I want the water to be less salty
like my tears
I want more thunder
to drown out the sound
of a song I love
Listen to the sea afternoon
drag away with it the memories
the footprints on the sand
the pits left behind by bombs in the forest
the pools full of tears
the fresh mud and devastation
Congratulations to you sir, you’re yet forty-six, your mother gave birth to you standing up, her legs wide open. You poor thing, did you bump your head on the way out? You read books, you know how to spell, you know how to compose poetry?
You’re like a rock boulder, me, the falling rain
A lifetime I’ve followed the wind
And you are right there ever since
A lifetime I’ve rounded up the clouds
Gosh the storms by the hour there about
What are you, a rock? Please don’t
Please don’t wait for me.
Categories
Tô Thùy Yên | DECEMBRE BLUES (1:1)
Eight years I hid in mine heart
The travelling sword of my youth
For the morrow sky returns
Myself forth brings a tornado.
The new year your son can’t come home
Mountains rivers still part the hearts,
In love sends wishes aged old
Mum and dad are bamboo blooming.
Nỗi đau tột cùng
ong đốt,
làm em khóc
đau đớn một lần
ôi tiếng cười của anh
như bình minh
Categories
Đinh Trường Chinh | a grey Sunday
in the thoughtlessness of the day
I remembered
my face
like forever I’ve seen it last
Here ends my fight
here I say goodnight
in the dying light
my last reservation
my might.
Categories
Lê Vĩnh Tài | The book of poems (267)
we’ve both reserved
endlessly the fear
like an explosion reversed in old batteries
the empty holes and calls after that
daunting
every time there was a
beep beep
Categories
Pháp Hoan | Haiku 41 (39)
The sunlight high
the front yard white
with the hues of evaporating prayers
the empty anger spat
into a river
a flask of flowers on the table
a bunch of quivering roses
the leaves closing up in the night
to open up in the early morning light
Categories
Đình Nguyên | My departure (26)
The dusk from long ago
afloat drifting
a flicker from within memory
appeared
a distant red eye
fell to the depth of the closing day
in
my departure
By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm A guy in a full charcoal suit begged – look I’ll pay you a hundred. I was on holiday in London, and was on the receiving end of that call. – please, two hundred, two fifty. There was a long silence, as we agreed. Holding onto the hundred years old […]
Did someone wise say – when you close your eyes, you’re totally alone… or the like.
Những hàng cây xảo quyệt
Những cây sậy cứng cội thì thào
Chúng nó không biết đi
Em khóc làm chi
The rows of deceitful trees
The tall stiff rustling hearsay
They don’t know how to walk
Why cry
Baby
don’t cry
the barbwires will hold us up
teach us how to walk
Bạn thích, bạn yêu, thì thế giới này là của bạn./
If you enjoy it, love it, then the world is your oyster.
The aim of the fancy meaningless wordplay in poetry causes everyone to doze off as though they’re high on opium is a despicable act a reader finds difficult to forgive. Someone born to be a poet always has the ability to pull the reader along with them through the endearing chaos of all the senses to the very endpoint of clarity.
Perhaps that is the true power of poetry and true poets.
in the thoughtlessness of the day
I remembered
my face
like forever I’ve seen it last
mát chỗ đó có thì thào em thích
êm êm chỗ nào kìa anh của em
ê ê tê tê sột soạt ổ chim chích
