1.
truly unlucky for all of us
truly unlucky like that
humanity continues to lose the battle
because of a virus
humanity bleeding
because of our greed and selfishness
we’re so quick to forget we thought
we’re all one with God high in heaven
truly unlucky a number of us
think they’re better than other people
and God have chosen them
like Him, the one and only
truly unlucky a number of us
only use Him to worship to deluding themselves
our soul now as black as the clouds
in a thunderstorm
now even God is dead
in our meaningless worship
allowing evil to reside
in our darkness
truly unlucky a number of us
more evil than the devil himself
(300)
2.
still a place to live
still space left to love
still space left to hate
still space left to forgive
still space left to change
still space left to breath
still space left to believe
still space left to fall apart
just no space left in the hospital so we can be admitted
3.
you may see that Saigon is struggling
people are exhausted
but Saigon will stand firm
no matter how tough it might get
people wrestled
and shoved
cornered
Saigon will have the brightest smile
though all Saigon want is to cry
Saigon will fight
though it’s destined
and you can see that Saigon is all up in arms
but you will never see
Saigon fall
the nights are full of tears
and the dawn of the elderly
by their wheelchair a takeaway container of rice dangling
but in the end, after all that
Saigon will welcome any stranger
come with their dreams come
to be welcome with open hearts
Saigon always forgives
itself
and the mistakes of others
and everything
shall pass
but this time Saigon is full
full of resentment
and regret
4.
we can pray together today
names of the dead are still on a list in line for food
the dead doctors are still treating their patients
we’re safe
we’re strong
who’s alive and who’s dead
please pity us all the same
we can but
put on our mask
cover up the deep dark sadness
we shed red tears, the terrifying thirst
we search for the moment of truth
death comes with a slight drawback
we moan we groan
we leave it to fate of those
who dawdles and blame anyone they could
obsessed with blood
the last cry of the heart
we always ask why
as he stepped out
protected by these grand numbers
the zeroes full of hope
we all stare at him
in view of the gold
a beauty of a laboratory
but he is a beast
to us a gift from the Creator
the sacred forts destroyed
not a single soul in the empty streets
the parrots covered up the entire sky
each time he waves his hand
now
these numbers of his shall be forgotten
cough and sneeze the weapon of choice for any serial killer
black shall be the colour of our reminiscence
but remains white shall be the face on the coins
like the clouds
like a dove flying
a song of hope rising
like the white flag signalling the sunrise
we all looked at him
a person who like to view the dead as the beauty one finds in a storm
(September 2021)
5.
you’re in a city
far away, the shimmer, overwhelmed with the scent of memories
one hundred and twenty one days in a cardboard box
in the air you inhale
a war is brewing
brought with it the nightmares
bigger than the clouds the shape of a mushroom
you were ready
like the refugees
fed with charitable meals
made with fire
your breath slower
you flew over the empty streets, until
the horizon is like a letter box
full of junk mail
you have a full tank of petrol but the tires were flat
there’s nothing left to do
but walk and walk
until your breath
resounds in time with the sunset
July, the month of the lost souls
flooding rain
the people you know are now very cold…
(302)
6.
after a meal of fire
everyone had to line up two metres apart
I went home
the street, the house, the praying
not a poem
“remember the days when asleep upon the trees were the blooms of sunlight
the memorable days…”
the verses I used to hold in my mouth
to pay for the labour of flying over my grave
a cold river
on the other side of consciousness
probably nearly there
since the swimmers are exhausted
the last few breaths upon reaching the destination
breathless like a confession
wading into a river
there’s no words of blame from the people waiting in praise
in each successful directive
an order for the wind
an order for the fever
an order for the hunger
the command
the command
the command
the commands
the dead turning into white grains of ashes
the living turning into strands of white hair
everything quickly closes up
so they may continue with their praise
(September 2021)
7.
your beauty resides in tears
across the floor of the battlefield unfurling
those who no longer has a choice
between life and death
the single injection
in every step
you’re further from their view
louder were the echoes
the cries for help
from within the cardboard boxes
you’ve come to terms with taking to the sky from a point of nothing
but instead of seeking harmony
they seek the enemy
at your side talking quietly
all they want is
flesh and blood
skin and bone
hair and more hair
in the reservation and exhibition of their mind
whether incredulously
or in zealot
they also carry this burden
in their enthusiastic melancholy
and the devastating emptiness
in the minds of those in servitude
when they agree everything must end
you can but wish them then
not peace
in a parting curse from four thousand
years ago…
(296)
8.
it will be a long night
we’re not broken pieces
we only know how to break
ourselves
we’re not the intent
we’re not the password
we’re the affirmation
right and wrong
we study them
learn from them
self control
we threw the white flag in surrendering
kept our composure when all the dancing turned bad
we’re exhausted from waiting
the lass appeared with the winter in her eyes
with a heart drowned by loneliness
the howling wind, brought with it the sadness
while land and country were all up in air
flying in shreds and ashes
(September 2021)
9.
