George Bradford Patterson II
George Bradford Patterson is a North American originally from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He is currently residing in the Philippines finishing his Ph. D dissertation in “TURN-TAKING IN ENGLISH CONVERSATION IN SMALL GROUP DISCUSSIONS at the University of the Philippines, Diliman in the College of Education in the Language Area. He has a Masters Degree in Teaching English as a Second Language from Rutgers – The State University of New Jersey from the Graduate School of Education , Dept. Language and Learning in New Brunswick in May, 1982. He also did his BA in January, 1974 at Temple University, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA. Later, he did a post graduate major in Spanish. He has taught EFL/ESL in Colombia, Peru, Mexico, Honduras, China, and Korea in universities, language institutes, binational centers, and international school. He is also a bilingual poet, having published two books of poetry – ODE TO ISLA NEGRA; PURPLE MELODIES: ODES & SONGS – in Spanish in Santiago, Chile in August, 1991 & April, 1992 through the Editorial Fertil Provincia and one book of bilinguial book of poetry in English and Spanish – BLOSSOMS AT EDSA 2 – in the Philippines in CUBAO,QUEZON CITY IN 2004 . He and Cyberwitnet co-published another book of selected poems -SELECTED POEMS OF LOVE, LIBERATION, & BEAUTY – written by him in Allahabad, UP , India in November, 2007. In addition, CERAFIC PRESS, based at #1-A McDivitt Ext., Barangay Culiat, Dona Faustina Village 1, Tandang Sora, Quezon City, Metro Manila, Philippines published IN 2009 another book of selected poems – POEMS OF LOVE, LIBERATION, & BEAUTY: NEW & COLLECTED – written also by George Bradford Patterson II .
He is also a short writer and essayist and has traveled, worked, and studied in the Philippines, China, Thailand, Singapore, India, Bangladesh, Hong Kong, Mexico, Colombia, Brazil, Dominican Republic, Honduras, Argentina, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Peru. Moreover, He and Cyberwit.net co-published a book of selected prose – SELECTED SHORT STORIES , ESSAYS, & VIGNETTES FOR PEACE, JUSTICE, & ; RECONCILIATION.
MY NEXT BIRTHDAY
By George Bradford Patterson II
On my next birthday
we visit Min Young
who by the way he contemplates
shines both serenity and silence.
“To consume ginseng daily
is to grow wiser like the mystics
of temples,” he says. “And one does not need to know
Buddhism to understand Buddha.
One simply glows like the Muse.”
We drink to the Enlightened Man
who lighted a billion candles in us
and ponder the fate of poets in an age of darkness.
Our hearts are red roses, dreaming starry dreams of love,
waiting to be awakened by his incandescent eyes.
Cheongju, Chungbuk, Korea, April 11, 1993
Our Joy of Writing
(to Wislawa Szymborska and Tran Van Dinh)
Why does this written fawn dance through the
written sylvan sanctuaries?
For a sip of written water from a laguna
whose surface will mirror her silky muzzle?
Why does she raise her head; does she hear whispers?
Rested on four lithe legs loaned to her by the truth,
she flaps her ears beneath our fingertips.
Stillness – the word murmurs yet across the page
and leaves the branches
that have sprouted from the word, “woods”.
Reposing in wait, ready to jump on the blank page,
are letters stirring up unrest,
clusters of clauses so restricted
they’ll never allow us to escape.
Each drop of ink holds a sufficient supply
of hunters, fortified with scintillating eyes
behind their sights,
ready to swarm the tilting pen at any time,
encircle the fawn, and slowly point their guns.
They overlook that what’s here isn’’t life.
Other laws, black upon white or green upon brown,
The flashing of an eye will last as long as we agree,
and will, if I wish, separate into little infinities of infinities,
of infinities, of infinities,
full of pellets, suspended in mid-flight.
Not a thing will happen unless we proclaim yes.
Without our blessing, not a petal will fall,
not a reed will wilt beneath
that little foot’s complete stop.
Is there truly a world
where we reign absolutely on vision?
A time we tie with links of signals?
A life becomes eternal at our order?
Our joy of writing.
Our power of sustaining.
Our power of nurturing our mortal hand.
