Articles tagged Poetry Tuesday
94 Results

The Debt of Fish and Ant

By The Transpacific Literary Project | November 14, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

When the tide rises, it is easy for the fish to prey on the ant, but when it ebbs, the fish becomes the ant’s prey.

All Over the Place

By Hazem Fahmy | November 7, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘A week before I graduate, I round up all my femme clothes / and stuff them in the Savers plastic bag / I’d gotten them in.’

So blonde

By Leah Silvieus | October 31, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Mine: thick & black, so coarse / when trimmed, the ends splintered / bare feet.’

The Experiment of the Tropics

By Lawrence Lacambra Ypil | October 31, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

That American thing · The good old good

Hybrid Cookbook: Two Poems

By The Transpacific Literary Project | October 17, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Funny how it ends up that you’re the leftovers.

Process Questions: Two Poems by Karthik Purushothaman

By Karthik Purushothaman | October 10, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Which poem can defeat / the fear of dying / a meaningless death / and how to write that poem / staring into the barrel?’

In The Church

By Rodrigo Dela Peña, Jr.  | October 3, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Pray tell me, how much
are we paying for the sermon?

JFK Airport

By Celina Su | September 26, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘As if I could get un-situated / this airport a bubble hovering / in a void between celestial bodies / in but not of / the country I stand in.’

Where Is

By Lawdenmarc Decamora | September 19, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

showbiz etceteras · commercial spaces · newspapered ideas

accent

By ko ko thett | September 5, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

People judge me by my skin. My skin’s purpose in life is to prove them wrong.

Emptied: Two Poems by Hieu Minh Nguyen

By Hieu Minh Nguyen | August 22, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

There are countless ways / to justify company. Hunger, overdue balance, whatever. / Cartoon savage licking the throne clean. / & isn’t that what you always wanted? / To be filled & emptied?

Document

By Bao Phi | August 15, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

In all the books I love, the hero doesn’t strike first. But then again, none of the heroes look like me.

ASEAN at 50: Poems from Across Southeast Asia

By The Transpacific Literary Project | August 7, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Half a century on, what does it mean to be part of ASEAN?

Azalea Azalea

By Aria Aber | August 1, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

For eleven / years I lied about where I’m from, / ashamed by the music of endings, // that deep hollow bell. How much of my yearly / tax is spent to bomb the dirt / that birthed me?, is a question // I never wanted to consider.

No Radio

By Sokunthary Svay | July 11, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Children are playing soldier. / Fetuses ripped from wombs dangle / in nearby trees. Yet he opened his mouth / and a flood of love melodies poured out.’

it will be too late when i learn the meaning of americanah

By Taeyin ChoGlueck | June 27, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

pink spam injected into the bloodstream / won’t make one minnesotan, / the difference of an exporter and importer, / colonizer and the colonized with a nine digit ssn

On Lovers and Closeness: Two Poems by Joseph Han

By Joseph Han | June 13, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Every spring, a deer must shed antlers used for fighting and each bone branch grows back with the thought of my partner’s return this season, and yet.

where are we headed

By Jess Rizkallah | May 30, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

but this is boring. let’s talk / about something else. people are only lines / written with water it’s not that serious. i just want to drink / my coffee. i just want to think about roses i misheard / the words as a laugh, beautiful like a song of roses

Dear Dogwood Bloomed

By Michelle Lin | May 9, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

I meant / to just take a photo of you. Forgive // my trespasses, my negatives, / but remember them. My ghosts // were asked to lay in their bed, / and so said: I am not like them // I am not. This is the blood I’ll leave / behind on bark to bark.

Memory of Figment a Merely: Four Poems by Zaina Alsous

By Zaina Alsous | May 2, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

At this point I will disobey and say / you are free to go if you choose. Choice is a complicated part of describing / Palestinian heroes or terrorists.

In a Roman Story

By Mia Kang | April 25, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Oh Mars, you mistook me / for someone / I briefly was. / Girl alight / with impending loss, / vessel for bearing / out an arch / -itectural illusion. A wall / isn’t truly built / to exclude, but to instate / something worth defending.

Salome Dances the Seven Veils, Asks for the Head of a Baptist in Return

By Nina Li Coomes | April 18, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘No words of a Savior are news to a Woman. / No words of a resurrection sound gospel[-enough] / when you are both the Crucifixion and the Crowd.’

Decomposition Study

By Tom Phan | April 11, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Skin molted like a lazy adder/while sinew pooled like glue.//Bone fractured next/like desert rose glass/then melted too.’

The Dirt Will Wash Us Clean: Poems by Hari Alluri

By Hari Alluri | April 4, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘We do not want to hover like a line of fog, a river’s shadow, but slower: shadows in conversation, gentle only when we don’t bother expecting to be heard.’

