ABOUT OCEAN VUONG

Ocean

Born in 1988

Like the son I've never had

Did you break grounds

For those who, like you,

can write their way through shadows,

or shed tears

for those who, like others,

can't cry,

just fumble,

and tumble instead???




Born in 1988

You the son I have not met

through whose lens

I patch my eyes

with my own threads

Threads in lieu of words

Hanging still

Myself upside down

Inside out

Forever longing

Forever lost




There you go,

Son

Write!

Cry!

Fumble!

Tumble!

Hang!




You!




Or just my own




illusion?




WND c sept 26 2019




Someday i’ll Love Ocean Vuong




Ocean, don’t be afraid.

The end of the road is so far ahead

it is already behind us.

Don’t worry. Your father is only your father

until one of you forgets. Like how the spine

won’t remember its wings

no matter how many times our knees

kiss the pavement. Ocean,

are you listening? The most beautiful part

of your body is wherever

your mother’s shadow falls.

Here’s the house with childhood

whittled down to a single red tripwire.

Don’t worry. Just call it horizon

& you’ll never reach it.

Here’s today. Jump. I promise it’s not

a lifeboat. Here’s the man

whose arms are wide enough to gather

your leaving. & here the moment,

just after the lights go out, when you can still see

the faint torch between his legs.

How you use it again & again

to find your own hands.

You asked for a second chance

& are given a mouth to empty into.

Don’t be afraid, the gunfire

is only the sound of people

trying to live a little longer. Ocean. Ocean,

get up. The most beautiful part of your body

is where it’s headed. & remember,

loneliness is still time spent

with the world. Here’s

the room with everyone in it.

Your dead friends passing

through you like wind

through a wind chime. Here’s a desk

with the gimp leg & a brick

to make it last. Yes, here’s a room

so warm & blood-close,

I swear, you will wake—

& mistake these walls

for skin.



Ocean Vuong from the New Yorker




NOTE: I have a special bond with chi My Luong from San Diego State. I also have a special bond with Ocean Vuong from afar and the young poet probably does not know it.  Before  fame and fortune, this seemingly endearing young man started a WikiVietlit on me (a Dan Duffy project!  I just recently found out.)  Such a sweet, coincidental bond! So I sought out his work and read 2 of his poems. (I have a terrible habit and resolution of not reading my "contemporaries").

Then came the McArthur news. So well deserving.

Having read only 2 of his poems, I see the young man's power with words!

He is now teaching MFA at Amherst, one of my favorite campuses in the 80s (when Ocean was born and I was already trapped in my law career!) (Why did I get to do a speech at Amherst? The Viet students there couldn't get Connie Chung so they got me instead, 'cause I was...free!)