the storm in your chest exploding
you breathe
your heart turning to stone
you breathe
the spirit did inadvertently
you breathe
the doctors still loves
you breathe
you can see that you can’t breathe
the dreams in the middle of the day
sprouting from within your veins the poetry
you take one breath after the other until your heart beats again
until the black and blue bruising fades
so gentle be the arrival of the night
so the sunrise may show up in orange yellow lights
I will breathe
even when none of us will have enough oxygen
(294)
10.
now (em)you’re nothing but smoke
the old days are long gone
my poetry now in ashes
do you know what the remains(bones) means?
when will it be spring
will you be making bánh chưng
I’m so cold though the fire is burning
no longer do you know winter
your backache no longer
the slipped disc healed
though the lungs are in shades of tears
the respirator weeping
when when will it be spring?
(September 2021)
11.
you’ve drawn experience
drawn money
but this time you’ve drawn the respirator tubing
I wish I can do it, but I’m in agony
I had to call upon my Mother’s breath
curled up in hiccups choking for the last time
as the tubes are drawn
we possess always
the strength to overcome the adversity
but anger is not something
you can withdraw like you withdraw money
nor like someone’s drawn fingernails in an interrogation
withdrawal is the death of us
while my very cells thirst for the warmth of you
upon my skin your flesh
imprinted on my cornea the images of you
not unlike the cavern in my heart
the howling wind in my chest
I can’t breathe
I need to feel you
your withdrawal is killing me
I wanted to call you today
I wanted the echo of your voice in my ear
like a drug
before my withdrawal
you are the blade
the uncountable slits across my throat
but still I crave your gaze of steel
your pain
I miss you
like I miss the trial and tribulation of a lifetime
(291)
12.
the urn of ashes
could be of a mason
could be of a volunteer
could be of a poet
or a perpetrator
all woke up after a sleep
surrounded by rings of fire
no one burnt, no one hurt
but it was like thunder in their ears
no one was burned
since they were able to feel the heat
the thousand degree
the flaring of a flame from a past life
their debt unpaid
mass is mass is the mass
the mass of a pile of ashes
the sudden buoyant devastation
their debt unpaid
ashes are ashes are piles of ashes
alive they were part of the crowd
dead they’re lost souls
anxious piles of ashes
afraid of entering the wrong door, to not find their Mother
the promises with their last breath
burned together with hope
followed by dreams
the withered dreams
disintegrated in the unreachable places
as distant as your eyes (em) as distant as an entire life
now the truth is in the soil
the fallen ashes
all shall be forgotten
the scars on their flesh
only yesterday
the imprints on the urns
holding on still to the living
in the soil the scattered ashes in the river the scattered the ashes
a soul is praying for a second chance
he has two daughters hence
he can’t be ashes
ashes to ashes the glorious piles of ashes
glory glaring at glorious devastation
though it’s gloriously in ashes
though it’s a pile of flying ashes
but the urns of ashes is work
where you may give your best today
even when there’s no one left to pay
(290)
13.
dear air, inclusively all kinds
I’m breathing
face down in a wet pillow
drench in dreams
don’t worry I don’t need a hug from you
the meaningless gestures
the death of fun
the startling pain
as I was ripped from all attachment
I drank you like a cup of poison daily
like the first deep breath in the morning
a reminder
me
what’s the air like
like what is the air
and when there’s no way of knowing
I’m dissolved in my wife
she’s not poisoned by the suffocating idea of you
she screamed but I couldn’t hear her
I’m drunk
I sang
but she couldn’t hear me
what can I do to have a voice
she could hear?
what can I do
in a noisy world which sounds like it’s always breaking?
what can I do
so she can be more relaxed?
what can I do
when the world is full of wreckage?
each morning I wake up with a coffee
and a pillow
steeped in her fear
because there’s no spot left in the hospital
(October 2021)
14.
I’m dead and I’m at the moment apologetic
the band around my waist the poor elastic
it’s innocent
like me
I know because of me I’m dead
I’m not angry(rather calm actually)
my kids change of clothes needs a wash
the dishes too
I still owe my children their next meal
I know they’re there, they talk they mutter
taking turns throwing what’s left of my will and volition down the gutter
or was it the morgue
my thoughts
snapped in halves
you must remember that
nothing escapes
heaven and hell
the earth the sky
order and obedience
hellos and goodbyes
try not to overthink it
for the last time think about what you want
since there’s no blood left in your heart
not even a breath left
I’m the only one still breathing
but I can’t stop thinking about death:
– what will happen to me
when even the hospital won’t take me?
