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"To read this collection of John Iremil Teodoro’s poems written during his first trip to Europe is to immerse oneself in a world of color, where flowers perpetually bloom; of delicious repasts made by magical hands and a generous heart; of language bewilderment where one syllable made all the difference; but most of all, of love. Written within a time frame of about a month, this collection summarizes the big-eyed wonder of a first-time traveler to the Old World transported from his Kinaray-a and Filipino elements into a dizzying kaleidoscope of surprising, happy encounters. Yet he keeps grounded by the frequent invocation of the familiar in his “beloved archipelago.”"
- ALICE M. SUN-CUA
"Far from the Fatherland, John Iremil Teodoro writes first in his father tongue, Kinaray-a, the language “most natural” for him and converses with his Antique-born niece, Juliet (who migrated to Sweden when she was five), as though it were “an international language!” In “English,” he is asked by an immigration officer in Copenhagen if he is a seaman. In a way he is, for here in Sommarblommor both John and his poetry travel to link the local, the national, and the global through translation in Filipino and English, somehow tracing a virtual route then charted by his late father the seafarer who expertly steered ships through the Suez Canal, and so linked disparate parts of the world.
"Con-verse is an apt term for what his poetry does, for John’s poetry is speech rather than writing. Contrary to the origin of the word, the persona in his poetry wears no mask, for he and his persona are one— and by this John distinguishes himself as the poet who hardly needs to lie to tell the truth. His poems are always conversational, and how he can raise the language of everyday “to the nth power” (Paul Engle) is a feat we can only marvel at as we listen to him speak in tongues and make sense of his life— and ours as well. Although his poems are set in Europe, here we are never too far from the “archipelago of his heart.” So John, “Come here. Teach me the names of the flowers, one by one, with your colorful tongue” (“Språken”/ “Mga Wika”/ “Languages”)."
- ISIDORO M. CRUZ
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