English Poems

The Spirits of Santo Domingo

There,
People can pay to catch a horse ride through centuries
In just a few hours
Thrive on authenticity with one’s flesh and bone
The official language is the Bible
Connecting souls of arrivers and departers
Four hundred sixty five years of heritage flaunting
No trace of moss
History embarked on a voyage of silver and gold
Pearl
And spices of ambition
Red-blooded natives
White-blooded settlers
Anabolism of religious passage
History commands the sound of awakening bell
Instruction for adaptive reality

Shoeshine boys haul the sunrise on their backs
Weaving their way through Calle Las Damas
Window panes imprint bold shades of a lost era
Relinquished walls of fortresses
Eyes of the compass have yet ceased positioning
A ghostly melody of the guitar
Soaks tourists in an oblique stream of repentance
The dark-skinned artist
Does magic on six metal strings with an extra toe
Lulls the listeners to seek their origins
To reform the war criminals
To explore a new beginning
In the name of love and compassion
And peace, amen

The city strengthens its prowess
With Mama Juana
Days drag, dribbling tropical humidity
The mountainous sun and immense heat
Suck up blueness from the cerulean Larimar
Surge into the sea, burdened with vestige of the past
History moves
In rhythm
Rhythmically
Warm rush, rippling cave
Hagamos el armor
History procreates nostalgic spirits

Exclusive Personality

I swear
I won’t get upset
Go ahead and call me any name you like

To my hairdresser
I am “the girl with many natural highlights”
(he likes to focus on the many tell-tale streaks of gray )
To my beautician
I am “miss exceptionally oily skin whose diet consists wholly of spicy dishes”
(does she mean my over the top jealous nature?)
To my former boss who has just let me go
I am “the super smart woman whom the company can no longer afford”
(but, really, the only face-saving explanation is the global financial crisis)
To my half-single best friend
I am “the gal who is suffering a severe case of delusion”
(too bad! the world hasn’t discovered an effective treatment yet)
To my male classmates
I am “the-flat-as-a-board chick”
(they should know better since looks can be deceiving)
I used to be “my one and only”
To someone who doesn’t believe in exclusive possession
(only when it applies to him, exclusively)

To be quite honest
I don’t believe in expressing exceptional anger either
(except with him)

On the 7th Floor

Everything made their ways up
To the 7th hidden floor
Rub their crude shadow prints on the two week new doormat
Dragging bygone dirt indoor
Uncertainty curls up a cumbersome emotional ball
Shaken by abrupt phone calls
On vibrate
Selectively unanswered
Words stammer their unsolicited presence
Absent main characters
Playing supportive roles
Not of their mastery

A crucial scene without sound effects

The ceiling fan’s blades chop up the plump moon of the 7th floor
Fleshes of light burst the eerie air
Absolute silence
Spirit possessed with an obvious sixth sense
Of a woman
Plunging needles through each fingernail
Sewing a secret lover’s name on the inside of her longing thighs
Without uttering a cry of disappointment

A vital climax without sound effects

Am I here to share
More than
Breakfast, lunch, dinner
And midnight movie sex
Gifted directors turn fiction into altered authenticity
Male character portrays dubiety as self-memoir truth
Every scene skillfully directed
Poignantly enacted
Three interweaving interpretations
Rotating takes
One expected ending
The red suitcase left on the red-eye flight
Back

Playing dual role
Antagonist and protagonist
The male character never ends up alone
The naked window on the 7th floor lifelessly repels the white curtain dress

A disappointing finale in silence

Confession of an Average Girl

I confess
I am completely ignorant when it comes to E=MC2 [something to do with Einstein and the Hiroshima catastrophe]
I forget the element symbol for Polonium in the periodic table [I only remember that hydrogen and oxygen sustain life]
I am not imaginative enough to visualize the actual speed of light [hence I always treasure each nanosecond of happiness]

I believe
Santa Claus is real [but he has lost all motivations since Mrs. Claus left]
Hillary is the person Bill loves the most [even when he was getting close and personal with Monica]
aliens are roaming among us [the only explanation for some of your bizarre romantic behavior]

I admit
I am an ardent worshipper of the Brazilian wax cult [one hundred percent sleek from chin to toe]
I never have sex without using a condom [of course I don’t believe in abortion]
I like to wear cotton thong [because visible panty lines are too sincere]

I realize
I am just a typical girl with an average IQ
with a mainstream attitude about female sexuality

But he says loves me most
when he sees me cry while reading a classical love poem.

