Results for tag: poetry
370 results found

January 2, 2024

i watch you watch the news, that a body/ prepared for burial is measured at the elbows, and/ worry.

December 5, 2023

So my father summoned my mother, my sister, my history professor, and my psychiatrist who demanded my weightless crown for their curiosities.

October 19, 2023

my body, young, averting / believing its own dream / of an earth that was / never hers.

June 27, 2023

Walking in the predawn, syncopal / heat we revert to the guttural old / tongue.

May 30, 2023

In my right hand, a monsoon to rain the year away / In my left, a poem to wash yourself clean.

May 9, 2023

The estimate comes down to six hundred missing,/ the estimate comes to a son flying off a bridge.

March 24, 2023

ئىنتىزارلىقنىڭ سۈبھىدۇر ئىسمى، / زۇلمەتنى چاققان ئەزان كېلىدۇ |
Intizarliqning sübhidur ismi, / Zulmetni chaqqan ezan kélidu. |
The name of longing is Dawn. / Breaking the chains of oppression, the call to prayer will come.

March 23, 2023

سۈڭەكلەر قىرىلىپ، ئۇۋىلىپ ھەتتا، / تەجىرىخانىدا ئەگىسە روھىم |
Even as my bones are scraped and rubbed / my spirit circles where this work is done

March 23, 2023

ئاي يۇلتۇزۇمنى شەپەرەڭلەرگە ساتقان كېچە |
Ay yultuzumni sheperenglerge satqan kéche |
Oh night, you sold the moon and star to the moths.

March 21, 2023

ئېزىپ باق بۈگۈن يوچۇن يوللاردا \ ھېچكىم يادىغا كەلمىگەن بىر رەت |
Try to get lost today on strange roads / A path where no one is called to mind

February 7, 2023

Instead, eternal life / blossoms on the branches of a peach tree every three thousand years.

December 13, 2022

Once my eyes close, they watch / her calcium peeling piece by piece.

June 14, 2022

I have done it again, crossing / outside the frame into / some brave, new world

January 5, 2021

A girl labelled comfort / wartime ammunition / recalled her father who built / her home on / a graveyard

December 8, 2020

tell me you knew all along & you reached for / the heavens because you were happy.

November 3, 2020

I stow away the sentences in which there is no you in my drawer right after writing them I remember the time when I emptied the bottom of my drawer for you There I found stuff like a key that became useless forever

October 6, 2020

One day you’ll be married. May Allah make your naseeb good. May you find a man who prays and follows the deen.

September 29, 2020

somewhere a tiger loosens its throat or so she imagines / the rubber trees looming she lifts her paring knife to the day’s throat

August 25, 2020

Our Lady of Scapulars, we carry you around / like credentials, like disgrace, we suffer
this insufferable heat and your packaged spirit’s / smothered by the reek of our sweat—how much closer / must we be?

August 11, 2020

We ride knife-cut roads across this back / of continent to the prairie’s torn edge / to a place where shadows limn loess

July 14, 2020

everything is/air/is/argument (the chorus said)/as I slept/in the desert//
service on the cell went dead/I said/jocasta always hangs herself

June 30, 2020

At fifteen Nani shot a / tiger. A big gun in a girl’s hands; I’ve seen the picture.

June 2, 2020

When my harabeoji died / last spring I thought I’d move to California, convert / to Catholicism, kneel beside my halmeoni at early Mass // become student of those hundred and three / Korean saints though I can’t name more than one.

May 26, 2020

In our home we brewed ginseng tea to battle unnamed / diseases. We held hands with health. I was never good at it, of course: / always too bitter, oversteeped. Always the universe mocking me / from the sidelines.

May 5, 2020

Perhaps for you a minefield’s / just a field, for you a mother tongue / is not some rune that breaks your mouth / and heart.

February 4, 2020

What I want / is to be unspooled from my navel until / not even my body can keep me. Wildened to morsels / of mortal sound, I crave only the crown of being unseen.