(October 2021)
15.
the doctors
they don’t have guns
they have stethoscopes
before the scope touches you
you may have forgotten
how to breathe
their pictures are not government notices
like a poem you’ve written in red ink
like bloodstains you could never completely removed
at the precipice of death, there are no arrows
as in a glance there are things more piercing
since our minds could never be enslaved
especially when one has to pay such a high price
before they accept their disappearing dreams
often because of a single missing test kit
or a few oxygen tank
they protect our flesh as the night fades
so our skin and bones won’t turn into dust
before we lose those we love
they try their best to talk to you through the stethoscope on your chest
when your chest is swollen and inflamed
when all you cough up is red
before all is forgotten
before all we could think about is to stock up on instant noodles to survive
before you’re committed to will and testimony to either preserve or destroy
they’ve already spread your wings
so you may infinitely fly
and if
the stethoscope happened to fall onto your chest
the way you fall in love
the way a bee falls for a flower
the way a poem ponders love through the inkpot
the way they stayed up all night
then the entire world is a stethoscope
blessed with the grace of miracles
the colours on an artist’s painting
to attract the readers’ attention
like the impending hope
of a respirator
before the stethoscope misses the breaths in your lungs
like paper burning up a poem
made them cry
so you can continue to dream
the dreams in bouts of breathlessness…
(288)
16.
I called myself a poet
but I can’t use metaphors
dare not convey wholly how I feel
the rivers of vehicles
on the road
a country beaten
I called myself a poet
but who am I
but a tired child
holding onto my little brother/sister
behind my mother?
I called myself a poet
but I’m afraid of living
so much so that I’m all choked up dead
in a room for three days and no one knows
I manage, I have my ways
the way I found love
and despair
long ago
Can you see?
Can’t you see that?
I wanted to believed it was the dream
but in the end
all I wanted was to be truly by your side
you’re so far away
perhaps you’re dead
perhaps you’ve been chased off Duy Tân
the tree lined boulevard
shade for bloodshot eyes burning hot skin
all my senses and I
what’s pulsing through my veins
not feeling any pain
any childish
yearning for summer
up at dawn to meander the streets with friends
and not sleep and dream…
(293)
17.
Mimosa darling, where are you from?
did you mistake me for someone else, I’m Covid-19
no pop-star has as many followers as me
no influencer has as many followers as me
no poet has as many followers as me
I’m a flame that turns everything into ashes
bodies are on fire in homes
on fire on the stretchers, on fire in the streets
the poor and the rich
the enemies trying to steal the islands the ocean
have lowered their guns
aiming the barrel at me
I will destroy what’s left of your meals together
I will destroy any hope you have left
you cover your faces with masks as blue as the sky
you think you’re clean because you’ve washed your hands
you sleep soundly
believing my destruction isn’t your fault
nations curled up in fear
they’ve learned from me the way they’ve learned from history
long before I was born
as though they’re
ignorant of murder
without them then, who gave birth to me
and how did I get to be 19 today?
(283)
18.
the poem is a baguette
as the sun sets
as the painted white roofs fell asleep
all have left the shops
in search of the moon
armed with a baguette and a poem Mother took to the sky flying
since up there Mother could buy and sell dreams
oh aching crack heels fly fly higher
since after treading hundred and hundred miles home
here your children will have food to eat
here there’s a room where your children can sleep
children, children you can eat the baguette Mother bought
the meal it’s not a viral infestation
it’s a fairy tale
Mothers tell their children
just in case she has a fever in the future
when mucking around with food or baguette
children you must with prayers save each other
pray, pray and pray
to gain their pity
the nights always welcoming
but the prayers seem a waste of time
children you should eat only half the baguette to save your Mother
the other for when you wake up
use the soft inside of the roll to mob up the tears
since in heaven there is only happiness
19.
they’re by our side
the slowly congealing darkness
in the air
and what’s left into us
it silently permeates
like the rain
Did I meet you at that particular lunch?
when everything has slowed down for siesta
everything was old, everything was dead
in layers of dust
in a period when sleepy was time
(303)
20.
up up and away up high a city was choking
far far away was a round table for the kings who could barely see
red lights dancing in time with the airborne bone fragments
as though someone was trying to blow life back into a pile of ashes
and the people that the city has no strength left to bear
the people leaving with no thought of return
they’re so far away from home that they’ve forgotten who they were
nothing but the wind dancing by their side
mid a hot summer
the rising stench of death
they danced until their tears dried up
until pain was nothing but a memory
they refuse to die even in the nights they couldn’t breathe
death arriving early as the city wakes
when we’ve forgotten they have once lived
here, they came and dreamed of a day of return
always returning
always always returning
even when there’s no hope
(303)
21.
they say it will end in another month
when the wind heats up
it’s six in the morning
it’s dawning and you’re still fast asleep
I messaged you
to check if you’re still alive
all will end but how will it all end
since still waiting is the wind
even when there’s no place left for you to go
even when your feet no longer touches the ground
(303)
22.
it began in a whisper
like the sound of a raven in a sleepless night
and we would stare at the rain
fall upon the stars the entire night
like the dust on our lashes
we listened to their cries
saw their tears
spilled out the window sills
wetting all the walls
the way the Germans edged their names on a wall
a rainy world war
all night it has rained
for a while now
the wall the colours of tears weepy dissolving
both sides of the alley trembling
the world searching for a lighter place
after ceased was the tightness
in your chest
(303)
23.
