for the yoke;
then live each moment for only tonight...

I'll mutter pleasantries again, in malignant conversations with whom the twist of my tongue means cancer...
Then laughter... the best kept reprise for this hollow drifting log.

Tonight, not again...
I'll become someone who I know I'm not...

Jasmin Uy

Message in a Bottle

Writing Exercise 46- Wordplay

This one's from Mark:

Visit http://wordsmith.org/anagram/ and enter your full name to generate a list of anagrams. Now choose one of the anagram results as your title and use it as an inspiration for a poem, short story, or essay. Word count should not exceed 350 words.

Read my piece taken from my anagram below:

Am Van Jig Root

Am Van Jig Root, the fabled root of the south
Is most sought after by men for it’s favored broth
Just a sip or two from its boiled stock, is like mana from heaven
And will leave you with a bull’s rage

An aphrodisiac to some, the most effective cure to others
Such revered is this herb, lest it could only be a myth
For no one has seen it…

In stories of the old, of legends and folklore;
You’ll need to climb mountains and dare deep crevasses to prune it, exactly at the sun set.
Legend has it that if you do have gotten hold of one, you must never take your eyes off from it;
Lest the moment you let it out of your sight, It will vanish to thin air.

Many have tried to find the Am Van Jig Root
Rich and poor, young and old alike;
Some on horses and mules, others on monstrous machines,
They bring plows and wonderful tools;

Gallant looking they are at first as they took on the mountains;
One minute proud, but weary cord tired faces at the last.

Once a foolish youth did the inevitable, the herb he tried to find;
A drunkard’s challenge, by the village inn;
Out of folly and merriment, a bet out of too many a sip
To the bartender he made a truce
Such is the lot, he drank whilst he did not paid;

He made the journey one dawn’s crisp air,
With nothing but himself along, which was too drunk to even care
He looked back to see peregrine cold faces,
As he took the strides...

Days went by, with no news of his travel
Without a mumble, heads bowed thinking it was failure;

Then came a dawn after a hundred suns
The boy did return, now a ruggedly clothed old man
With a grin he gave, to the awe agape bartender; the herb

How he did it, A secret that beats the hell out of you and me
But one thing I will do share... that old man here is me…

Message in a Bottle

Writing Exercise- Strictly Dialogue

This dialogue exercise evolved from a previous one by Luida. It involves writing something that is made up ENTIRELY OF DIALOGUE, but in short story form (NOT MORE than 350 words). That means, you absolutely CANNOT adapt the format of a play (e.g. JUAN: Good morning...). Also, you absolutely CANNOT use speech modifiers (e.g. ...said Juan, Juan said...).

Your piece should be made up entirely of sentences in quotation marks. And your piece must reveal something about the characters, the setting and the conflict/plot only through dialogue. A tip: One way to distinguish each character is to make them sound unique in their lines of dialogue, that way your reader won’t be confused who’s saying what.

Below is my piece, about soldiers trapped in a war.

Defeat and Malaria
(341 words)

“Get up soldier, for Christ’s sake, gather your remaining strengths and belt the enemy until the last round of your ammos!”

“I’d surely fight any day with you sarge, but this damn fever’s creeping in my gut. I’m getting weak with every passing minute, here.. aghh… Do you see my fuckin’ hands? God I’m too damn weak to even raise my rifle… slim chance support will get here. It’s all hopeless sarge, better to be holed up in this damn trench than be butchered above.”

“Do you hear yourself saying that soldier? I can shoot you here right now for uttering that… You used to be a ruthless soldier George, who’ll never think twice to fuck up fear into the enemy’s gut…. think soldier, how many battles we’ve won for home, sure as hell I am not gonna go down here without a fight!... Sam... Go up there and man the machine gun!, Damn mortar rounds are now dropping and the skinnies are inching us by the left flank…Don’t just stand there, maybe this’ll make you… I am not gonna think twice to shoot soldier, so do as you’re ordered!”