December 17, 2019

脱脂牛奶 …..………………. $1.00 / mama am i skeleton enough mama am i skeleton enough .………. 0.25 mile

August 27, 2019

I loved them all and everything / they thought about so much and I was out / of my mind by then, not with grief or disgust / but with beauty

June 11, 2019

You can describe a place / without knowing it. / At recess in March I choked / because the air tasted like fertilizer. / What’s the difference / between breathing a place / and being suffocated by it?

June 4, 2019

I pulled the comforters out after. / You had sweat the bed; the room bloomed with / your sweetness. I thought / you can know / somebody for a long while and not know / their scent.

May 21, 2019

hong kong a neon neckline, long hair glittering / with ship-lights, crystal balls, storm velvets. / it’s her life, yet I had come, and grown / my hair, and happened upon the eastern sun / like a moon.

May 14, 2019

Now, I’m lost in the woods thinking of Noy. / Is she still in Seattle? Does she has her pastry shop? / In Minnesota, I gather what is gone, capturing a spirit.

April 23, 2019

Instinctively, one / wants to be the native plant in its ancestral loam, / one wants a resistance to the sun, to shun full rainfall / for a flash of morning dew, or at very least, grow / some throwaway limbs.

April 16, 2019

I practiced my Urdu in the bathroom with you / as I sat in the tub; only so long before an American / mermaid can stand without floating on into sea foam.

March 26, 2019

What do you like he tries again / and I think of landscape, the early fog / ridden hills of San Francisco when eucalyptus / unfurl like children waking to the light.

February 19, 2019

If you lie / on the table, you subject the table to a terrible guilt. / It is no longer a table people can eat on. If you stand / next to the table, the table senses its mortality.

February 12, 2019

Over and over / from some small / dark pit, / it spun out / a whole world / for itself

February 5, 2019

I am careful with my words unless they are not in English, / am I not? (不好意識打擾各位可是我不想再禮貌了。) / My mother is careful with her words only when they are in English.

January 16, 2019

Banknotes / dropped, jawbones dropped, and it was truly / unnerving, to watch the white people / stare at me, mouths / twitching in awe or pity, / or both.

January 15, 2019

My father the frycook, his father / the same. Their hands so oiled / everything they touched / flamed. Like Midas if Midas / loved fire not gold.

December 6, 2018

This is a rectangular dream / which inevitably brings forth a rectangular waiting / a floating country can’t pillow a broken dream / and I’ve never dared say goodnight

December 4, 2018

The / day you died, the windows of our house were / open to let the breeze in. You said that it was / nothing.

October 30, 2018

She’s here to see us off. / Her voice is the softest ligature, unthreading. / Why are you saying goodbye to everyone except for me who raised you?

October 12, 2018

May our dead no longer speak to us / Our language now kneaded into other woes / with rancid stars a meager pittance / and false kingdoms rich in violent blows

September 18, 2018

This is my small sphere. / I’ll make good, stay folded in myself. I promise / to memorize the bramble and texture of garden walls.

September 11, 2018

Fingers caked with wet / rice break backs and bellies, / pluck gills, / scrape eggs, tear limbs / Tita takes our legs– / cracks them / under a glass jar for us. / We suck shells ’til twilight.

August 7, 2018

Not all rainbow: here, tender orange, / there, rusted brown, the underside / gelatinous and white. Then the bones.

July 24, 2018

The stallion: one win short / of the triple crown. My intonation: / one stress too many for an apology— / all the times I got it wrong. Minoru, / Minoru—both are gone.

July 12, 2018

We are our skins; we are our hides. But my skin, and the skin of others like me, has been torn. It is at the site of this gash that our identity coheres, that our identity is espied.

June 26, 2018

Ask if he knows, what the first champagne mango of the summer / tastes like, its golden juices flowing over some farmer’s / cigar paper skin.