it’s nothing but a short romantic tryst
like that of the bee and a flower
when the petals are dead
but the bee return still
buzzing around dancing
waiting for a new flower to bloom
love that flower
just as much as the one before
as though these flowers all smell the same
but people are different
no one has a story like yours
no one has the kind of troubles you have
no one smells like you
even after you’ve been dead in an alley for three days
even though they’re busy
busy with the supplies of instant noodles
and the way we have let you go
consuming the sun and the tears
secretly waiting
not like the bee searching for nectar
we’re hopeful when we’re in love
not like the bee
our wings are broken
not like the bee
the city’s a concrete jungle
there are no flowers for you to return to
as that teary lover
(303)
24.
it’s impossible to recall a dream
often unsteady on one’s feet
her remembering the day she was a bride
the changes behind
the white
veil
the white
now of a hospital
it flows when she’s asleep
like her mother’s milk
hence the king is naked
and many soldiers
are injured
the sun
heating up, hot
shimmering crystals as though she’s still alive
the law
someone without legs
sitting on a gold dias
much like a wheelchair
paralyzed…
(October 2021)
25.
gently gently as gently as gently goes
a heart like yours inevitably suffers so
leave the Sun to its liberty
allow your laughter to roam free
until the air is light
allows the tangerine leaves to take flight
gently gently, you should be
the coveted clouds beneath the brows
your eyes are in the dark now
the city under house arrest
thus when will you be new year’s eve
amongst the drifting incense upon the dawn of the first
lightly you step hindered by fate
afraid the readers may slip off the bridge of your nose
the delivery person is not someone who’s seeking a place to hide
they bring with them the sympathies
collecting the delivered fees
easy, take it easy please
when faced with
the destruction of a citadel
(October 2021)
26.
nighthall and you’re by the tiny window
the cafe deserted
the owner is locking up
reminds you that tomorrow is already the sixteenth
you’re bent over on the table
flicking burning cigarette embers into the ashtray
you watched the owner tidied up the bottles hand sanitizers
listened to the last song he has on still
you live in a tiny house
your wife felt suffocated as soon as you shut the front door
but you shut it anyway
worried you might lose the pair of shoes
you looked up at the cloudy sky
not a soul in sight
you think we’re the centre of the universe spinning
the viruses knows that we’re whining
the nights endless and you’re silent
gosh the abandoned alleyways
imprisoned were the crowd inside their cough
(October 2021)
27.
life is eternal? keep dreaming
in silence, they
they keep saying happiness is beyond our reach
decline is upon revival
within the flowers in paradise
beyond the salty drops in the nose
not one flower not even a pebble
you have to reach out to touch hell
but life goes on
attached to the ECMO machine
(October 2021)
28.
the sail drifted away
something died?
you stood by the sea
till you see her disappeared into the horizon
and someone muttered, “she’s gone”
where did she go?
she’s beyond your vision
someone repeated, “the lady’s gone”
then some saw her drew nearer
a giddy horizon out there full of laughter
“the lady is finally here”, and that’s when you’re slowly dying
just before your body was 70% vaccinated
(October 2021)
29.
no one believes in death
you do not believe in it either
someone will come and steal your breath
not your life long possessions
you don’t have a grave either
where they save guard us in the heart of the earth
you turn into a handful of dust
ready to be born again
we shall rise above the nine heavens
you’ve once dreamed of
an adventure full of regret
if only it was your turn to use the respirator
you’re left behind long ago
you just didn’t know
we all cry to you said our goodbyes
so if you’re sad
it’s just regretful that your grandfather was no one of importance
so you may wade through
another dream
(October 2021)
30.
how shall we say goodbye to this world?
the pain of a sky
on the verge of breaking?
you’re left behind nearest to sleep
you love still the trees dotted with sunlight
you felt the resounding green bells within
the warm breeze
across a horizon scattered with clouds
why must everything die?
spring shall never come to be
frivolity and Death waiting by the door
death is a pale red
you don’t know how to stop
the fools
who make you sing as the Sun fly
(October 2021)
31.
you lit the stove
because you hate the dark
and the cold
you fiddle with the flame
picking
prodding
mumbling
and it ends with the howling wind
your by the ashes
in the flying embers
and the dust
seemed to be scented with the smell of
the early morning chill
you’re erect
by her stove
thin
hollow
eyes wide open
like the futile cough
of the guy next door
you’re fiddling
with the words
f-f-f i-re
l-l-l i-a-r
to be finally rid of the poem
so you may-be the rain
so she may breathe as though
she’s never known oxygen
(October 2021)
32.
when you laugh the world laugh with you
but when you cry you cry alone
the earth is worn, withered and sad
we borrow it’s reflection
in view of our tears
and the raindrops say
you have joy still, yay
you may refuse the wine forced upon you
but you must consume life
like the way we breathe day after day
like the way your daughter takes her books to school
otherwise she’ll be in trouble with her teachers
the world drifting by
no matter how suffocating we have still
a veranda long and far till
one person at a time in a line, then us all
will have apply in the forms fill
to cross the thin narrow path of sadness
just like that…
(October 2021)
33.
