Poems Inspired by Ocean Vuong
#OceanVuong
Poems inspired by the Vietnamese American poet, essayist and novelist Ocean Vuong. Here you'll find poetry using the style or themes found in the writing of Ocean Vuong. Along with poems about Vuong himself, including praise and criticism.
Coyote Ugly
Once the bombs fall and the bullets fly
It’s time to get out of there
There is no diplomacy
There is no law to abide by
There is no process to follow
The instincts to stay alive kick in
While some lost limbs under the train
Others go through desert at night
Trying to avoid the blistering sun
Dying of thirst
looking at plastic gallons of water
spilled on upon the earth
Their vision escaping
Their mission seeming hopeless
As border patrol is approaching…
“Let’s have another...
It’s time to get out of there
There is no diplomacy
There is no law to abide by
There is no process to follow
The instincts to stay alive kick in
While some lost limbs under the train
Others go through desert at night
Trying to avoid the blistering sun
Dying of thirst
looking at plastic gallons of water
spilled on upon the earth
Their vision escaping
Their mission seeming hopeless
As border patrol is approaching…
“Let’s have another...
#sadness
#corruption
#LifeStruggles #OceanVuong
#LifeStruggles #OceanVuong
127 reads
10 Comments
You Are
I don't know desire other than the need
to be shattered and rebuilt.'
- Ocean Vuong
Raw, a shredded self
ripped from the vine
lands in obscurity
torn from its fruition.
A sky
dims in its awareness.
Thrown, ejected
smearing into unreception
as loneliness seeps
into evey crevice of
your inner wall,
your sanctum,
it burns itself alive.
It writes itself down
in chalk on pavement
just before it rains,
its story untold.
It learns to speak ...
to be shattered and rebuilt.'
- Ocean Vuong
Raw, a shredded self
ripped from the vine
lands in obscurity
torn from its fruition.
A sky
dims in its awareness.
Thrown, ejected
smearing into unreception
as loneliness seeps
into evey crevice of
your inner wall,
your sanctum,
it burns itself alive.
It writes itself down
in chalk on pavement
just before it rains,
its story untold.
It learns to speak ...
#OceanVuong
101 reads
6 Comments
'...the basic elements of containment in practise abroad'
the obligation of silence.
all creativity is relevant.
the time it took
between my fingertips
and the dead tv force. if only
I
could
expel the old codes,
the gods and the spaces in between...
absorbed in
hawk training,
and the jesses, anklets and lures,
hung above the crest, on wave, ...
all creativity is relevant.
the time it took
between my fingertips
and the dead tv force. if only
I
could
expel the old codes,
the gods and the spaces in between...
absorbed in
hawk training,
and the jesses, anklets and lures,
hung above the crest, on wave, ...
#love
#wind
#metaphor #OceanVuong
#metaphor #OceanVuong
184 reads
16 Comments
[ Poet Tributes ] Sometimes a wild cod
will leap out of the water
when you least expect it
smacking your bitch face up
with its tail.
A cod that is an odd kind of god
wearing suspenders of belief
while smoking coral reefer
in Bikini Bottom with his pet snail,
Gary.
Who lives in a pineapple under
the sea? Fuck, I hope it's not me.
This poem is at home on the beach.
Nothing more than an Ocean front.
A shell game by a conch artist.
Bewaring, you should always be erring
on caution's...
when you least expect it
smacking your bitch face up
with its tail.
A cod that is an odd kind of god
wearing suspenders of belief
while smoking coral reefer
in Bikini Bottom with his pet snail,
Gary.
Who lives in a pineapple under
the sea? Fuck, I hope it's not me.
This poem is at home on the beach.
Nothing more than an Ocean front.
A shell game by a conch artist.
Bewaring, you should always be erring
on caution's...
#sea
#beach
#water
#fish
#OceanVuong
144 reads
17 Comments
Aubade With Burning City (No Exit)
How something that lives only to fall can be nothing but sweet'
- Ocean Vuong
Say exit, and I won't look down.
Say we will all fall together, laughing.
Say this is a dream that we will wake up from,
never intending this, never walking toward it.
Falling, falling
drifting like snow does in sideways patterns
with random destinations, unknown, unpredicted --
these are the remaining pieces of a way of life.
I was with you before all this ...
- Ocean Vuong
Say exit, and I won't look down.
Say we will all fall together, laughing.
Say this is a dream that we will wake up from,
never intending this, never walking toward it.
Falling, falling
drifting like snow does in sideways patterns
with random destinations, unknown, unpredicted --
these are the remaining pieces of a way of life.
I was with you before all this ...
#sky
#night
#Christmas
#OceanVuong
#NewYear
116 reads
7 Comments
Beautiful Memories (Ocean Vuong Tribute)
I see the lust and hunger in your eyes,
green like the meadows we spend our
summers trampling through as children.
Home… Who would have thought we
would come back to the place where we
began and started. Memories filter in like
all the times we sat on the front porch
waiting and watching. Or when we laid
down on the soft grass and we would
see the stars shatter and break like
bullets going straight for the heart.
Did you know how many times I saw
you cry and how I wished I could do
something about it? I never saw...
green like the meadows we spend our
summers trampling through as children.
Home… Who would have thought we
would come back to the place where we
began and started. Memories filter in like
all the times we sat on the front porch
waiting and watching. Or when we laid
down on the soft grass and we would
see the stars shatter and break like
bullets going straight for the heart.
