Tribute to Trinh T. Minh-ha
There is no catching
No pushing, no directing
No breaking through, no
This story flows free
As my mind imagines space
Deeper than black holes
She says to unsay
Others so that others may
Unsay her and say
“We will silence you”
Your voice does not matter here
Your words mean nothing
A conversation
Of “us” with “us” about “them”
In which “them” is silenced
I want “them” with me
In my words and my silence
Loosed, untied, and free
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Remote village people
Together discuss matters
Of their community
Equal discussion
Issues, stories and gossip
circulates knowledge
Sentence-thinker, yes
Know how a sentence with end?
Find closure or not
Language as music
Listen intently, open
Leave it to reflect
To see the natives
As they see each other one must
Become the native
Impossible task
Perspective of life is fixed
biased it will be
This is the world in
Which I move uninvited
Neither me nor mine.
My world does not end
History is limited
Passing the blame on
She writes to possess
And dispossess herself
The power to write
When I write I live,
Breathe, die, laugh, cry—with the pen
I become “myself”
My false encounter
the other in me- the “thing”
He claims to capture
Power is in words
We are all writers inside
Speak when told not to.
Story long ago
A beginning but no end
Built on differences
Issues in our lives
The stories that need be known
We can’t be silent
A holder of speech
Our literary freedom
No guilt should be felt
We write to be heard
Put race and gender aside
And show your true self
Knowledge is what’s key
He can not take that away
Trace, void, and retrace
Open up your mind
Remember the power of words
Language is what’s free
It is a circle
There is no stopping it but
option discussion
Dont hold back speak up
Just relinquish the untold
Why not make it know?
Writing creates it
The capacity to act
without guilt if not
You can not touch me
I am relaxed, calm, and fearless
Without Biasedness
He does not have it
Knowledge is my acquaintance
You can not touch it
It will never end
Let not your word be silent
Live by persistance
***written by Autumn
Story never stops
We - you and me, she and he
Inexhaustible
A hushed legacy
Binding circle of people
Flowing words and sounds
To be a writer
Must be baptized and ordained
Driven obsession
Writer warrior
Shattering laws and fences
Against all the odds
By the Great Master
The lines flowing from a pen
Questions are loaded
Myth and fiction dreams
Curiosities galore
Where is our own truth?
Meetings are for truth
They skirt the truth matter of truth
It comes when ready
We mature by truth
The world is ever simple
Life is simple truth
Writers have power
Authors become their own words
Their words define them
Readers are unseen
They remain invisible
They being life to words
A being of words
Is a being of desire
A woman of words
Women are vessels
What they have inside fills them
Be it life, or death
The story never stops
Appears headless and bottomless
It built on differences
Differences we create
Are the reason for it existence
Binding all nations
She/he who writes, writes
And does not ask permission
In uncertainty
Even then word flow
Servicing others with beauty
Conviction and joy
Never hesitating to speak
Rules of my game is to
Echo back his words
The power of words
Flows pass my lips to him
Showing him differences
On a sacred land
A begining and an end
Larger than its own
As stories emerged
Time is lost but story
Remains a lifetime
Engage in writing
Creation cannot be primary
Fraught with questions
To write opens doors
To the unknown but safe
To express myself
Be riddled by doubts
Words have no power, truly
To know who you are
To find yourself in
Your writings is a rebirth
Words will never fail
Profane on the land
We gather with daily life
Let story pass on
I do not belong
But I am one, here to talk
Hear and continue
Write and wish - to be
Don't let it haunt you and die
Painstaking to write
Use and want your lip
Be free and share what's inside
Don't get overwhelmed
All, who love language
Radical evolution
Presence of power
Obsessed with the tongue
Change to come if rightly used
But supressed, repressed
Story circulates
Like a gift, an empty gift
Anybody claims
Your story is mine
And you have mine within you
Give, Take, Give, Give, Take
To find acceptence
Begging for permission
Can be difficult
Read so we can write?
Write so they enjoy the words?
Does it matter now?
He who lends an ear
Accomplice to the gossiper
Or sympathizer?
How do we know truth?
This word can not be defined
Questions still remain
Love, joy, peace, happyness
Mixed with sadness
Laughing, silly, and forgetful
Take time to smell the roses
Not busy, busy, till you die
Now wake up and smell the roses
Enjoy them while you still can
Run as fast as you can then slow down and breath a little
See what its like
Take a break No worries
No worries at all
Dont listen to them
they do not care about you
Tell them to eat cake
Then go back to smelling roses
They matter, They are beautiful
Live happy not worry.
Began long ago
its older than my body
as old as my, me
time passes by us
and sooner than you know it
your life flashes by
Must be flying free
and not seeing lines as lines
nor any prison yard
Just seeing free space
a road so long its untraced
free beyond the guards
Trying to please all
always at odds with myself
who is not self
Thought i saw clearly
just my imagination
i am not myself
One sick of sickness
Snatches of conversation
Immemorial
Lao I cannot know
Westernized beyond belief
The days we were king
For permission to
Learning "unfeminizes."
Beseeching begging
Counter to Sartre Wom-
an cant go far enough to
Write freely, captive
Anthropophagus
The Great Man stereotype
Gossip and Science
Men in crisis learn
Men in crisis as voyeurs
Among the natives
A quiet world today
In a remote village
Is born in this time
This story begins
Without an ending within
The people's lives right now
Writing is seeing
Perhaps your self in mirrors...
Is that really you?
To feel and to hurt
Is a blessing from the Gods
Which we must accept
Your language is my
Language but your truth won't be
My truth in this life
I want to see what
You see but not what you hear.
Help me understand.
The story circulates like a gift
An empty gift which anybody can lay to by filling it to taste,yet
My story began at birth
It ended at death
My beliefs will live forever
Women of departure's judging
Darkness of departure's judging
Obscurity of departure's judging men.
Criticism's Inevitable
Darkness will brighten
Justice will unravel.
A conversation of "us" with "us"
about "them" is silenced.
"Them" stands on a hill alone
Speak to be ignored
Protest to be fought
Inhumanity is mute
The cuts, the pauses
Mixing of utterances
The tones, the paces
It all surrounds me
All of the selectiveness
In the choice of words
What emerges here
The nature of literature
Questions that relate
The freedom of speech
Anywhere the words can go
Is that really true?
Civilized language
Their social institutions
Knowledge belongs to
The words in language
All the words in literature
Oh, how do we choose?
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