The battlefield in my headis littered with the loversI’ll never bed, let alone wedSee me ride the light of loveTo a place inside his heartFalling below the mists, undertowSinging the praises of an unknown soldier,Broken apart by the promise of releaseFight with me, beside me, inside meBehind me, roller-coaster ride meTouch me with your lettersLet’s…
We practiced our haibun in my grad school poetry class. This was my result. The tsinelas on my feet do not protect me from the grains of sand. My mother’s pale skin is a gentle reminder for me to protect my face from the sun, so I don’t get tan like my ancestors. But the…
Where are you from, a person is often asked.Where indeed? I have no answer. My eyes are slanted, but I’m not Oriental.I’m not a rug, don’t tread on me.My jeans are Levi’s, but I’m not a stadium.Don’t play games with me.My feet are blistered, but I don’t wear high heels.I can walk on broken glass.…
In response to Lâm Thị Mỹ Dạ’s Bomb Crater Sky. Dad served two tours in the war,a media circus of Ohio hippies andescapes from Saigon via helicopterLit by the fireworks on the nightly news,gilded in the blood of the conscripts,photographed by Leica. Building roads as a Seabee,cleaning the mud caked on his boots with gasolineThe…
Surviving is a verbLiving is tooBreathing, smelling, touchingWords that imply movementI’ve not stopped movingSince yesterdayWhenever that was. Wish I could stop timeThe rat raceAgingDeathSexTaxes Memento mori, Latin’Remember you will die’Keep that hubris in checkWe’re all born to dieA monied deathIf you didn’t buy it,you’re the product. Can’t stop, won’t stopWe don’t even know how to…
One of our in-class poetry prompts was to take a translated poem and translate it in our own way. I chose Salma Khadra Jayyusi’s A Tale. I have no father-in-lawI’m sure he existsHe sleeps, fucks my mother-in-law(Hopefully she’s a nice lady and will treat me well)He showers, and is a good Christian. A good Christian…
You buy clothes you never wearTo impress people who don’t careYou can’t speak in front of crowdsYou should get your head checkedYou have blisters on your heelsFrom shoes that refuse to be broken inYou wear makeup to even out your tanCertainly not to impress a manYour mirror reflection of selfDoesn’t match the one insideYou sing…
Poems gush out my fingertipsWritten carefully in bloodTattooed on my skinThe original sinSapphire blueCrimson redFetch me a napkinSharpen the quillPumice the momentsLovely bops of clarity’Cause nothing elsein this damn worldmakes a lick of sense.
Pink colored chlorophyllSunshine blue markerConcrete easelAnother one Eurydice walkaboutUnder the jazz promenadeBeatrice says helloMeasure for measure A forest lies honestlyMirrors seek wrinklesPresidential silenceElephantine stretch
The stars in the skiesDripped into your eyesLike the beautiful onesHold you when you’re done. I’m in this for loveNot procreationFallen angels, righteous sinsRaptured in misdirection. Baby it’s youIt’s always been youFrom the moment I breathedYou in like a fogTrip me in the darkAnd into your arms. And another onePound me like a drumBrush the…