Interpretation of Jamie Jacinto's Poems

Sorrie I haven’t been keep up with my blogging lately. Here’s my deal with Jamie Jacinto’s poems.

(On Tongue Tied by Jamie Jacinto)

I was particularly drawn to this poem for its clever way talking a familiar scene Filipinos back home are all familiar with, their experience when talking their native language at school , and using it to make a statement about our culture being suppressed. Powerful imagery blankets the poem, particular the ends of it beginning with “Being tongue tied is what they liked to teach you” and ending with “until he learns to speak the proper language, those words that buried our native tongue.” So tough, so rough, so true. I could just imagine the Brothers from La Salle smiling sadistically as they torture their students into a hellish submission of English, knowing full well what impact that would have on the populace.
Of course, what’s sad about this is what Jaime decides to avoid – that most Filipinos not only are subjected to this treatment but are usually acceptant of it as well.
(Sorrie if this offends anyone affiliated with the Brothers of Christian Schools but kids from my school always had this thing against La Salle. Or anything Augustinian… or Dominican.)

(On the Passengers by Jamie Jacinto)

I personally liked this poem for it encapsulates exactly how most immigrants feel when leaving for the states. They are oblivious to what is in store for them, as clearly seen when the guy wears a business suit that he rarely wears in hot, muggy NAIA,. They reminisce about who and what they are leaving behind like when he sees the smoke as ghosts and remembers the perfume of his aunties. And finally, they know that they wouldn’t be the first ones leaving for good, and surely not the last. Simple yet on point.

(On Airport Lounge by Jamie Jacinto)

I like the imagery of smoke Jacinto uses in this poem. He used it in the Passengers as well to describe the ghosts on the tarmac. Smoke is particularly interesting in that it lies between what’s concrete and what’s abstract. You would see it vaguely but when one reaches out to it, it melts away. Jacinto equates the smoke to the woman’s memory of her hubby, someone that remains vaguely in her mind but is as elusive as smoke. Beautiful.