Articles tagged death
15 Results

When You Turn Into Silence: Three Poems By E.J. Koh

By E. J. Koh | February 28, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

The sun sieves through the canopy— / rivers are relenting. My soul seats itself // for the first time. Where it is quiet, it becomes cold. / There is nothing I must do but die— // what joy to let go of all things—what ease to give up.

“Nautical Shrouds”

By Vi Khi Nao | January 24, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘I roam. Sometimes in solitude; sometimes in a crowd. But unlike a dog, I do not die a little each day, subdued to the loyalty of my master. I die all at once if it must be.’

Mr. Nadaraja’s Boy

By Dinesh McCoy | October 28, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Did she look up, see the lettering on his nametag, N-A-D-A-R-A-J-A, and think to herself, “A Tamil I don’t know? In Findlay, Ohio?”

The Day: Poetry by Barbara Jane Reyes

By Barbara Jane Reyes | July 12, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Sometimes you are damaged. You think poetry will repair you. You think poetry should repair you. You shake your fist at it when it doesn’t. You walk hand-in-hand with your damage, into the world. You do not speak. You are surprised when people register you are there.’

Reunion

By Denis Wong | June 17, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Danny’s hands dropped to his knees as he gasped. He felt something…a fist pressed against his face. I’m being punched, he thought as he fell. This is me being punched. It was a familiar feeling. Almost nostalgic.’

Lives You Never Had: Two Poems by Tyler Tsay

By Tyler Tsay | May 3, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop
Tags: , ,

‘the games you played as a child: / cracks breaking bones with every step. alive because / that’s your job.’

Ghost Forest

By Pik-Shuen Fung | March 4, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Say, I’m here, Dad, my mom said. I’m here, Dad, I said. You have to say it louder so he can hear you.’

The Fates: Two Poems by Eddie Kim

By Eddie Kim | February 16, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘There’s a piece of me / that has never been / to this country and another that never left. // I stare at strangers as if they might be friends. // It took three weeks of traveling / before anywhere looked like home.’

Death is a Festival

By Anis Shivani | February 9, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘He knew the genealogies and coats of arms of / all his neighbors, with pride at its right hand and / cruelty at its left’

Flowers of Yarn

By Rowan Hisayo Buchanan | December 16, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

A graphic memoir on ritual and mourning

Timothy Liu: Two Poems

By Timothy Liu | June 2, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Such atonalities / caught floating through four centuries / in flagrant delicto bear witness

Canzone II by Eric Gamalinda

By Eric Gamalinda | April 7, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

I live inside this world that lives inside / me: in this dream, there is nowhere to hide.

Bavarian Forest

By Humera Afridi | September 13, 2014 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Killed by the Gestapo 70 years ago, today, special agent Noorunisa Inayat Khan inspires with messages in code. A reflection and poem.

Apiology, with Stigma and Other Poems

By Sally Wen Mao | June 13, 2014 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

I don’t teach my girls / to brave the violence of sun, sons, or stings. / When resources run out, don’t sit there and behave. / Abandon hive.

Excerpt: ‘The Last Hour of the Bengal Tiger’ from Revenge

By Yoko Ogawa | March 22, 2013 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

“I suddenly noticed an odor in the air. It was sweet and persistent but not at all unpleasant. I took a deep breath and let myself be guided by the smell.”

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