white pillars, once trees,
stand above the water:
record of what was.
Sunken Forest [Haiku]
1
DAILY PHOTO: Scenes from Charyn Canyon
BOOKS: “36 Ways of Writing a Vietnamese Poem” by Nam Le
36 Ways of Writing a Vietnamese Poem by Nam LeMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
Amazon.in Page
Release Date: March 5, 2024
This is a clever collection of poems, lighthearted in places but raw and incensed in others. (A pacing that I appreciate in poetry collections.) The collection draws heavily on the author’s experience being of Vietnamese ethnicity while growing up in the West. It touches upon the tragedies lived by his elders, but, more so, how his life (and perception of him) has been shaped by war and the diaspora it caused. The collection playfully engages with language and cultural concepts in a way that is interesting and – at times – scintillating.
My main gripe with this collection would be its occasional swerves into the domain of huge, rare, and super-specialized terminology. I enjoy being sent to the dictionary as much as the next person, but in a poetry collection – where evoking emotion is the name of the game – I find it takes me out of the experience.
I enjoyed reading this collection and would recommend it for poetry readers.
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“Trees” by Joyce Kilmer [w/ Audio]
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose busom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
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PROMPT: Cities
As many as I can, but I guess the top ten list (of cities I haven’t been to) would be: Kyoto, Guilin, Rio de Janeiro, Istanbul, Hong Kong, Mexico City, Zanzibar, Lhasa, Santiago, and Havana. [Not necessarily in order.]
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PROMPT: People Say
There is nothing that I hope everyone would say about me. I would wish friends to say, "He's tolerable in the right dose." I would wish my enemies to say "He's a mean sonofabitch." I would wish those who don't know me to keep their mouths' shut about me. I would hope salesmen and missionaries would say, "He's the kind of guy whose door is not worth knocking on."
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DAILY PHOTO: Tikal Temple Two: Temple of the Mask
Image
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Cormorant Stitching [Haiku]
a cormorant weaves
into and over water:
no trace but ripples.
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Introduction to Myth Making [Free Verse]
From the hilltop,
one can watch nature reclaim:
green grows up the glass,
tufts sprout from each crevice
and the man-made world is crevice-laden,
one seed blown into a mortar crack
will become a wedge --
a sprout that splits stone.
Concrete and steel prove
digestible:
time, water, oxygen,
the enzymatic requirements are few.
Fungi blooms from a pile-full of dung.
I don't know whether it's a desirable meal,
whether our trappings & vestiges are
haute cuisine,
or merely a meal
of convenience.
This place was once with us.
Now, it's hidden so well
that it's become a myth,
a once firm and tangible thing --
now invisible & conceptual.
Nature swallowed our world
and farted our mythos.
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“O sweet spontaneous” by E.E. Cummings [w/ Audio]
O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting
fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and
poked
thee
, has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy
beauty how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and
buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
(but
true
to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover
thou answerest
them only with
spring)
Tiger Riding for Beginners 