Tourists walk an ancient town,
Hoping a residue of its past
Will cling to them...
But not too much:
Not the plagues,
Not the torture,
Not the petty monarchs
& aristocrats,
Just some romantic notion.
In an Ancient Town [Free Verse]
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Tag Archives: Free Verse
BOOK REVIEW: “Becoming Ghost” by Cathy Linh Che
Becoming Ghost: Poetry by Cathy Linh CheMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Publisher Site – Simon & Schuster
This collection is built around the surreal emotionality of the author’s parents having both lived through the war in Vietnam and also having served as extras in the film, Apocalypse Now. [For those unfamiliar, Apocalypse Now was a Francis Ford Copp0la film based loosely (and partially) on Joseph Conrad’s novel,Heart of Darkness. The film follows a military officer sent upriver to assassinate a rogue Special Operations colonel during the Vietnam War, and shows the war from various perspectives as the would-be assassin travels through the country to complete his mission.]
At times, the poems read like a poem-shaped biography, but that’s not all there is to the book. There are points that imagery and language are used to shoot beyond a mere telling of events, in order to create emotional resonance with the core strangeness of living through a traumatic event only to portray a background individual (someone like one’s own past self) in a fictional retelling of events based on those through which one lived.
The poetic forms vary somewhat, though all within the modern, free verse style. Most notably, the author uses the golden shovel approach of Terrence Hayes extensively.
This collection grabbed me both with its clever language and its thought-provoking central premise. I’d highly recommend it for readers of poetry.
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Sunflower Horde [Free Verse]
A horde of sunflowers
Grows on thin stalks
With big, bright heads
That tilt chin-upwards.
Could they stand so tall
And proudly if they weren't
Packed against each other?
When one bitch-slaps a sunflower,
One expects its head to fly
Clean off, but it just does
An angry little head bobble,
And goes about its business,
Looking skyward...
Though - occasionally - one breaks
Into a sad nod.
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What I Know about Beaches [Free Verse]
On a sandy beach,
I think of each grain
of sand as being
the same.
But on a pebble beach,
Each stone has its own
color, texture, size,
and shape.
It's made me second guess
What I know about beaches.
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On Mud & Lotus [Free Verse]
The saying goes:
“No mud - no lotus!”
But I can’t help but notice
That the flower is long-stemmed,
Raising it high above the mud.
A tropical newbie,
I used to confuse
Lotuses & Water Lilies.
Then I learned the simplest
Way to distinguish the flowers
(From a distance)
Is that Lily pads
Rest on the water,
While Lotus leafs
Also try to rise
above the muddy water.
I can’t help but wonder whether
Our admiration has made the
Lotus too good for its mud?
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Mind Fog [Free Verse]
The fog envelopes me.
I draw vivid pictures
on its white surface.
I don't know how I do it,
But I know why.
It's a craving:
To fill emptiness,
To disallow silence.
The fog's texture is
Subtle, but existent.
Should I not sketch my story
On that white surface,
But rather give it my attention
then I might see that texture,
and then see it clearly,
and - eventually - feel it
as I glide my hand
though space...
Blind and at ease.
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Flower Mind [Free Verse]
Morning Glories
don’t feel slighted
because they bloomed
in the shadow of
Mexican Sunflowers…
Though the humans
who otherwise might
stop to admire them
can now not be
bothered to notice them.
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“The Bungler” by Amy Lowell [w/ Audio]
You glow in my heart
Like the flames of uncounted candles.
But when I go to warm my hands,
My clumsiness overturns the light,
And then I stumble
Against the tables and chairs.
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“The Wind Shifts” by Wallace Stevens [w/ Audio]
This is how the wind shifts:
Like the thoughts of an old human,
Who still thinks eagerly
And despairingly.
The wind shifts like this:
Like a human without illusions,
Who still feels irrational things within her.
The wind shifts like this:
Like humans approaching proudly,
Like humans approaching angrily.
This is how the wind shifts:
Like a human, heavy and heavy,
Who does not care.
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“In a Station of the Metro” by Ezra Pound [w/ Audio]
The apparition of these faces in a crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 