Immigration in A

By Kristin Chang | March 23, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘When I held him in my palm, I learned to love what made me. From time to time, I think about my father, his country, clean hands. I like to think of his hands as clean. I like to think I owe nothing to his body.’

I Wake Up in New York to an Explosion in Lahore and Carry On With My Day As If Nothing Happened

By Momina Mela | March 14, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘A man kisses a pigeon and another kisses a dog and / both times I look away to gather the spikes of trees into a / dripping faucet.’

Uncertified

By Mehrnoosh Torbatnejad | February 14, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘did I ever tell the teacher / we invented a new language that a pair of six year olds spoke fluent / appeasement she pointed to the globe told me to tell him / this is the world and that is America’

We Set Our Tables

By Krystal A. Sital | February 7, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Cracking the spine, we eat // With fingers mixing and mashing, / ladling for one another, / Karaili, pommecythe, cur-he, / spooning and sliding into our mouths, / Wiping the leaf green.’

“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.’

The Pentagram Discovery by W. Todd Kaneko

By W. Todd Kaneko | January 3, 2017 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘If you spark a flame and turn / it upside down, / you will find it is still / a flame.’

Sunday Elegy by Katy Kim

By Katy Kim | December 13, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

There are no refractions today / by the pepper flakes— in the glass. // The snails slept by the snap pea hooks / and cradles— I salted them. // Sometimes I drank / from a vapored gas— / I made ellipses with my glass.

American Tourist by Jessica Yuan

By Jessica Yuan | November 22, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘My father likes silence and the past. // He votes for losing candidates (he is so unwilling to love charismatic men.) / He believes in the things we are given, like decency.’

The Games: Two Poems by Janice Sapigao

By Janice Lobo Sapigao | November 15, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘these games draw lines / between crowds / i am one of many / who wonder, / how come the silicon valley / squats on san josé?’

No Comfort in Shade: Three Poems by Chris Santiago

By Chris Santiago | November 8, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

To constellate; archipelago. // Portmanteau & neologize. // To fix a golden / foil across the mouth— // a burial mask / to keep the evil out. // To raise walled cities / stone & green with rain.

Self-Portrait as GPS

By Steven Chung | September 20, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

How the steering wheel / points nowhere except towards itself. / And such is the spinning of the mind: / everywhere. When we drove into new / cities it was only a different shape of haze.

Still Dirty: Two Poems by David Lau

By David Lau | September 13, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘No motions./A tonic in page display tufts,/call me switch-foot, a check away from homeless./You get there. Intentional.’

When the Chant Comes: Two Poems by Kay Ulanday Barrett

By Kay Ulanday Barrett | August 16, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘After midnight you assemble your limbs back to / their rightful place as you rid the pressure formed / by all day heat and no privacy.’

None of the Furniture Fits: Two Poems by Sunu Chandy

By Sunu P. Chandy | August 9, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘I lifted / an arm, to signify the range / of human voice. Somewhere in the week, / a detour from grief.’

Hour of the Ox: Poems by Marci Calabretta Cancio-Bello

By Marci Calabretta Cancio-Bello | March 29, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

We graze our fingers through damselfish schools, // but our appetites are as insatiate as the sea is for land. / We gnaw the shore, legs wound in seaweed, / skin flayed by the tongues of clams, pulling, pushing.

Chinese Dreams: Two Poems by Timothy Yu

By Timothy Yu | March 22, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘At Downtown Crossing // he trail the shoppers, buying nothing, & rub / his rented nose. He know: myself am hell. / His feet unmoved in the snow.’

Each seed a set of rules growing apart: A Poem by Kenji Liu

By Kenji C. Liu | March 15, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘How many times in the dark? A brick for every freedom to hold its dream in. Will the Sun make his own grim entrance?’

Edge of a Time Zone: Two Poems by Ae Hee Lee

By Ae Hee Lee | March 8, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

You said you were an ant, eyes frozen / on an indigo wave looming over the world. / (You reset every time / you move forward.)

March First Movement: Korean Translations

By Kim Kirim, Im Hwa, and Kim So-wŏl | March 1, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘All the bitter things, one by one, in a rush, / She wants to swallow. Clothed in blueblack scales in a forest of iodine-colored seaweeds, / She wants to be chased by a shark.’

To an Unknown Passenger

By Phinder Dulai | February 23, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘my hulled hands crash against the tide / to the unloved I will offer / a part of me / in hope my wards will be made complete / for another life’

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’

Bite Hard: Three Poems by Justin Chin (1969-2015)

By Justin Chin | February 2, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘when I am dark/ when I am no more light/ when I am no / more an abomination/ when I am no more shame/ when I am face / again/ when the collective being of me worships god, family, / education and the collective administrative silver spoon, / then I will be back in the fold.’

