ISBN 971-8967-74-5

Giraffe Books: Quezon City, 1998

 

[from the Dedication]

 

To His Excellency Domingos Lam Ka Tsueng, Bispo de Macau, who generously shared with me the magnificent Bishop’s Palace during the first four months of my two-year mission work in his diocese.

The meals and conversations I had with the reverend bishop are among the fondest memories I have of my life as a young missionary in South China. I will never forget His Excellency’s hospitality, kindness, and gentle, fatherly reproaches.

Once, at the dining table, the blessed bishop noted my clumsy use of the chopsticks. He said, “That’s how you learn to eat with chopsticks. Just pick them up, and forget about ever knowing the fork.” Then, almost philosophically, he added, “True poverty means living within the framework of your current circumstance. It means not having to complain, or to desire what you do not have. Not even for a fork.”

ISBN 971-8967-67-2

Giraffe Books: Quezon City, 1997

 

[from the Foreword]

 

Aside from the magic of poetry, I also wished this book to help you kiss back to life the toes and fingers of your inner child. That’s why I’ve included my computer ikebana, which I enjoyed composing very much. Each little arrangement was meticulously laid out in an atmosphere of play, and with a prayer that your eyes may see the way a child sees. So, if you just pick up that crayon or coloring pen, you may be surprised how much fun it gives to the child-within to color the monosort flowers in this book. I decided to leave out the leaves to your creativity and imagination. I’ve cast the spell. May you have all the fun.

 

[from the Backcover]

 

What has a child that makes her irresistibly lovable? Is it his enviable innocence? Her blatant honestly? His brazen brattiness? Her precocious thoughts? His smart-alecky maneuvers?

Adult/Poet Peter Solis Nery seems to know the answer, and tells us about it through this striptease collection of “poems that came under hypnosis.”

Yes, there is so much joy in this work. And if the first ten poems (and that’s just A and B of what goes up to Z) don’t leave you gasping for breath, you are probably dead already.

ISBN 971-10-1013-5

New Day Publishers: Quezon City, 1997

 

[from the Dedication]

 

Dear reader, I lovingly dedicate this book to your heart. Especially if it feels a kind of restlessness and longing for something greater than what is here and now.

My heart has been wild once, and I could not forget the wonderful beauty of its madness. I want you to share that blissful mystical experience. So with this book, I also give you a gift of wings.

I pray that when you feel a deep stirring to fly to a strange world, the wings of a butterfly won’t fail you. Go, dear reader. Explore, imagine, and fly! But pray you leave behind, for our trails, the magic map of youth and innocence, and the guiding scent of the beautiful.

ISBN 971-10-1012-7

New Day Publishers: Quezon City, 1997

 

[from the Introduction]

 

Shorts are not haikus, although their procedure is derived and based on them. While some shorts are true haikus, they are accidental more than intentional so that they are still better called shorts rather than haikus.

My first serious attempts at haikus followed the traditional mechanics of having the 5-7-5 syllabic pattern, and a clear seasonal reference, in addition to being composed on-the-spot. But it was not long until I surrendered to the free verse school, which feels no obligation to the seventeen-syllable pattern, nor to seasonal references. Still, I largely kept the three-line form, and much of the haiku techniques used by the Japanese masters.

The other thing that disqualifies shorts from being true haikus is their subject. True haikus speak of the lofty ideals, and the Buddhist beliefs associated with Zen enlightenment. They are greatly prized among the Japanese haiku writers. But while I personally take immense pleasure from reading haikus of the great Japanese poets, I also feel a responsibility to celebrate my times (and modern things like factories, automobiles, and skyscrapers) in my poetry.