TENDER ✾ ✏︎ writing came ︎
writing went ︎ writing took
a nap ︎ ︎ & i took some notes.


⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺⎻⎼⎽⎼⎻⎺
Writing only comes if I lived it.
Had a rush of words,
catch me so effortlesley.
Pushed on my tongue
when I felt like my voice wasn’t enough.
And if I’m sitting on my emotions,
contemplating a thought.
Well,  you would have this dizzy-dazey,
broken but stitched together
of a mess I call writing.



My body︎


is being discovered again,
by kisses and touches
that are meant for me.

I too have felt
dissociated with my limbs.
That I only recognized it’s
prescence with pain, cuts,
bruises, scrapes and tattoos.

Not the plumpness in my hips,
stretch marks on my thighs.
Supple curves and soft
underlines of my breasts.

To be feminine
never felt natural.

My back heavy from the
weight of my ancestors,
my muscles strong from my days.

But here I am adored and
loved by not only myself,
but another human who knows
how to treat my body.

-To kiss me, is to kiss myself (2022) 

My ears perk ︎


from the the buzz of the city,
The neighbours rooster cracks at 6 AM.

I don’t need to wake up to
clocks who tick,
For my body knows when
the sun starts here.

I’m welcomed by a sister
and her mother on the street side.

Where I’m greeted with breakfast,
iced coffee, and their sweet smiles.
I’ve been here for a while now,
skin kissed by the warmth of the sun.

I hold my voice well, it dances
playfully of banter with the uncles
selling todays lottery tickets.

I flow through traffic on my vespa
without a phone or directions;
I’ve remembered my way round
these chaotic up beat streets,
know my place in a sea of
endless honking.

And after a long bustling day of work.
I sit back with friends as we
drink ourselves rowdy
at the smallest alley way
in Vietnam.

MỘT – HAI – BA – DZÔ!

We cheers to us,
and the day
that presently passed.

-A dream that is yet to happen.(2022)


 

I like you ︎


You can reach me
when I float on the ceilings,
when I sink deep to the seas.
And you sit there calmly,
reminding me
that when I’m done,
you’ll be here.


I light you,
and the world doesn’t burn.


I pray for the return
of not the idea
of normal.


I pray for the return
of my mind,
whose stuck,
on airplane mode. 

But, my body has landed.

You burn.
Slowly,
I would wake
from my slumber,
then forgive myself
for being,
not. so. me.

I wasn’t perfect.

But no one asked me to be.

I pray for loved ones who’ve passed,
I can still hear them whisper to me
on my journey to chase my dreams.

The sick becomes loss,
the hate can be fought,
the pain can be swept away,
under a stroke of a match,
and light of a joss stick.

You are constant.
You are a ritual.

︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎

*Mama can bring you flowers,
offerings of your favourite foods,
and I can make you an iced-coffee.

I still won’t know you.
I can imagine
who you were,
when you were here.

And maybe you’re proud,
I have finally slowed down
to catch up,to me.

-A prayer (2021)


 

The Rest of Yesterday ︎ 2020


The poem, "The Rest of Yesterday", is a reminisce on my time in Vietnam. The flow mimics a lullaby, which includes the Vietnamese language, onomatopoeia, and an index for translations of the Vietnamese words used. The poem is based off of all five senses the audience can imagine and become familiar to Vietnam even if they have never seen it or been there before. I paint a scenery from morning to night, and recreate the environment of Vietnam and my favourite things from my trip.


I use the storytelling concept of the lullaby to evoke the idea of Diaspora and my connection to Vietnam; as a dream and the actions of reminiscing.

The lullaby itself is a traditional method of the mother passing down folklore and song to her child. Reflecting on my own journey; this would be an amazing project to pass down to future generations.

When recreating it as a children's book format I use the accordion fold method so that when the audience folds out the entire book, it becomes one big landscape of Vietnam. Emphasizing on how far away Vietnam is, and how it's out of my reach. 

(monsoon, kneez 2020 ︎ audio clips from 🇻🇳 mixed with instrumentals via Garage Band + Arcade)

The Rest of Yesterday ︎ A Lullaby


Việt Nam Ơi,
I miss you very much
I think of you, every day
But you are so so far away

So I’ll see you in my dreams,
And when you come to me...

I smell cà phê sữa đá,
that drips and drops
there’s a fresh,
cold cup of coffee
to wake me up.

As the sun rises
the country does too,
I found peace,
and bliss with you.

Do you feel that warmth?
it coats your skin
just as much as
The Vietnamese grins! :)
In the noon, auntie cooks me
a hot bowl of phở,
and offers fruits like;
chôm chôm, măng cụt,and dừa

On the back of a Moped,
I’ll hold on to you tightly,
We rush through busy streets,
constant *hONk-HoONKss*
and *beEEep-BEEePs*

My dear Việt Nam,
A monsoon weeps for you,
It comes crashing down roads
humidity steeps in blue,

As the sunsets
ever so slightly,
The moon cools
Việt Nam, forever nightly.

As I drift back in bed,
I’ll say cảm ơn instead
for letting me be
my most complete, me.

Dậy đi em, it was just a dream.

*INDEX*

cà phê sữa đá:
vietnamese iced coffee

phở: vietnamese noodle soup

chôm chôm: rambutan

măng cụt: mangosteen

dừa: coconut

cảm ơn: thank you

Dậy đi em: wake up, babe




                                                                  ︎“Hiểu Không?”︎︎︎