“Sarge… Aghh… Sergeant Buck! We’re all gonna die here, I’m telling ya…fighting this stupid war that’s not even ours to fight... we’ve been herded to the slaughter.”

“Get a hold of yourself soldier and fight, support’s gonna be here any minute now so we’ll have to hang on tight.”

“Really sorry sir, but ill just be here and wait for my time as with the others…We’re a brigade when we came here…now we’re reduced to a handful…The enemy was not even upon us then… Aghhh…stupid fever’s eating us one by one…”

“Goddamit soldier, don’t make me shoot you! Do as I say or ill have your head on a platter!”

“This is madness sarge…might as well shoot you to get through your fuckin’ brick head…give me a reason to shoot you… I just want to die in peace, can’t you see that? now go and leave me here to die... please…”

Message in a Bottle

Writing Exercise- Personality sketch in 200 words

Imagine a life cut short into 750-1500 words. This is a writing technique called the personality sketch, which is commonly used for feature writing in paperbacks but has gained popularity in more mainstream media such as newspapers, magazines, periodicals, etc. Here’s an example of a special section published in the New York Times featuring the lives of people who died during the September 11 terrorist attacks.

Choose a person that you know (or create one using your imagination) and write a glimpse of his or her life, personality, idiosyncrasies, etc. Personality sketches usually use anecdotes, direct quotations, physical description, etc., but for the purpose of this writing activity, we can be more “creative” or “imaginative.” Write as you please, and introduce us to that person in no less than 200 words. :P

Below is my piece about a local musician's alterno life.


Julian Sev

Julian was a musician by the core, living and struggling in daylight at a local fast food chain and traversing the now diminishing city bars at night.

For years the downside of the local music industry has gotten into his thoughts and that earning a lump sum from it is always impossible. Sometimes he earns and sometimes he won’t, still he shrugs off that it’s another day to live by.

A musician’s life here in Cebu is uncertain, that he knows now, for no matter how hard he tries and just how focused he is, it’s always a struggle. The next best thing he thought his band could do is to move to Manila and gamble their chances for a break there.

“He’s always spending his time with his band after work and come home drunk on late nights. He just doesn’t have time for us anymore; I think he already has forgotten his duties with our children! I heard he has a relationship with some woman he met after a gig and that he’s now into drugs. That I don’t know if I’ll believe or not. It’s his stupid belief that someday his music will get him and his band far, but the way I see it all their efforts are in vain. It may even be a miracle if we’ll have a decent meal tonight.” His wife Sheree sobs.

Before the band, Julian Sev in his mid- 20’s and a father of 2 great kids, used to be just a reminiscent young man, an engineer by profession and an idealistic family man who always maintain a balance between his hectic schedule of work and quality time. His life made a 360 degree turn when he started a band along with Ernest and Neil. They took on the local music scene thinking that they’ll get somewhere…

Message in a Bottle

The Clandestine - (Writing Exercise: Truth)

Supposing a drunk sits next to you in a bar, thinks you are his or her close friend and starts confessing “the truth.” Write about what “the truth” is in at least 200 words.

Capping my Friday night off the counter, downing 3 cold bottles of beer, I decided this is just one of those nights.

The dimly lit tavern, eyes blinking to the sound of blunt sonatas disturbed once in a while by the laughter of eager individuals relieving their troubles away with restless company.

Drinking my second bottle, I turned around to see who among the populace am I sitting with- but all I can see are silhouettes illuminated by the pale light.

Leaning over to reach for my wallet to pay the sarcastic new bartender who’s constantly eyeing me as if I will scram the minute I’ll stand.

Just then a hand patted mine. I looked up to see a stranger, who’s seemed to have gotten loaded somewhere, looking like an executive but smelling puke and with the look from his sleeves, obviously went through a beating.

