Monday, September 30, 2019
Thursday, September 26, 2019
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!)
Monday, September 23, 2019
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