Tag Archives: personal

100 Poems | 100 Days: Day 11

Escaping her homeland, she focused on the future.
One hand holding herself, another holding her son’s.
Leaving. Leaving everything behind.
Her mom, her dad, her sisters, her home.
There is no turning back now.
She just cannot risk it.

She made it to Hong Kong.
and landed in jail.
Separated by single women and men, and women with children.
Separated from her sister.
Alone with her son, she waited.

*will revisit when I feel more inspired..

100 Days | 100 Poems: Day 9

WOohoo, almost done catching up.

My mouth salivates when I think of little chocolate truffles lining up at my doorsteps
Freezers filled with ice cream delights. Creamy deliciousness as the taste of vanilla bean tickles my tongue.
I cannot forget cakes.
Fruits, chocolate, red velvet, pound cake, cake cake cake cake
Angel cake, yellow cake, funfetti cake,
cup cakes, cream cheese on cup cakes, icings on cup cakes. cup cakies.
have you ever tried dipping oatmeal raisin cookies with cream cheese icing?
well you should try.
or get a giant cinnabon and drop a vanilla cone on that bitch.
just saved your life right there
but when you want to relax
try some hot chocolate
with whip cream
and chunks of chocolate
and sprinkles
and chocolate syrup
and a scoop of mint chocolate chip

lulz so random cause I want want sweets right now. i feel silly. imagine me screaming all this though HAHA

100 Days | 100 Poems: Day 8

I just can’t handle heartaches
just thinking about it makes my heart jump
and not the good kind either
the feeling that puts you in pain
all you want to do is lay in bed
and let time pass by
by then you just hope that this heartache goes away
but it doesn’t
the more you think about it
you get lightheaded
the more you feel your chest
it gets heated
your heart wants to break open your bones and dive out of your tissues and skin just so you can see your heart in melancholy
and when your heartaches don’t go away
you get heart broken
the kind your mama warned you about
but its not about the boys
its about the things you love and care for

100 Poems | 100 Days: Day 7

Certain poems I rather not revisit but here’s another one.

you left this scar on my body
like a surgeon operating, cutting deep into my skins and tissues
did you not feel that?
that vessel you just popped, carving into my heart that never stopped spilling ink on my pen that never stopped writing about you
but that didn’t stop you
did you not hear that?
the screams coming out from my brain
turn the volume to max, consume the streets with the sounds of unpleasantness and taint the concrete with eerie
but that didn’t stop you
did you not see that?
the open wound from my chest, exposed like an animal at the zoo. still on its habitat and visible to be familiarized
vulnerable and living for the world to watch and scrutinize
but that didn’t stop you
that didn’t stop you from creating this pain
that lingers like the stench of aroma that follows me every where. never leaving because every time it “left” the distinct smell hits and all the feelings com back
like the pain you instantly feel when you listen to that one song that reminds you to something broken
broken like my rib cages, you break pieces off when I think of you
this psychological battle im trying to fight
its not who you are, its what i remember you as
and all i can remember is this feeling
i’m just tired of fighting this feeling
the pain you engraved into me with that knife you cut me with
that healed into this scar.

100 Poems | 100 Days: Day 3

Day 3 y’all. I’m trying to be consistent. Note* I like to write spoken word poetry so it’s meant to be read out loud. I am thinking I might record my poems or perform it .. kinda .. to have videos instead of just words. We’ll see.

My name is Nguyen, Dao Cong Han
Family name Nguyen, Given name Han
Legal or Government name Trish
Growing up I loved school but I hated the first day of class
Stepping through the doors of Kindergarten, I highly anticipated a great day
Looking over my shoulders, my peers were crying as their parents left them
Roll call, as the teacher would say
Was my most hated moment
Nervously I pulled my braided pony tail to the front as I waited for my name to be called
Han? Hand? Cong? Hon Kong?
I hear little laughs

It’s Han

This happened every single year throughout elementary school.
What’s worse? Substitute teachers.
It seems like they don’t give a fuck. So they would pronounce it anyway they want.

In middle school, my mom passed her citizenship test.
I was given the opportunity to change my name. So call me Trish.
But little did I know, more Vietnamese students were integrated into our schools
The teachers had to learn our names and I had less trouble with Han

High school
I want to apologize to those I called FOBs.
For people  who don’t know, they stand for “Fresh off the Boats”
Immigrants to the U.S.
They spoke Vietnamese in their circles with little courtesy to “American Culture”
You live in America not in Vietnam so stop being so annoying, were the thoughts going through my head

But now as I look back
What gives me the right to judge people of my color
Why did I hate the fact that, they spoke their native tongue, as I ignored mine
Somewhat, I felt superior because I knew the language of this so called “America”
I was brainwashed thinking the American way was the right way but in reality it was really the white way.
Colonialism at its finest
Society shaped this little girl to think that her name was not good enough
That she should be ashamed of her people, her culture and should embrace hot dogs and hamburgers
Because fish sauce was too strong and the only accepted Vietnamese food is Pho
You never want to be “too Asian” because racial slurs like Chink matters
And if you do anything else wrong you’ll end up in Alexandra Wallace’s video
Derogatory terms and bigotry against this skin that I cannot peel off
By the age of 5, I figured out my shade of yellow before I learned the English colors of my crayon box

Well baby, if you want me, say my name like it’s worth knowing
My name is Nguyen, Dao Cong Han
Family name Nguyen, Given name Han

2014 “Resolutions” / Goals

Or whatever the fuck you want to call it. I was talking to a friend the other day and he actually asked what’s my 2014 goals. I never gave it a thought. With everything going on around me .. it never crossed my mind.