What I Saw Through The Telescope

By Jess X. Chen | January 26, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘We are given a face, / which means we are given / a vessel of blood to call body, / & lungs–that know the alchemy / of altering wind into breath–the way / plants are always transforming / someone’s last words / into oxygen.’

Now Alive, Now Burning: Three Poems by Yuki Tanaka

By Yuki Tanaka | January 19, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘We melted in amnesia, bubbled up / from the ocean, rinsed clean / of appetite, all healed, / all negated, a sequence of two spines / imitating an arrow. A jaguar loved us. / He licked where our hips had been, / and we cucooked in reply.’

Letters for __________you.

By Esther Lee | January 12, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘You brace yourself against the oncoming. But today the sea glistens like the fish you used to scale.’

Line Break Courage and Other Poems by Zhou Sivan

By Zhou Sivan | January 5, 2016 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘we need to reinvent the image of tragedy for the nation everyday / or even in the everyday / get incensed or pretend to be so or else there is no exit and no future’

Chopped: Four Sections

By Wo Chan | December 29, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘All your potatoes on the ground—you were never meant for this. The camerawoman tiptoes around spilled tubers as she zooms in on your front teeth, tearing open a parcel of dried shrimp. ‘

No Need for the Moon to Shine in It

By Jane Wong | December 15, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Murder is to mitosis is to mercy. / We are mostly legs too: part tendon, part pardon, kicking / or curling.’

Solar Maximum: Poems by Sueyeun Juliette Lee

By Sueyeun Juliette Lee | December 8, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Being alive has again made something new, something that may not be true of justice but is a basic commonplace in evolutionary theory. To forebear is one attitude, rising in an infinite return another.’

Returning: Two Poems by Wendy Chin-Tanner

By Wendy Chin-Tanner | December 1, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘If not agates, then barnacles, if not / sweet-smelling seaweed, then shattered shells./ The traveler need not journey on. // If not mussels, then sea glass, if not // smooth surfaces, then rocks pocked by anemones. / The traveler’s journey is one of return.’

Until the Red Runs Out: Two Poems by Muriel Leung

By Muriel Leung | November 24, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Match lit by a shadow’s curiosity. / Though I was not there for it, I still tasted their meat // and their marrow held a sweetness.’

Lycoris Radiata

By Kou Sugita | November 17, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Do you hear / the rainfall beating / on cowhide skin / father? It is the life / of autumn, / supernova / booming’

Great Object of the Ocean: Poems by B.B.P. Hosmillo

By B.B.P. Hosmillo | November 10, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Your mouth a little wound with a little reason to be / involved is why alienation is a body part, which moves / you to harshly ask if death really wanted what it wanted, / if its sole duty is to be observed all the time.’

miki endo as flint marko (a.k.a. sandman)

By Lee Ann Roripaugh | November 3, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘but what if it was something once / vulnerable, downy, and warm? // something severed or stillborn? // something with pulse and blood / and breath bitten right out of it?’

And If There Was No Country by J. Mae Barizo

By J. Mae Barizo | October 27, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘And they were a solemn people: naming / the world, mapping it out, arguing about what it meant. Clandestine as / husbands’

Pray Away from Our Adolescence: Poems by J.H. Yun

By J.H. Yun | October 20, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘Pastor says / abstain, says sins of the flesh, says hell. But when we see the boys / with their strong corded necks that make us crazy, we want and we do not.’

I’m Nature Boy: Two Poems by Albert Saijo

By Albert Saijo | October 13, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

“ALL WILL COME BACK FROM ROOTS – NOTHING KILLS BLACKBERRY – BUT WHERE ARE ALL THE SPARROWS”

Over the Fields: Two Poems by Angela Peñaredondo

By Angela Peñaredondo | October 6, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘They love long hours of blackout. / They love this snuffed out match / of a little city. To the dust that separates // stained lace. To the poor / thrum of humidity.’

Beaching: Two Poems by Jenna Le

By Jenna Le | September 29, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘The first boy that I dated weighted down his coif / with so much hair gel that the crest atop his pate / was hard as horses’ teeth’

Immigrant Cartography by Cathy Guo

By Cathy Guo | September 22, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘No others no-place/what to do but hoard the remaining solaces’

No Meat, No Maple: Two Poems by Rosanna Oh

By Rosanna Oh | September 15, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘It was the mind repeating itself out of hope— / a mind that inhabits the same metaphor over and over’

Theft of Color by Margaret Rhee

By Margaret Rhee | September 8, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘When I ask, the histologist responds, / Cells have no color. / We use ink to color the slides.’