don’t worry
don’t worry about how young I am
don’t worry about how old I am
don’t worry about how I cry
don’t worry about how I dream
don’t worry whether the Sun will rise
don’t worry whether it might fall off
don’t worry about how I might make it
fly again
like how she’ll never come back
don’t worry about me as though I’m a child
don’t worry about me
we’re constantly worrying
day after day we worry
we worry about breakfast, we worry too about lunch
worry about what we’ve done
worry about what might happen
worry about stuff
worry about health
worry about tomorrow
worry about sadness
worry about time
worry about the crime
worry about the past
worry about what’s beyond reach
the world end as per the Creator
all you need to do now is to live as much as you desire
love all the people in your life, you admire
(October 2021)
34.
like a silkworm in its cocoon
you’re wrapped up in the worries
you’re relentless
you’re helpless
without the vaccines we have still sadness
the small consolation
as you ascend like angels
with not a scar
except the salty saline would burn your eyes
it rained
then came the deaths
the artist Lê Thánh Thư passed away
his daughter message that it was sudden and quick
Nguyễn Viện cried
Trần Tiến Dũng cried
Đỗ Trung Quân cried
Thận Nhiên all the way in Vung Tau also cried
Fat Nhân in Saigon also cried
powerless we tore off the pages of the calendar
good people never disappear
they farewell us
the way the Sun temporarily disappear in the rain
helplessly
we stare into our bowls of instant noodles
we talk and we talk
forgetting high in the sky
an artist had just away fly
with not enough time to remove his mask and breathe
(October 2021)
35.
the clouds looked down at the ground
at the blind buggy pulling a street cart
maybe the driver was blinded by a glare
his daughter too
no one ran
no one hid
you’re a child
saw what? the buggy twisted flipped over
and the bunches of vegetables as withered as Mother
like the clouds that only knows
how to look down at people
not the air, it’s time
there’s a space between the rows of trees
and an old revolution that has disappeared into darkness
nearly an entire block was abandoned
you’re there to gather the fear
the way people gather mushrooms
but you’ve been duped
because this is not a poem
you’re just getting closer to the truth
and its terror
once upon a time made you disappear
you won’t tell people where it is
the darkness in the forest
where the light may not touch
the crossroads full of ghosts, the leafy Eden
you listened
thought it was a poem
about trees
like the spruce
used to make guitars
you used to make the music note
in each aching lonely moment
even as you were thrown away
after the hymn…
(October 2021)
36.
light from the darkness thick from within the soul
who has surpassed the nightmare
whose eyes are downcast in hopelessness
gosh the birth of oblivion?
it’s all a waste of time
the dreams, the imagined
me, denying the aspiration of the soul
the emptiness and the cold
switch off your voice, my friend
just scream
if I do not understand
let me be, we’re all aware of the noise out there
the constant issue of new travel permits
only the doctors are left in oblivion
(October 2021)
37.
you act as though the beer is so frothy and brimming
as though it’s the joy of a battle
the agonizing passwords
shouting
who are you why are you still spying on me?
who are to think I would give up
you’re stopped through any open gap
yet still, you would peak into each mount each grave
light the incense
ah, a grave far out there is wait just for you
there’s no such thing as a sustainable memory
though in the garden Eden you kept dreaming
at being eternal
while you’re nothing but a delivery we must sign for
holding onto our shirt pockets
you time yourself by two
like a virus
(October 2021)
38.
the night oppressive
outside a storm was viciously brewing
the lions were locked up in the isolation areas
like zombies
the bluish pale stars, the signs you missed
from the eternal
up high
now people are searching for messages from you
even when romance can’t be cooked up and served
teach me so I’ll know how to amend
the iron curtain of the future
gosh the unnecessary clouds
from a sickly soul
the son of this earth may fly
towards the epitome of liberty?
the isolation area dense like a forest
but it’s too bright, way too bright
where the moon is brilliant within my heart
because of the tranquility of the forest
tonight I’m shaken
upon each flower, each curled up leaf
as though my daughter have just graduated from university
she and her friends stuck together
like a string of pearls coated in droplets of first-contact
there the waves quietly drifts by
the reflections of the stars
sinking into the depths, drowned out
they allowed me only now a bath
perhaps they think when I’m not sad
I’m not grubby or that bad
perhaps the eyes gets in the way of sadness
there where there are suffocating mountain peaks
suffocating clouds
I can not breathe
I’m waiting for the impending autumn storm
since the night wind has already been
sounding like the crowing of a rooster: cock-a-doodle-do
until my soul fully fall
Facing fear I’m like a moth
confused
even as you tried to pacify the temper of the night
by you on a long flight
when suddenly you decided to accelerate
cock-a-doodle-do
don’t omit a single music note
as the storm pass by
as though the shroud embodied the mist
sliding down from up high
gosh when
when may I see your crown
as regal as the virus?