Laur, Nueva Ecija, Philippines, June 7, 2012
COMING HOME AGAIN
(to Francisca Gaspar Lorenzo)
We came home again. Pined purely and wept waterfall.
It was blissfully blue as the azure, yet,
that a lot had changed.
We lay down fully clad.
Pulled the cotton bedspread over our heads.
I’m just past sixty-four, but with much more life.
I live just as I did inside old red barn
still below David’s Star,
dressed in seven chakras with more mantras
in starlight’s home,
whereas she’s just past fifty-one with so much life.
she exists just as she did inside sugar can field
under little stars, twinkling serenely,
clad also in seven chakras with many mantras
in heaven’s house.
Tomorrow I’ll give another meditation on nature’s metaphors,
whereas she’ll meditate on Truth and Love.
For now, though we’ve stretched out
and swayed into our firmament of visions.
Laur, Nueva Ecija, Luzon, Philippines, April, 2012
(to Francisca Gaspar Lorenzo)
Beautiful rosy twilight, effervescing and pulsating,
we see the the rose garden by the arching rainbow:
flashing red roses of our hearts,
ascending to the blue firmament.
the resplendent rays of the tigress
they are brilliant: they embrace us.
and it shines in the night
like the radiance of a ruby.
and it phosphoresces like a ruby rose.
her wine red lips
and they glow like the Earth of Fire.
and afterwards we see her blueness
in the sapphire bliss of doves,
beaming and dreaming,
on a cool night of a yellow moon
full of of whispering winds,
and murmuring streams.
Cabanatuan, Nueva Ecija, Luzon, Philippines, April, 2012
* The Earth of Fire is the English translation from “La Tierra del Fuego”, beautiful place
in southern Chile.
“Our World & Snow”
the chimes of a church bell
& this is what we adored
through the snow
the caress of evening
as if the snowflakes
held the image of God
descending into the world:
Snow flurries & vision
& branches lay ahead
with pine cones glowing
& a simple starlight
danced in the serenity
of the forest
amid embracing moonlight:
& the flakes
of the evening
lit up by archangels, seraphim, & cherubim
hovering around Our Lord Jesus Christ & Our Lady:
& then we adored
God as though our eyes were
with some deep mystery
Church of the Messiah, Gwynedd, Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, USA, 1957
|George Bradford Patterson II has deserved several times First Prize in Poetry in the monthly Poetry Contest by my institution, since he is a distinguished member of Bilingual MCA, in merit of his unique ability to write outstanding poems in both English and Spanish Languages. I learned to appreciate and even admire his particular style entangled by his non reverential mood to see reality. George is that kind of writer who does not know how to disguise ugliness. I feel very identified with this obsession: to confront veracity with a combination of aestheticism and authenticity instead of pretending not to see what Earth is, traveling to nonsense in verses. Nevertheless, he is not only a Truth maker. He turns to be a sophisticated poet with a rare aptitude to create scenes in our mind, and make us travel into a new world, full of awesome sights. George is a messenger of Love, Liberation and Beauty. His soul is appreciative and sensitive towards human troubles and subsidiary to possible solutions for international peace through Love Literature. He is a dreamer, a magician of poetry. One of the best artists of letters worldwide, in the ceilings of Vanguard, the Social Poetry neoclassicism. His writing turns to use both metric and free verses, according to the matter or theme he is developing. He is an open minded author with lyrics enlightened by platonic ideals of Freedom and Justice A perfect lyrical syntaxes and a non stopping rhythm , probably born in his permanence in Philippines , develops his breathtaking, overwhelmingly beautiful prose and a soft, romantic, but at the same time accurate and perceptive poetry. This parallelism between human reality and the lyrical perfection of his work, is a disparity that captivates our admiration. He owns the talent to maintain our interest from the very beginning to the last word since he does never repeat himself in a sequential verse full of clear watery light. This book incarnates magisterially Love in its most compassionate, charitable sense. The author himself is owner of a delicate soul, able to feel sentiments that are only rescued to delight of a few human beings. His personality, is exhibited through these pearls of wisdom, grown up into his poetical mind, from where are thrown in front of our eyes, coming from an emerald sea ornamented with music in words. An incredible symphony is born in our ears while we enjoy any of his delicatessens. (María Cristina Azcona)|
|Books By George Bradford Patterson II|