Did you know how many times I saw
you cry and how I wished I could do
something about it? I never saw...
#love
#memories
#OceanVuong
106 reads
9 Comments
Words like Chopper Blades
( After Ocean Vuong, and my father )
. . .once [ the war ] enters you,
it never leaves—but merely echoes. . .*
The war is never over for a soldier.**
Vietnam, 1957
Your eyes, still echoing wide with boy
at 17, resonating violently inside
their soft-shelled socket, your
tripwire tongue severing a moan
buried in her cartilage'd throat, waiting
to explode as a Bouncing Betty
above the surface. Prostitution, makeshift
war-wife,...
. . .once [ the war ] enters you,
it never leaves—but merely echoes. . .*
The war is never over for a soldier.**
Vietnam, 1957
Your eyes, still echoing wide with boy
at 17, resonating violently inside
their soft-shelled socket, your
tripwire tongue severing a moan
buried in her cartilage'd throat, waiting
to explode as a Bouncing Betty
above the surface. Prostitution, makeshift
war-wife,...
#birth
#war
#OceanVuong
256 reads
40 Comments
SPARED
my disease was loneliness
bubbling up from
a chasm tucked under the ribs
a skeletal soul
repugnant
draped across the wire
as though waiting for redemption
still, the angels
did their best for me
circling my boat
keeping me anchored
praying the gods to blow their storms
to distant places
where harder faces bore their wrath,
fought the good fight
and took their losses
mike and phillip
luke and lisa
all broken by circumstance
ruined or dead...
bubbling up from
a chasm tucked under the ribs
a skeletal soul
repugnant
draped across the wire
as though waiting for redemption
still, the angels
did their best for me
circling my boat
keeping me anchored
praying the gods to blow their storms
to distant places
where harder faces bore their wrath,
fought the good fight
and took their losses
mike and phillip
luke and lisa
all broken by circumstance
ruined or dead...
#OceanVuong
116 reads
13 Comments
Three quarter moon
It's full to be achieved- brashness
some craters still concealed
in life we weave, sun shine upon our seed
as a parent seeks affection
all gleam without the dark
pit's and imperfection
the rind upon the pork
decadence, fatherhood, light the road
reflect on all that's loss
wishes; hold such scant regard
a child's first cry slit between the curtains
moonbeams refreshment, afterbirth covered- falling on chaos
cradled sweet perfection and argument rages to call a spade a...
some craters still concealed
in life we weave, sun shine upon our seed
as a parent seeks affection
all gleam without the dark
pit's and imperfection
the rind upon the pork
decadence, fatherhood, light the road
reflect on all that's loss
wishes; hold such scant regard
a child's first cry slit between the curtains
moonbeams refreshment, afterbirth covered- falling on chaos
cradled sweet perfection and argument rages to call a spade a...
#breakup
#SelfReflection
#OceanVuong
103 reads
5 Comments
[ Classic Corner ] Gay Say
Because I said so!
And I know
because is not
an answer
I honestly don't
have anyway,
but what else
is there to say
in its stead?
That maurading
Murder Hornet
effects done decapitated
thoraxed solar plexus
causes from my
prevailing cooler head?
Found out the hard
exoskeletoned way
I couldn't bee
anything more than
a hive of one
fun guy loving
guy on guy
gayness.
Not long meant
for this world of
Queen ass kissing
servitude, I was. ...
And I know
because is not
an answer
I honestly don't
have anyway,
but what else
is there to say
in its stead?
That maurading
Murder Hornet
effects done decapitated
thoraxed solar plexus
causes from my
prevailing cooler head?
Found out the hard
exoskeletoned way
I couldn't bee
anything more than
a hive of one
fun guy loving
guy on guy
gayness.
Not long meant
for this world of
Queen ass kissing
servitude, I was. ...
#gay
#LGBT
#bees #OceanVuong
#bees #OceanVuong
183 reads
10 Comments
It was White
A white ... A white ... I’m dreaming of a curtain of snow
falling from her shoulders.
Snow crackling against the window. Snow shredded
with gunfire. Red sky.
Ocean Vuong
Aubade with Burning City
There lay war. Tyranny’s serial
Killer... heat abroad
The moon was white
Degrees of yellow
White...
falling from her shoulders.
Snow crackling against the window. Snow shredded
with gunfire. Red sky.
Ocean Vuong
Aubade with Burning City
There lay war. Tyranny’s serial
Killer... heat abroad
The moon was white
Degrees of yellow
White...
#war
#OceanVuong
174 reads
14 Comments
Did You
Father.
Did you ever remember me
there
when I was small,
did the sky record
what you saw?
When I heard you speak
in low rumbles of thunder
before a storm,
did it ever occur to you
that I was painted on your clouds
before all this;
that I was
behind that door in
the eaves of your old house...
Did you ever remember me
there
when I was small,
did the sky record
what you saw?
When I heard you speak
in low rumbles of thunder
before a storm,
did it ever occur to you
that I was painted on your clouds
before all this;
that I was
behind that door in
the eaves of your old house...
#father
#childhood
#NaPoWriMo2020 #OceanVuong
#NaPoWriMo2020 #OceanVuong
190 reads
11 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems Inspired by Ocean Vuong