now you’ve covered up all the dark deep chasm
like poem that has not found it’s aim
like a storm viciously brewing
an onion budding
so much so doubled was my debt
doubled the suspicion
doubled the fear
it turned out you’re the one who has turned me into a virus
like doubled were her breast
doubled were her thighs
an image of humanity that can never be destroyed
there’s no tranquility in life as there is none in the tombs
there’s no eternal peace
cock-a-doodle-do
I want to be the alluring soul
detrimental to other souls
me, the enchantment of the mountains
the nation
battered bones
in remnants of the flesh
(October 2021)
39.
ah, but it’s now autumn
the poems are riding on the waves
cock-a-doodle-do
where once the mood picks up
autumn is then heartbreaking
and for the last time pondering through the yellow leaves
you get a chance to be at a place carpeted with cheerful flowers
gosh how could I lose the leaves, where are you?
even when it comes to your pain
you lie
the whispering of the vernacular kind and fair
still without leaves we have thorns and memories
by us remains
just the scars, but I love you so much dear
so so much
and we all wear just our mourning bands when there are no flowers left
dignifying the graves
sacred places
to a point that all we can do is stand there
and watch and cry
(November 2021)
40.
the memories will still be there
as we sat in our quiet alley
take our mask off and chomp on our bread roll
ahead the days are long, we’re lazy
we’re allow to drift into these rainy nights
to dream again the times
we’re side by side
life now is nothing but
the pungent damp smell of tar road
waiting for the end of the week after
the deserted alleyways
the Sunday picnics
replaced by online games
the world growing bigger and bigger
until the murderers quietly changes the game
but the moments are more peaceful
so we may again dream
social distancing?
a kind of virus?
an experiment in a world laboratory?
the desolate dance of autumn
the empty playgrounds and shopfronts covered in sunlight
a metropolis fading away with the last bit of petering light of freedom
each wedding as quiet as the other
since the initial confrontation is pointless by drones
and pilots
since the most forgotten prayed for death in silence
waiting for the sad faces of children
more attractive now are tongues due to the avoidance of the savage infection
the apolitical sadness of anguish
completely neutralized as though fear is not contagious
and it was possible to manufacture freedom
like a verse just vaccinated ended positive with covid
checked itself awkwardly into isolation
(November 2021)
41.
secretly come to me like the mist in December
I will hide you my love like those positive with covid
wrap you in fear
the nation is nothing but dust and ashes dear
newspapers publishing stolen poetry
the pressure on school students struggling to escape
the law standing by silent
the fights like rapists leaving a path of destruction in their wake
the shouting matches at a time no cares to plagiarize
trying to make a living
trying to be charitable
the nation is in crippling pain
watching the charities moaning about highway robberies
watching the thieves moaning about those charitable
gosh the sacred house of the poem
bearing the dawn of summer in the middle of a cold winter
(November 2021)
42.
we have no desire to be part of history
but here we are
in our house wider than the wind
our anxious heart wading
across a gorgeous dream
roses and instant noodles
the front lawn and dust after the rain
mountains penetrating the sky
the thousand anthem of the wind
the summer the rain and frothy waves
living a dream the colour of green emeralds
but we can’t sleep
our mind anxiously checking for fevers
coughs and the deletion of our lungs
the time stolen, frozen, melted
in our hands
we let it go and it would shakily leave
fly, crawl, drag itself away slowly just to be sure
inhaling and exhaling quietly
filling up
we expand like a balloon
and time is as hollow as our stomach
burping infinitely just a bit
ways to make a living
facing the long nights ahead
we could never imagined such a long day
time ceasing, stayed
the four walls of the past, the present, the future, history
but we’re already here
(November 2021)
43.
and we’re amidst a dream
like the writers on the history of bats’
infestation of disease
the nation borders, the city
re-drawn
not with maps
but with unjustifiable test applications
faking the positive and negative results
the deception now more rampant than ever before?
a couple hundred thousand Dong or a few kilos of rice
like playing with dice
the money steeped in blood
the poor are always the first to die
there are the lovers who couldn’t bear it
broke the barriers at the isolation camps
like cockroaches spread the virus
then there are the pairs who did bear it
held each other until she stopped breathing
like the way we’ve slept all our life
the courtyard coffees you(em) the angel as green as the leaves
we’re trapped in a cloud
drifting
over the earth
over the forests, the old roads
homes with sprinklers shimmering like the rain
we wash our hands and we wash so much stuff
because someone might see us and cast spells on us
stop us from talking
through the layers of cloth masks
we’re naked on a long slow tedious journey
that those who did note history long ago
won’t necessarily share the same ordeal…
(November 2021)
44.
those who don’t make vaccines and makes only travel permits
often don’t remember
during the gaming battle online
the gamer only wants to kill and destroy
egging for cheers from all around
we’re never bothered about congratulating anyone
we’ve barely enough time to breathe
we search for the last remaining star
not like some who believe they’re it
as the star
they never fail
but trying are people
her eyes were glazed over as though she wants to kill someone
she can have a million likes for no reason
so everything is for sale?