Not to be rude and the affable person that I am, I begged pardon and asked who he is and motioned him to take a seat. Maybe I’ve known him from somewhere but I just couldn’t remember…with a rolling gait, he sat down.

He said in a freaky voice…"I am Randy (Hik) and you are Albert (Hik)… the awesome duo who always owns the night!” No I retorted, I’m Jovir and I don’t know you bai…you might have mistaken me for somebody else… He just smiled and pressed a finger in a hush and with a husky voice this time, spoke up “Bartender…bai, I’d like two more bottles of Red Horse kanang bugnaw kaayo” he calls him.

Turning freaky again, “Not another word from you, but did you remember our night out with Frank and Colleen? Jeez, I just don’t know how to say to her face that I'm gay! I mean just being there with the two of them, I just can’t bear looking at frank; my, the look of those muscles took me away for good. I just don’t know how to say this straight to Colleen that I just don’t love her; how with her every caress I long for Frank’s instead. This is what keeps bugging me; maybe you can help me out.

Noticing the situation and realizing evil fun with free beers. I just patted him and quipped “Ow Randy sometimes it’s just easier to let go and tell the truth. After all, it’s your life and your happiness that’s at stake here, better let it go!” all the while motioning him to go on.

“(Hik) You know what bert, I have sinned against my wife big time and I just couldn’t bear the truth of her reaction that her perfect husband is not all whom she thinks! You know what, me and Frank made it out tonight in his car. I had the time of my life when that pun of his made it through, how big as well, felt like my rear’s gonna explode and it’s still aching until now! I know you’ll drool when you’ll see it, but I’m certainly not sharing it with you!”

Nodding my head in sheer amusement with the things I heard, all the while gulping another bottle given by the bartender. I figured not to go on with the conversation so I’ll never hear more of his silly revelations but no, for he uttered further.

“How about we go to the restrooms (Hik) and I’ll let you feel the hole he’s made, I'm sure you’ll love it”

That’s it I’ve had enough…

Message in a Bottle

Writing Exercise: Creative Description (Lechon Cebu!)

Figured to share with you a recent exercise we've had in the writer pool- that's all about creative description. We were given the task to talk about our favorite dish and describe as to why we like it without using adjectives traditionally associated with food. e.g: mouth watering, luscious etc.

The challenge was to come up with a creative way of describing food in 300 words minimum with a 1 hour window. Below is what i did for my part.

Lechon Cebu. I like it because of its meticulous preparation; which is set far apart from the traditional Spanish, Cantonese, and ordinary Filipino recipes.

The mixture of herbs and spices truly come alive the moment a Lechon Cebu is hauled from crimson burning charcoals cooked to perfection under bamboo crisscrosses, served with coconut vinegar, soy sauce and laden with blazing- hot Labuyo chillis.

The fat brown goodness holding an apple in its mouth, all crouched in a wooden tray coupled with its pungent yet pleasant whiff always never fail to lure whenever I’m in functions or in celebrations.

So enticing that it makes me automatically wanting to grab a plate and take a piece of it even in a boodle fight!

With every begotten slice- which in my case, comprise a large portion of the ever crusty skin near the mid section all the way to ribs, the sight of the brittle brown crust, syrupy and fair white meat underneath gives a flare to my eyes and rumble to my belly, giving my senses the stern announcement that another good thing (let alone the health complications and conscience breaking news which will soon follow if I ate too much) is rounding up the corner and coming their way.

The moment I take a bite, the burst of zest coming from the mixture of essences off the herbs and spices- which has now seeped through the meat after the long and rigorous cooking process truly lingers around my tongue and makes me want to take some more.

Such is the effect of Lechon Cebu for me that it has become quite my fancy even in hangouts with friends.

Conversations with Lechon Cebu and bottles of beer on the side, marks reward for camaraderie and pleasantries. With every bite and every sip, a companion for a good tete-a-tete among peers whenever, wherever.

