I suppose I am cursed and privileged to live in the space in between; Homesick here, homesick there.
Browsing: poetry
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 …
“Know thyself,” a moribund maxim: even the neighbours consume an idea of themselves which is make-believe.
Poetry for Queer Honi.
Poetry for Queer Honi.
Poetry for Queer Honi.