Dead philosopher’s apologia

Women should always obey but never question!
They forced me to marry a pockmarked Taiwanese man
The dowry is barely enough for a decent size grave

Chaos is not decreed by Heaven but produced by women!
Barbed wire encircles the uterine brothel
like a crown of thorns on Jesus’ head

Female nature is naturally passive!
A piece of gauze, a sealed mouth, a basement door slammed shut
Gas chambers, columns of radon, blind-folded Jews ….

Women and eunuchs are two ungovernable classes!
They force me to liberate myself through whoredom
A red paradise (like a vampire) needs weakness for nourishment

Beauty and lack of talent are desirable female virtues!
Cigarette burns mark my indifferent nakedness
Payback for the news that my john is among thirty nine million AIDS carriers

Four hundred seventy nine BC History equivocated
The official death of the greatest man in eastern philosophy
They called me Confucius.

Ultra Conservative

(translated by Nguyen Hoang)

You may brand me ultra-conservative,
in this mad world
upon myriad tabloids & dailies
after slanging wars of words
innuendoes and casualties are
plenty
Playboys and wanabies
lying atop the bylines, showing off,
catching in the others, their curiosities aside
pool of brazen Lust.
They try hard, don’t they
arguments from one single point of views.
Not even lips that need to move
when the gyms worked-up products
are much preferred, & in this game
of muscling through and through
tough luck, when
the latter of Mind and Body
is more than enough.
That is, from the women who know what they want
after two thousand years being dumbed down
with the virtue of submission and prudence
being pillars that hold up Society of Patriarchy and Dictatorship.
Mouths have been covered by pure white handkerchief
that is, white less a sprinkle of blood
They let Platonic love die in asphyxiation:
crossed over are two pure souls
lying, breathless.
You may find it hard to see my points
Brand me still, continue so, won’t you
your Tory woman
in a world, at a time
they come, ready to turn
my body into a free-range readers club.
Well, and of that club, you ’re not
the only member.

Strange Day

A sudden loss of electricity at midnight
The alarm clock runs
1 hour and 16 minutes late
Hit the shower
No hot water
Unzip the make-up bag
Out of blush powder
Crawl into the car
Sub-zero
The engine screams for attention
Traffic light
Motionless
Commuters scowl
“Farking iceholes!”
“Motherfracker!”
Nonpareil expressions

Push the 16th floor button
“Elevator’s down for maintenance”
Walk up a hundred-something steps
Ms. Vivian Tran’s office
The heater is panting
Boss’s emergency call
On line 6
“freking shit!”
Victoria’s Secret push up bra is the company’s preferred dress code
Deep V neck cashmere sweater
Boss reprimands
Then goes on to compliment the pretty top, the milky skin, the cleavage
Dinner invitation
Comes with a promise of promotion
Refusal will lead to
Immediate termination with no unemployment compensation
Fuming
“đồ dê dỏm”
“What?”
“Listen up! I quit! mắc dịch.”

Elevator’s working now
The Toyota utters a crisp start
Today is
A strangely beautiful day.

Summer of Forever

Summer
two-way ticket
a few outfits, a pen, a couple of novels
a cup of transit coffee
the symphonic sound of wind chime
ticking
ticking
ticking
the moment you draft a will
refuse the past
seven years of tribulation, twice the disillusion
close your eyes and envision the cloud swirls
summer swings between wave crests
softly lull the chestnut ringlets
simple happiness peaks
night tremblingly sinks
the sun cascades down
two new stars spring from the night
together
we play a game of forever puzzle
my perfect fit is You
solely
the tear on my cheek and the palm of your tender hand
my rosy lip stain and your glowing smile
the birthmark on my chest and your gentle forehead
night proves all fears and doubts will cease to exist
let those lips resume where those hands begin
grace in a passionate embrace
thousands of days saved for tonight
summer
one way ticket
stay with me
in seas of perfumed sheets
and love me
for a lifetime.