Catching Up with Mark Dimaisip

Mark Dimaisip is a Filipino poet from Manila. His works have appeared in The Brasilia Review, Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, harana poetry, Human Parts, Quarterly Literary Review Singapore, Radon Journal, The Saltbush Review, Strange Horizons, and elsewhere. He was recognized by Oxford Brookes International Poetry Competition, has spoken word tracks in Bigkas Pilipinas, and has performed for slams and literary festivals in Southeast Asia and Australia including Filipino ReaderCon, Lit Up Asia-Pacific Festival, Numera World Poetry, Performatura, and Ubud Writers & Readers Festival. You can find links to his work at markdimaisip.carrd.co.

Mark is the author of “The Experience Machine” from Issue 9 and "Loose Limits" from Issue 5.

Mark’s first Radon interview can be read here.

Q: In our last interview, we talked about the goals you have for your poetry journey. How have these goals evolved for you since 2023?

My goals are the same. Write more. Publish more. Perform more. But I think it’s the process that has changed a bit. I’m using poetry now to better understand myself.

I’m not sure if it’s because I’m about to turn 40, but my poetry has been much more and more introspective than it was a few years ago. While I’ve been mostly using writing to find joy, tapping into any inspiration that comes my way, I find myself writing more and more now to unearth a lot of the things I have not processed yet about my past, especially childhood memories.

I’ve always found poetry cathartic, but even more so now than ever.

Q: “The Experience Machine” is incredibly lyrical and has a palpable rhythm and momentum to its structure. Do you think your experience with spoken word poetry manifested in “The Experience Machine?”

Definitely! Spoken word taught me to create a beginning, middle, and end. How to build up to a crescendo and how to string words together that will sound good on paper and on stage.

When I first started writing “The Experience Machine,” I had a clear vision of what hallucinations the persona would have, or would want to have. I tried to imagine someone who is having flashes during a near death experience. Then I tried to answer the question: What if someone who is about to die gets to choose the last few experiences they relive before they go?

Then the images followed. Then the sounds. I would imagine how I might perform the poem on stage. What phrases and words to pair and parallel to create some sort of melody. What movements and delivery to best convey the spirit of the poem.

Q: What thematic parallels do you see between “Loose Limits” from Issue 5 and Issue 9’s “The Experience Machine?”

I first wrote “The Experience Machine” in 2018. At that time, I was writing a series of poems based on thought experiments like The Trolley Problem, Theseus’ Ship, Schrödinger's Cat, The Infinity Hotel, etc. But like most of my poems, it sat on my drafts folder for years. What I have published in Radon has gone over a handful of workshops and dozens of revisions.

I first wrote “Loose Limits” in 2022 as a response to a prompt where we were asked to string together random facts into a poem. Black holes and dopamine addiction were included in the original prompt, and the rest are items from memory. Like “The Experience Machine,” it took a while for me to release it to the world.

The intention when I wrote the two poems were very different, but I think discontentment echoes in both poems. First one is about a dying man who wants more time, more experiences, more memories, while the latter is more overt about how everything in the universe, both organic and inorganic, sentient and unfeeling, is destined to desire for more, more, more.

Q: How do you balance structure and spontaneity when creating a poem?

I have so many bad first drafts and some poems would take a lot of revisions before I would even consider submitting it to a literary magazine. The truth is, I don’t have a definite process and I just do everything by trial and error.

Spontaneity always comes first. I let it take center stage then let the poem sleep and ferment for a while.

Then structure happens after. I keep revising while asking questions. Does this sound good? Does this make sense in the universe where it sits? Does the language flow with the images it is creating?

Q: For poets looking to get into live performance of their page work, what tips do you have?

Just start. Just do. Then observe the response of the audience. Where in the poem do they react more? Where do they seem more attentive? Ask for feedback from people, especially from the ones who you think are doing well.

The most hurtful feedback I received was the most helpful one. Back in 2016 when I was just starting out, a more experienced performer asked me if I was bored while I was performing. He told me that I looked and sounded bored, which made him bored.

In truth, I was rushing in performing some of the lines in my poem then, to get to the lines that I like more. The audience can see through it, and the lines I don’t perform with gusto translate bad on stage.

Since then, whenever I rehearse performing a poem, I pay attention to what lines I don’t make an effort in performing, and which lines I put more attention to. It helped me edit and tighten my poems.

Later on, I would do the same even for poems I intended for the page. I would read them out loud and let the sound help me through the revision process.

Q: How do you conceive of the interplay between your poetry and your work in the Communications field? How do you balance your creative energy between the two?

My day job sits in the intersection of Employee Experience Design and Employer Branding. The first one requires me to listen and use feedback to improve and iterate employee experiences. The latter asks me to tell these stories in the best way possible.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t usually drain my creative energy much. Most of the time, my work is about interpreting data, creating solutions and prototyping until we get things right, which is usually more logical, structured and process-oriented.

From time to time I get to design interactive art installations, or write long form essays, or stitch together a video content, but this usually happens every few months and not everyday.

It’s a blessing that when I end my shift, my logical/structured part of the brain is exhausted, and when inspiration kicks in, during the ride home or on a lazy weekend, the creative part which was resting for most of the day comes out and takes over.

Q: Although you write a good bit of speculative poetry, your poetry spans genres. What is your relationship to genre?

I grew up cutting out science trivia from newspapers, and reading and listening to horror stories. Even my poems as a kid will either have fantastical elements or a science angle to it.

I also keep a journal when I was in high school. Since I attended a catholic school, we are asked to have weekly reflections on the gospel reading on sunday mass. While I consider myself agnostic now, the technique stayed with me and I always try to inject an insight in every poem.

Q: Are there any new themes or forms you’re hoping to explore in your future work?

I’m scared of meter. I tried writing villanelles and sonnets and they were all disasters. Even my attempts at ghazals never left the draft stage.

But every few months I catch myself trying. Maybe one day I’ll publish something that rhymes.

Q: You work in branding for your day job. For a poet looking to better brand themselves and stand out, what suggestions do you have?

While I consider myself skilled in employer branding, I don’t think I am skilled in personal branding. I haven’t even thought deeply about how I should brand myself as a poet.

But I guess that’s what good branding is. It should already be there. It should be effortless and whatever narrative you want to convey is not a hard sell. I guess if you keep true to yourself and your art, the hard part of branding is done.

Secure the basics. Create a page where you can list all your poems. Post links to your work in all your social media accounts. Say yes to poetry readings and interviews. Find a tribe, or expand your circle if you already have one. Be reachable and visible.

Then ask people what they think about you. Ask them what they think about your poems. Listen to feedback. Take them in. And from there find the intersection of what you still want to accomplish. Imagine yourself in a few years. Imagine your dream projects done. This sweet overlap of what already is and what else is to come. This is your brand.