Message in a Bottle

The Day before Yesterday (Global warming)

In the writer's pool we're given out another exercise this time in the field of poetry. Below is my expression on my fears of the adverse effects of global warming. Cheers.


It was inevitable. Armageddon has already left his pedestal and is now on his way. Whilst I see the large clouds now converging into a massive funnel of destruction magnified ten fold the damage and speed, I know he’s near and no one knows it but me.

The wise of long ago gave out the warning; they’ve made out the signs. But still the world will not listen and people continued their resilient ways.

From every man made contraption, the dissipate was abruptly given back to Gaia. In her immortality and mighty splendor, she succumbed to her failing health and is now giving us back what we deserved- her anger and punishment.

I watched, a hermit trapped behind the iron curtain of this god forsaken cave while the rest of the world lay sleeping without the knowledge of tonight’s looming catastrophe.

I’ve traveled the world and raised my voice to the busy multitude but everyone it seems, is just too engrossed to listen.

Then as I’ve fallen asleep sitting on this chair, the vision of tonight’s ordeal- blurry at first but suddenly became vivid with death as scenes of Oceans and rivers rising with people crushed after every passing wave, icy rain and colossal cyclones blasting across the now frozen lands.

All these ended with complete silence and darkness as black clouds blot out the sun…

I screamed upon seeing the sight but it seems I can’t hear my voice, I feel the pain and the loss but then I turned to look behind me after hearing a scream behind my ear that sounds too familiar to ignore. “Mata na oi,udto na!”

Whew, thank goodness its ma! Hmm, weird dream… Was it a scene from the movie The day after tomorrow? Looks kinda’ but I don’t think so... Not really.

Writing exercise: Writing in Persona

In our recently concluded writing exercise for the writer pool, we were asked to put ourselves in the persona of either a Deaf, Mute, Deaf-mute, Cripple or Blind person. We were then asked to write a poem or prose about a great experience in our lives and how we went through that experience under the disability we've chosen, at 200 words minimum.

Below is my piece. I've chosen a persona of a Deaf-mute.

***

In silence I wept but clinching my fists I rose and slammed my knuckles straight to those weary concrete walls…

Feeling the jabbing pain and the sight of my blood, brushing aside teardrops of anguish, shouts of agony, savoring the irony that you have given me.

This wall has always been my comfort and my refuge after what you have done to me, yet I cannot raise my voice and I cannot hear what you say, all that I can give is my smile, shed a tear, or in mere action I can only express what I feel, abiding with innocence to what is happening around me. When my days seemed so long with you… Inside I’m wishing it will always be this way.

I remembered that this wall laid witness to our bitter sweet memories together, the fun times we’ve had in the past along with our friends

We ran together, we’ve fallen, we’ve laughed. You heard my first laugh here or so it seemed to you; but to me it was only grunts and a pinch in my chest… a renewed feeling because I was happy.

Then that fateful day did came, seeing you play with our friends, I sat down behind this wall taking a peek every now and then to see your smile. All for me has changed; seeing everyone’s faces and laughter. I can make out reading your lips that you were mocking, strange… I could make out that everyone was mocking me and laughing with content.

Slowly I turned and ran the other way to hide by the comforts of my room vowing to never see you again.

Yet you followed. Teary eyed, you grabbed my hand and eased me down to talk, but all was lost for me that day and it seems it will always be.

Inside I felt helpless with treason and pity with which I was borne unto this world, lesser the boy I wished that I could be.

When all you thought that your mere words cannot work out, you showed me a heart sign and went your way…

I cuddled in my bed the whole time; everyone was bewildered by my strange actions.
I tried to sleep but thinking about the wall, sneaked out, surprised to see the sight.

You’ve left your wooden horse for me with ribbons and all, which I remembered was your most prized possession and beside it a note that you wrote. A Strange token. I opened my mouth to utter the words that are in my heart, but only oblivious silence can I hear... I will remember this night. I will never forget you...

Message in a Bottle