I gave it a thought.. and because of everything that happened, I strive for happiness. Happiness is my lifetime goal. Not just short-term of course, long-term happiness. So I am thinking. With a goal like that how will I execute it? How do I strive for happiness. It’s not easy but it is definitely not difficult either..

Happiness is not given, it needs to be worked on daily.

I’ll work on this.

To be continue. haha so corny.

I heard death comes in 3s ..

Paul Walker, Nelson Mandela, and my grandpa Nguyen, Nhu Tung. December 7th left a great man. I don’t think people realize how close we were. Again with that word, were.. You were part of my childhood, part of my past, part of my present, and you were supposed to be part of my future. He wasn’t some sort of distant relative where I only visited once or twice a year. I still drive my grandma around when I am back in OC. Yes, I am that grand child. I would do anything for them. They raised me. He was my father figure. No, I don’t give a fuck if he is 94 and he’s old. That doesn’t change the fact that someone important to me left. it has been 3 weeks grandpa and I feel as if you’re slipping away from my memories and dreams. As if you’re no longer real because you’re not physically here. The holidays has been so hard since you’ve left. Nothing feels the same. I miss you so much. I know I haven’t talked about you for awhile or mentioned you but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about you. I feel like you’re one of the reasons I love to be creative and artistic. You are my inspiration. This post is all over the place because that’s how I really feel. I need to find a way to be organized and put together again…

R.I.P. 23:24

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I couldn’t sleep last night. At most 2-3 hrs. I can’t believe you’re gone. I have never felt so much pain. This feeling is so permanent. You being gone is so permanent. Even with all the songs in my itunes, I still can’t find the one that describes how I feel. I am having such a hard time letting you go grandpa. I was just at the hospital with you on Friday and you were still trying to talk to me. I can still hear you saying my name through the oxygen mask. They didn’t say anything about your condition being bad… except trying to keep your blood pressure up.

I just saw you. I just FUCKING SAW YOU.

When I went back to LA I was so worried, sad, crying to myself. I felt guilty leaving for “priorities.” But then I thought I was being stupid because they didn’t say anything about your condition getting worse. And now you’re gone.

I can’t believe I am not spending Christmas with you like we do every single year…

I can’t believe I won’t be able to have conversations with you anymore. There will be no more greeting you and sitting next to your bed just to hear you talk. I loved our conversations together about life and career choices.

I can’t believe you won’t be celebrating your first grandchild’s college graduation. I even planned to take you both and make sure that we come early so we can get the handicapped seats. I wanted you to be front row for everything.

I can’t believe I won’t be able to see you paint. I can still remember you sitting outside with your easel and oil paints when I was younger. I was never allowed to touch the oil paints though lol. I am sorry for sneaking outside using your oil paints when you were not there. What I would do to have more time with you and apologize for that. Since you have been aging, I was so amazed when I saw you paint couple months ago. Something simple, yet unique, with water colors.

I can’t believe I won’t be able to hold your hand.
I can’t believe I won’t be able to hear your voice. your stories. I remember you telling me about how you traveled to places to showcase your art. And I remember that I wanted to be just like you when I grow up. An artist that travels the world.

You were such a big influence in my life. I can’t believe I’m saying “were.” I fucking hate using past tense.

I can still remember you in your suits. You haven’t been wearing them for awhile but you were always so handsome in them. And your watches. You loved wearing watches.

I remember we used to sit and watch wrestling together. Whether it be wwf at that time or even wwe as we got older. Or even wrestling on telemundo or something like that.

I remember when you used to cook for me. It was probably because grandma went out and you had to babysit us. Sometimes I hated it because sometimes there would be eggshells in my bowl. How I would take a moment back to eat anything that you cooked. Even the egg shells.

I remember how you used to give me $1 every time you hear the ice cream man. I love how you know that ice cream is my favorite.
I remember all the pictures that we took together in front of our old house. I never really liked taking pictures when I was younger. But what I would do to take another still picture with you grandpa. What I would give and sacrifice just to have you here with me a little longer.

Christmas 2012

Last Christmas. I was trying to be sneaky but you looked up. I am glad you did.

I remember last Christmas Sabrina brought out all the picture albums you had in your room. A lot of the pictures were of us when we were younger. We forgot to bring them back to you so you came outside in the living room discretely and grabbed the albums. We thought that was so cute.

Your death was so unexpected. You didn’t have cancer. You didn’t suffer through some sort of sickness. I guess it was just your time.
I love you so much. I miss you so much.
You will always be in my heart grandpa.
I love you

06.15.1919 – 12.08.13 23:24
Age 94.
Left a husband, a father, a grandfather, a great grandfather.
Left an artist and a kind-hearted soul.
I love you
We love you