clanking dollar and cents dreaming of being charitable
or are we the sound of bells ringing during the coronation
of blind babies from birth
we forget not the calling of our heart
the prediction of everything falling apart
confirming the pain with the scream of the night
the howling wind and husky voice of a ghost
together with curses of those who can’t reincarnate
all over Youtube
we are the bells
ringing noisily chasing after the angels
at the most senseless moment of a dream
on our hair in the millions, the thousand sunrise
causing our forehead to blacken in the loneliness
of the Holy Spirits used by dark clouds
now are mere spectres
we wander
eyes turning towards the imperial city of long ago
the magic of warlocks and fairies in our wildest dreams
now the idols of the gods are buried in mud and deluge
by the most despicable vernacular
used by the nameless in the name of greed and money
we’re helpless
witnessing the impotent kindness of humanity
the reign of evil
(November 2021)
45.
and you’ve lost an entire life learning
looking back at your life on the rickety hospital bed
found that in your heart
there were a lot left to say
say it for
the battered heart
the detained
the lonely
the persistently arrogant
say it also for
those who has died without an answer
why did I die
say it even when
the poem is nothing at all
so don’t cry
life may seem odd to you
in its roundabout ways
and I hope you won’t lose an entire life to learn
because poetry is something very common
like how breathless you and her were climbing up a hill
jigging school
and learn that to fly, you don’t always need wings
learn that a smile can take you far and wide
learn that love is never wrong
and learn that mistakes makes you stronger
learn that crying is okay
learn how to “dream on” – never cease to dream
learn to be your number 1 fan
learn to listen to other people’s pain
learn to sing and dance in the rain
when the poem is still
weeping…
(November 2021)
46.
did you know that
since the beginning, all the poem in this World was intangible
not just viruses
appeared in the middle of summer
like a storm in Mother’s womb
appeared
with all that is without meaning
appeared
about religious faith about national pride about democracy
appeared
about liberalism, and all that begins with
heaven and earth turning Mother’s son into a poem
like the flashing thunder slipping out of mother’s womb
in the scent of tears steeped in mint
drifting through Papa’s bedroom window
the rain seemed as though steeped in flower petals
and Papa dipped his head in the glass wine
together with the uncles in celebration his son’s birth
the battle
could only be resolved elsewhere
at far away seas
now we’re all fighting the enemy from our home
and I ran
wade across the spring, climbed up the tree, walked a thousand miles and jumped
only my exhausted Mother ran after me
I fell in love for the first time when I was 12
when I questioned where I came from?
or was I born together with the poems
hence it’s my destiny to return to the intangible
I became ashes
the earth, completely empty
but for the gods flying around gliding
so they had to come up with a death note
the sound of the printer screeching like the bells from hell
the scent of the new paper fragrant
as though it was a poem as though it was piece of art
as substantial as a virtual account online deleted by them
life is as I’ve imagined
my fear is as intangible
as a poem that requires only 3 words:
– death, intangible, deception…
(November 2021)
ten faithful devotions, or the epilogue for the Saigon lockdown epic poem…
—–
47.
The terrifying weeks, me waiting in front of the closed supermarket.
she was just behind me, her lips blue due to the cold, and of course in her entire life she has never heard of me. quietly in my ear she confided: will there be anyone left to tell other people what happened here
I answered, yes, I will
there was something like a smile, skimmed across the surface of what used to be a face
48.
a mountain would have collapsed in view of such pain
the two colour tapes strung across the doors
like the way we bang the cell door shut at the detention centre
the agony upon death
upon someone the would be gentle breeze of old
the setting sun would gently warm them
but now the breeze is the virus
we’re unaware
we would then saunter here and there
with what’s left of our energy
like a phone out of battery
but someone was still tapping on the keyboard
you listen to the tapping of the keyboard
now the heavy footsteps of security guards
we shall meet again
as the dead, lifeless
the sun sets daily beyond the respite room’s window
yet hope continues to persistently sing
the lyrics accusative even of tears
the unjust complete isolation
as though a beating heart was suddenly torn apart
in the most painful possible way
as though functioning lungs were suddenly erased
photoshopped
she lay there, while in the cruelest possible way
you walked away
where are you now, my reluctant companions
the security guards at the gate
have you upon the morning witnessed the miracles in the tiny alley
the shimmering circles around the moon
what they’re supposed to be
before you wave your baton?
or maybe you’re just as hungry
sending to all of you now my greeting
there’s nothing essential under your magical baton
goodbye
49.
this is how it came about
when the dead smile
happy now that God have set them free
like priceless icons, the continuous applauds
the wolf whistles, the break up songs
the death stars up high
we’re all innocent
we didn’t manage to get our vaccine
swaying with the siren of the ambulance
drifting like the sails out at sea
in despair amidst a storm
you’ve been taken away at dawn
dead bodies must be removed
so the children in the darkness of their homes can stop crying
in the flare of one candle flame
the chill settled now
on your lips
50.
silently drifting like a river
the watchful yellow moon
leaning through the window your shadow
you’re alone
and the moon saw the woman lying in the home
her son was also dead
you’re lying there by a prayer
was it her?
