poetry roundup

Each issue we feature pieces of prose and poetry from Asian women, nonbinary, and gender minority writers around the world. Here are this issue’s pieces!

You were sitting in the sun On the blue chair in my kitchen Sipping a cup of coffee That I told you was grown in the shade At the Ghanaian border. You found me as I hid myself away in the tall grass Fifty kilometers from the paved road. And thousands and thousands more between where you left us And where we left you. You were sitting in the sun On a bench outside a stone church, Where your youngest daughter In bridal white clutched her new husband’s hand Held in perfumed embraces A steady smile as the summer heat crawled its way beneath the tulle and the lace. I stood in the crowd and willed her to see you there But she held her tears inside longing for you. You were sitting in the sun When I thought I was the farthest away I will ever be. The sand in my eyes and in between my teeth. I held pieces of my broken heart in my hands And I threw them in the wind. You gathered them gently and brought them back to me. “Didn’t you know that I am in every piece?” My insignificant heart stopped breaking at the edge of the Sahara. In the vastness, I stood up and ran. Freedom in the light that I could never chase to its end. Maybe I never buried you at all.

This isn’t the first time But how many times Over how many generations Before you see that this isn’t the first time How many hundreds of years How many millions of lives Until you see— Do you see— Do you see now-No such thing as a model minority Do you see now— All the blood covering Your American dream Now do you see— We’re tokens and trophies Until we’re targets & scapegoats for the rage & the hate of a nation Where Our Skin is not white enough Our Skin is not brown enough Our Pain doesn’t hurt enough For anyone to care enough So we hide Lay low Lay down Erase ourselves Until we’re invisible Shadows of pleasure and Bodies of commodity Under the pressure To be Everything for everyone Swallow dignity No room for self-pity We eat silence and secrets Absorb violence and tragedy Centuries Of wars and thieves, Laws And policies sanctioning atrocities to rid the earth of yellow peril and perpetual foreigners except when we’re constructing your railroads or farming your sugar cane comforting your soldiers birthing babies for your white mothers pawns serving in your empires You think I’m here because I wanted to be I’m here because no one wanted me But only to fulfill their dreams Build their dreams Scream their dreams In my bed at night My daughter at my side Hold her close Hold her tight Pray & whisper I’m raising her right So she can see— No such thing As a model minority So she can see— No such thing As an American dream I rise I weep I fight Hoping She won’t ever have to see Her own blood covering Your American dream.

“you matter” by Divya Chhotani

the reason i tie a red string on my left arm is because my mother told me it wards away evil evil afar and evil inside the reason I don’t eat my crust still is because I want to stay connected to my inner child the one that loved to kick and scream and run around the playground and be like the other kids who used to sit at the lunch table and didn’t have crust on their pb&j’s the reason I started listening to one direction and taylor swift was to connect to my girlfriend and to understand and learn all the lyrics, a challenge I accept and will learn, to make her smile and happy so I can hold her close and tell her “does it ever drive you crazy” while we’re laying in bed and her hand is on my heart and we can finally say how the night has changed as we fall in love more as the seasons change and time comes and goes the reason i put chat masala on my popcorn is because I wanted to be like my mom who loves and adores spice just like I do and I’m always in competition with her to see who can tolerate the most spice the reason I came to school wearing a kurti, an Indian garment, during diwali time was because I wanted to show how proud I was of being part of a really rich culture likewise, the reason I got into sports was because my father and other male figures in my life introduced me to a ball and since then I fell in love with anything that was round and I could get my hands on whether it was a basketball or playing cricket on the street or even learning how to play volleyball and failing miserably with every bump the ball made, I felt more and more accomplished I feel like I always have to prove something to someone whether it’s identifying my emotions even though I don’t have the words to explain the tsunami of tears waiting to overflow from my eyes and ready to coat my lips with its salty sadness I feel like I’m behind people’s shadow when everyone else is out and about and I’m just stuck in the four corners of my house, going crazy and paranoid being locked in a room and not wanting to see daylight I realized that I stumbled upon darkness when I couldn’t even see the light I met my friend depression during multiple summers where I just lay on my floor drinking caprisuns and had junk food and re watched friends episodes, only to go back to bed and fall into the safety of my bed, who’s arms are safer than anybody I know I’m scared of watching new movies because I’m nervous of how it’s going to go? whether my favorite character that I took a particular liking to may face consequences or even struggle with an addiction or even perhaps dies due to heroic acts

I find comfort in rewatching old things because I know how the story plays out and there isn’t anything to be afraid, finally the monsters and evil things in the world can’t get to me if I’m safe and being protected by my favorite stuffed toy and my tears and legs working together to rock my limb body to sleep like a child in a craddle who is crying and needs a pacifer yet this child is learning slowly how to be more self reliant and self made. slowly but surely I believe that I can attain a sort of independence where I won’t need to turn to vices or believe that happiness isn’t in the cards for me it’s a new chapter where I can learn and nurture my inner child and not feed it the old habits I’ve tried so hard to break over the years the reason I started journaling was because someone once said it was super therapeutic the reason I started to write poetry was because one teacher during my youth said I could and then I did, I nurtured my craft and realized that every piece of work I create is like a child and I’m a child with a blank canvas that can paint my traumas and tears and make it art that can be relatable to someone who is in need someone who needs a reason to be alive someone who needs someone to hold them accountable yet be that person for them who is loving and caring I learned recently that the love I’ve been dealt with my entire life has only been conditional a love that I had to work for and prove my worth to get which isn’t fair I shouldn’t be fighting to gain love from people when all along the person I should’ve been giving love to was myself through all the hardships it should’ve been on me to plant and give my all in everything I’m doing. I’m allowed to have days where I can’t get out of bed and some days where I just can’t seem to see the silver lining but that doesn’t make me weak, it makes me strong by identifying and understanding what I need I can openly say here that it’s okay if you need anything and you’re allowed to speak up you’re allowed to choose who you give your love and time too and you telling people things about you that are personal doesn’t mean that you’re a burden, it just makes you so much more admirable and strong you’re beautiful and empowering because you’re a human being cut from one original cloth you matter.