Derma and Ichor: Poems by Paul Tran

By Paul Tran | September 1, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘I relinquish / the greatest thing I have / for my greatest wish. / I turn into sea foam. / I learn nothing / ceases to exist’

The Dirt in My Knees: Two Poems by Wendy Xu

By Wendy Xu | August 25, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘The world has a sleek, hot belly / A cue of white space, an inch or several yawning before the drop, towards volta’

Rajiv Mohabir: Two Poems

By Rajiv Mohabir | August 18, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

“in the jungle they hide until / the seekers, bearing lime leaves jail / them in the silver night.”

The Bridge at No Gun Ri

By Molly Gaudry | August 11, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

“I didn’t care whether they understood me, then I said, ‘Hello, hello,’ again, soldiers climbed out of their foxholes and looked at me, they couldn’t understand, but they knew where I came from, they just looked at me”

The Alien Crown | Poems in Sequence by Lo Kwa Mei-en

By Lo Kwa Mei-en | August 4, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Never / reaching orgasm, / the colony names its price and I, / hot cent of foreign cash, / sell it slant. Daughters / say it with ozone: my sex is a metaphor / for too much / good luck.

Between Promise and Wound | Poems by R.A. Villanueva

By R.A. Villanueva | July 28, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Be calm. Soon / we will bear sentimentality, scent / what is lost in these cells with carrion, / asphodel, turpentine, forsythia / blooming somewhere in the dark.

An Unlonely Land: Two Poems by Chen Chen

By Chen Chen | July 21, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

When did I first realize my parents were not infinite? / That I could see the end of them? Past their capes & catchphrases?

Nobody’s Body: Three Poems by Aimee Suzara

By Aimee Suzara | July 14, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

eating crabs with your fingers pre-Spanish fork and spoon and pre-KFC native chicken you can be served by dancing feathered natives that is true it all tastes good

Mộng-Lan: Two Poems

By Mộng-Lan | July 7, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

how to be clear as the earth without clinging to the sand? / flowing through my hands like water / one seed clings to my palm

My Computer Asks A Question: David Mura

By David Mura | June 30, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

‘in the haiku I send her / and the silence she sends back, / hell no, nan da yo, / call it off, snap it shut, trash / it, just let it be, let me be’

An Imaginary Lineage

By Nicholas Wong and Franny Choi | June 23, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

She petrified her / Secrets. “About what?” / That she’s been chosen. / “She chose silence.” How? / “Like the light, deeply / Fissured.

Kim Hyesoon: Two Poems

By Kim Hyesoon | June 16, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

How scared God must have been / when the woman who ate all the fruit of the tree he’d planted / was cutting out each red body from / between her legs

Four Poems by José Garcia Villa

By Jose Garcia Villa | June 9, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

“In my desire to be Nude / I clothed myself in fire:— / Burned down my walls, my roof / Burned all these down.”

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

Phototactic Tactics: Four Poems by Kimiko Hahn

By Kimiko Hahn | May 26, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

swimming six thousand feet to the surface / the lights lure curiosity / from a sudden clearing / to the gingerbread house / where a hand has lighted the wick

Li Shangyin: Two Poems

By Li Shangyin | May 19, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Upon entering a shrine, it seems to hold ghosts / The belly of an abbess suggests pregnancy / Behind a heavy curtain, the suggestion of people

Fatimah Asghar: Two Poems

By Fatimah Asghar | May 12, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

They send flowers before guns now / all the thorns plucked from the stems. / An order to weave the dirge / before the mortar sings.

The Clarity of Longing: Two Poems by Marco Yan

By Marco Yan | May 5, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

as if smell promises taste and always delivers. / Pleasure, when observed, wets into compulsiveness.

Music Maps: Three Poems by Warren Liu

By Warren Liu | April 28, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

If these are ghosts, trace them / in the dismal notes of the gutter, / the window’s drumming murmur

Such As by Wo Chan

By Wo Chan | April 21, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

I was the smell of ripe lemons in his oxbone nation. I was never / brave. But, he let me eat butter, held me like an egg.

Locked Eyes: Three Poems by Monica Sok

By Monica Sok | April 14, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

I will float down the stream / until it ends. / Until it ends, the mines avoid me.

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.

Eugenia Leigh: Three Poems

By Eugenia Leigh | March 24, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

My mother left my father more than once. A favorite / family tradition observed when I was four. / Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Leaving is easier / the second time.

Lights of Spring: Two Poems by Hoa Nguyen

By Hoa Nguyen | March 17, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

Rage dented the silver / trashcan / “fire-crack” or “schrack”

Aubade for Winter

By Sandra Lim and Aimee Nezhukumatathil | March 10, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

I went to see what people are really like / in a thousand human ways.

Three Poems by Emily Yoon

By Emily Yoon | February 24, 2015 | Asian American Writers' Workshop

I should have pinned you / to that wall, but you have walked already / out of that drawn-on door.

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