51.
not me, someone else is in pain
not her husband
he’s out collecting food donations from various charities
it was not like that
what just happened, just
cover it with a dark cloth, then allow the torches to light up
the night
the giggle, the teasing, now my love, we’re all victims
because we’re blameless, we need to be picked up and separated from the community or else
all the civil servants will be unemployed
if only you knew
how life would pan out
the unexpected love
who knew you would end up as a doctor
how soundlessly
your hot tears would fall
how many innocent lives have been taken
in the last twelve weeks, I’ve been shouting, asking you to come home
I’ve been on my knees in front of the executioner
the rioting anarchy everywhere
I could never tell the difference
between the animals and the humans, waiting for the indefinite death row
nothing remains except for the blooming ashes, the resounding cry, from somewhere to end up in nothingness, it glares at me threateningly through the destruction of fire, gosh why does my people possess such a big star
52.
time gently drifts and pass by, yet still, I can’t seem to work out what’s just happened, how did night ended up in such brilliant light
when shall they once more ignite
when shall be the incineration
gosh when when
shall we stomp our feet
see with eagle eyes
in all this talks of remains and ashes
53.
you’ve ascended like a boulder
upon my beating heart
my rib cage caved in
I was prepared
I will prepare for what is left to be done
I have a lot to do today
I need to destroy what’s left of my mind
turn this living soul into stone
in order to start living again
together with my wife and two daughters
but how?
we’re born again in an April hot summer
in the rustling breeze, the festivals just outside our window
I’ve come to terms with this revelation
the bright summer day and the abandoned home
the virus airborne escaped through the wells of the sky
the rising chaos
54.
I know you will turn up, but why can’t it be now?
I’ve been waiting for you, and it’s getting harder and harder
I’ve turned off the light, opened the door
in simplicity and joy I’ve waited for you
you can manipulate me, if this is what you want, let go of the frustration in your heart
the bruised fingers
it’s simple
you’re prepared to take me away, show me
the terrifying pale faces of the doctors
they’re like blue flames
gosh the tired eyes behind the protective goggles
you’re in love? why are you suddenly in love
when everyone have shut their eyes to hide from the terror at the end
55.
the overshadowing madness taking flight
the halving of my soul
quenching my thirst with its burning spirit
beckoning me towards the depths of despair
setting me free amongst the clouds
that’s when I knew
steeped within this stupor
perhaps alien by nature
we must commit our life
to it
not the fear in her son’s eyes
it has taken to the sky where it’s easier to breathe
the kind of pain bestowed in a boulder
on our chest at the end of a storm
not the tingling cool sweet touch of a pair of glove
tree shades already afraid of the dark
not the far away sound announcing the arrival of lightning
in the last few reassuring words
56.
the banging of the nail on the coffin
the crying not for me, oh mother
I’m living inside the tomb of my children
father, why did you abandon me?
but when my mother cried, she didn’t cry for me
I have learned how to bow low(not to raise my eyes)
how can we stopped the terror from escaping our eyes
how can sorrow be carved into granite
into the stoney cruel pages
the adeptness, the skill
what am I supposed to do
with the black and ashen strands of your hair
turning white suddenly overnight
I’ve learned how to watch for the fading smiles
giving into fear, the shaky hollow laughs
I’ve learned how to strangle my shadow
how to measure the oxygen saturation
measure the quality of the air that I thought was free
this is the reason why I do not just pray for me
but for all of us, the people standing here
at the foot of this completely blinding
towering, red wall
it’s time to remember
those who are gone
those who can no longer feel the weight
the layer of familiar soil beneath their feet
out of nowhere the sinkhole
we pray together
I’ve woven for you this generous shroud
I’m fearful the thousand screaming people
in my desire for them to remember me
when it’s my turn to die
when I’m howling like an injured animal
the rain will fall along with the tears
from my unmoving eyes
before all of us
like a boat drifting out to sea
like decades ago
damp till
now still
praise and glory praise and glory
eternal praise and glory to the dead
but what is left of such praise and glory?
but what does such praise and glory need?
when it’s also your turn to die indeed…
(refrain)
I know note all sadness in capital letters
The smile too in much nicer Capitals
The rain fell. Half the night and you’re drunk on the Purple cup of wine
Left the world of humans, The red flame in their stove.
Oh darkness
Black Mist. The earth isn’t hard, the air not bitter
The star gather to form the sign of the Devil
The footsteps turning into Stone, you running along the edge
Of A soldier’s field of vision heading into a Dark battle
Charge
The bitter bitter light of the moon
A red fox is the Angel doing all the strangling. The blue shaking marching feet and sad smiles, pride Draining the colour from their faces. In slEep, the soldier collapse on his own FortrEss
Oh rocky meadow the source of Living. Gosh the cruelty of those who have turned their back of the Cold colour of you
The colour of sleep is Black
When the Alarm goes off. The pInk day stepping forward in the colour Silvery light, everyone scramblinG through the East gAte
Gosh the pinkness gosh the Pink hues…
Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm 