Column writing and poetry

I had an invitation to two affairs this afternoon, talk to UNO-R journalism students and a poetry reading at La Salle.

I got the UNO-R invitation ahead last week and accepted it. The La Salle invitation came in only Monday and I can’t make it.

They are two things I love most, journalism and poetry. And at La Salle I was asked to read a love poem.

But at UNO-R it has always been my passion to prepare young people to take over a noble profession.

Even in college I was already writing a column called PEENUTS. It’s PEE going nuts. And many liked it because like a society column it mentioned so many names of friends whose legs I pulled. And they enjoyed being pulled.

Many girls liked the column, too, with their names there.

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Writing a column is the highest form of personalized journalism. Where else can you find your name printed in bold letters with your picture?

The selling point of a newspaper is the columns, the name and not the picture. The picture is needed for those who have axes to grind against a mean columnist. This way the columnist is also forced to behave. Otherwise…

* * *

Everybody wants to be a columnist to impose his opinion, wise or otherwise, on the reader. But many have failed. They may be able to write five or ten consecutive columns.

But after one month, one finds out he cannot cope. He can write, yes. But, is he read? If you are not read, you lose interest.

Many columnists, too, make the mistake of giving too much opinion. But even opinions must he well thought of and logically presented and argued. It’s not that easy.

A column likewise must educate. Is there something in your column that will add knowledge to your readers? It must likewise entertain. People never like too serious a column.

* * *

My column writing dates with PeeNuts in the 50s while I was in college to Feedback now. And if there’s one thing that makes me enjoy it almost everyday, it’s when I get feedback, many of them from abroad.

Those at home text me. I publish some. Many I just keep it to myself as many of them tell me their opinion is not for publication.

This column writing had its highest point on June 29, 2000 when the Rotary Club of Manila awarded me as the Most Outstanding Community Journalist. The Manila Rotary Club wrote community newspapers for nominees. What was required was ten columns written by a nominee consecutively the last ten days to the time of the receipt of the letter.

To receive an award from the Rotary Club of Manila is something. But, the best part of that award was check. I got many awards in journalism. None gave money except the Rotary Club of Manila. It was substantial.

* * *

The poetry reading at La Salle has been a very good program. Sometime ago, I was also invited to read a love poem. I recall, I read Scott’s “Lochinvar.”

I was told I will be with my fellow media men Modi Sa-onoy. And while I sent word I could not go because of the affair at UNO-R while finishing this piece, I was informed, it will be moved to tomorrow at the same time. I will be there.

Love poems? I wrote plenty while a young man. But they were burned when our house was burned in 2001. I can still remember some, especially a lament of a love unexpressed for fear it would not be accepted.

The most painful thing is an unrequited love. And don’t you know that when you are in pain you turn out the best verses?

And that makes one a fool. Are poets fools? I like this stanza from Samuel Taylor Coleridge. “I admit, Sir, your general rule/ That every poet is a fool;/ But you yourself have proved it/ That not every fool is a poet.”

Coleridge is a witty poet. I think he was also the one who, on hearing a bad singer in a pub, wrote: “Swans sing before they die/ ‘Tis a given thing/ Would it not be better/ That some people die before they sing.” I hope I got the words right.*

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