June 19, 2018

A policeman found the boy minutes later. A shaman, / a monk, a priest, and a poet are still pouring over / his soul.

May 29, 2018

We prayed for resurrections, / but the dead remain as memories that / seemed to shrink in the mind, / like an airplane appearing smaller / the further it gets from the ground.

May 22, 2018

I should say kholo, my mother’s brother. / I should say umja, my father’s brother / so you know which branch of the tree to cut. Or / cherish.

May 8, 2018

Pipedream: / I wondered what it would be like to strip away / slit eyes—sick of assimilation; the debilitating / task of tireless reinvention.

March 27, 2018

How do I tell you that I have done this before? / How to build a diorama of what I am not.

March 20, 2018

The floor broke apart / the tasbeeh into ninety / nine beady reflections / and my mother is still / able to fake a surprise / when she can’t locate / them all.

February 20, 2018

They might spend most of their days in the sky, / but every evening they remember / to come back to earth.

February 13, 2018

I lay my head down on a pillow pilled / with characters, yellow tracks and traces / of the name I was given.

January 23, 2018

but really every word sounds like the sun/ sweltering in the middle of Santacruzan

September 26, 2017

‘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.’

September 5, 2017

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

June 14, 2017

Three Sessions, 3 hours each (6-9pm) Wednesdays June 14th, June 21st, June 28th Fees & Payment Options: $250 General / $220 AAWW Members (Become a Member!) Full payment due before first class. Maximum of fifteen students. *EARLY BIRD! Sign up before June 1st for $200 General / $180 AAWW Members* *STUDENT RATE for limited seats, […]

March 31, 2017

Transcendent American poet Max Ritvo wrote that if the world outside a poet’s head is more interesting than the world inside their head, they might as well become a journalist. His point: it’s what’s inside the poet’s mind, what (or who) is hooting or singing or moaning or gagging inside the poet’s own totally unique […]

January 24, 2017

‘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.’

October 16, 2014

Cathy Linh Che talks about her debut collection of poems, Split, and what it means to mimic flashbacks of war, immigration, and sexual violence.

August 12, 2014

An interview with spoken word duo DarkMatter on radical desis, the legacy of Partition, Twitter poems and The Perks of Being a Wallflower

May 7, 2014

When poet and First Lady Chirlane McCray (aka “FLONYC”) chose spoken word artist Ramya Ramana to perform at her husband’s inauguration, it took the ceremony—and Ramya’s poetry—to a whole new level.

May 30, 2014

2014 will go down as an historic year for poetry. We’re feting Sally Wen Mao‘s debut Mad Honey Symposium. Dave Eggers likes its “gritty, world-wise sense of humor that gives her work heavyweight swagger.” Also just released: Cathy Linh Che‘s Split, a tender exploration of  war, diaspora, and violence, and Tarfia Faizullah‘s Seam, based on interviews with women survivors of the 1971 Pakistani […]

November 20, 2013

I hate you, poem, for wanting to know the truth. / The truth is, I trusted the sky. / Trusted it wouldn’t throw things at us

November 6, 2013

The key to enjoying the jubilant, fleshy dread of Feng Sun Chen’s supercut poem is appreciating what one might call the bodily turn in poetry.

October 29, 2013

Poetic responses to the literature of the Ghadar movement

March 3, 2012

Marilyn Chin said: ‘Our poetry is not a static enterprise but a thriving, historical progression.’ As we look at Asian American poetry today, much as changed, yet much has stayed the same. This panel will feature a group of diverse literary critics, anthologists, and poets in a vibrant discussion to grapple with questions such as: […]

February 6, 2012

Add power to your poetic punches and fleetness to your formal footwork. These classes will focus on adding techniques, tension, and twists to your expressive toolbox. Specific classes will focus on landing leaps, torquing turns, and the uses and abuses of certain voids. There will be a weekly writing assignment and workshop as well as […]

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