Browsing: poem

Your footsteps gone, grass spry before I could ask, 

Hold my hand, just this once…

They say Nguyen translates as musician or musical instrument so I concede perhaps my artistry belongs to my ancestors.

The stubbornness of wanting to become more than I could ever be has led me on my journey to study abroad in Australia. We always had a thirst to be different, but our desires always come at an expensive cost. 家,一直都會在的。家,一直會留在那一盒三十五塊的檸檬茶裏。

And the thread of a constellation hidden behind a sweet morning came when my eyes were full of last night’s dream beyond the mountains, what did I see like belonging and exile?

“he has something special to show me he’s holding a paper card in his hands shyly he shows me his scribbling it’s English on paper cards”

Malaysia: negaraku, ‘my country,’ merdeka, ‘independence’? Contrary. My post-colonialism? Postured: my decolonisation, postponed; my stamp, postage (RM0.60, apiece); my restante, poste; my rest, in peace; my ante, increased; my gender, policed …