A short video on youtube of the Three Generations of Hmong Writing on Freedom and Democracy Reading Session at the Split This Rock 2016 National Poetry Festival, held on Saturday, April 16, 2016. Here is the beginning of one of my new poems, The Bright Light for Courage in the Darkest Night, about working on my grandfather Touby Lyfoung's book of letters. Both the book of Letters and my new poetry manuscript should be available in the near future. Thank you to Split This Rock for selecting my proposal for this session and giving this space and time to share my latest work and my family's writing through three generations. My first reading in 8 years: I can tell I am rusty, both in my public reading and my ease to read aloud in English, my second language-my accent is thicker! I will need to brush up on my public reading skills. :)Split This Rock reading, April 2016

Split This Rock 2016 National Poetry Festival, Grand Finale Featured Reading, 4/16/16

I was killing two birds with one stone that night, multitasking, volunteering as an usher, which put me right at the venue where this would happen and I could hear the new acclaimed Asian American poet. Ironically, and I can laugh about it but it was unfortunate, in my eagerness to do a good job as an usher, among all the other early birds, I rushed over the woman who walked through the door and looked like she could use some help, I gave her the usual spill, “Welcome, this will be a great reading, please take a seat towards the front, so others can fill in the back!” She looked at me funny, took the program, barely mumbled some thanks, and walked on. One of her eager fans behind her rushed to me and whispered half-indignantly and half still star-truck, “she’s one of the featured poets!” Oh my face was red. Well, it had to happen again 15 minutes later, as many came through the door and once again, I did not know the faces of the other readers, as I really was only there for the Asian American featured reader. This time, the guy next to the featured reader said, “He’s a featured poet,” so I could tell him in person, “Sorry, I do this all the time!” He just waved back distractedly. Anyhoo…I also greeted poets I took workshops from and poets who came to my reading. The auditorium was standing room. It was nice, a gathering of poets and poetry lovers. My commentaries would be:

§  Interesting set of featured poets showing a range of content: Reginal Dwayne Betts-poems about the self explicitly referencing the external, Ocean Vuong-poems about the self/the self’s relationships to others showcasing universal themes, Nikky Finney-poems about others advocating social justice. The latter would involve a lot of research, to really capture the person and context and facts. The latter poet was the most mature and her poetry was more academic, but also was broader than the guys who are still growing up.

§  Ocean Vuong. Well, that was my current perception, as he went read through poems with latent and explicit content, including a piece about his parents’ time of love and sex and I guess what could have been an attempt at collective orgasm with an Ode to Masturbation. The language was pretty in some places and intense in some places, but I just wasn’t feeling it. No offense. J Anyhoo…Li Young-Lee, he’s still my #1 Man-Poet. However, my take-away from my fellow Asian American poet is his interesting reading style, soft, breathy and intimate. I will have a poem set to that tone. This said, Ocean Vuong is the current rockstar of this young generation of American poets and poetry lovers, the Justin Bieber of American Poetry. I got his last manuscript (got it signed too!) and will have more in-depth things to say about that later, probably.

§  After listening to all those award-winning stars of American Poetry, interestingly, I did not feel crushed by the weight of their brilliance and the impossible task of measuring up to their achievements. I just felt, yeah, I have stuff I want to write and I think there will be people who will be glad to see it. But my public reading skills definitely need lots more work, so, so, so rusty: my accent is thicker and I stumble a lot upon the spoken words. I’ll be practicing. J

Walking Manifesto #4- I Will not Be in Someone else’ Book/Happy Emancipation Day!, Pacyinz Lyfoung, 2016, first draft (Dedicated to Bruce Beneke,  Mary Nguyen, Cyndi Cook, Penny Snipper, Jay Wilkinson, Friendly Vang Johnson, Sharon Ramirez, Kazim Ali, Nancy Wong)

AWUM, APAWLI, NAPAWF, HWAT

Asia Women United of Minnesota, Asian Pacific American Women’s Leadership Network, National Asian Pacific American Women’s Forum, Hmong Women’s Action Team

In the end, it all spells out to

WOMAN

It wasn’t for the glory, the money, the step to my next job, the headline to the next article about me, my place in the book of she-roes,

I loved books, I loved them ever since I could read, I loved them first, begging my poor parents for the only thing I truly wanted, books

At the fork of real life, at heart, I was still a baby with my first love, words: I could follow either of my two languages, my first to effortlessly write brilliant articles gathering the dust of scholarly praise on university shelves, or my second to face the terror of what did not flow so easily in my mind and tongue but it could shield the meek and right the wrongs

My first job, I came from a refugee community, keeping a roof over people’s head, keeping a home into people’s hearts, kissing the hope in homeless people’s eyes- it was a true calling

My Asian sister found me there and said, come and help build this dream house for the women and children who have no place to go; for nine hundred and two and a half days, it was breathtakingly pure and beautiful; then the black sheep stumbled on our front steps, she had been wounded in so many ways, in the end, she slaughtered her own lambs; I’ll not lie, it broke me, not when I was the only one who did not flinch from telling the truth of our collective responsibility, but when I saw the heart of my sisterhood holding up higher the dream of that house than the soul of one of our own

My younger sister said, how dare you, turn your back from our sisterhood, but I was done with meetings- we did not speak for four years

Yesterday, I knew he was my brother when he said, I was an activist, but I could not breathe anymore, I am a yogi-poet now

Yesterday, my older sister was so proud we could stand together for the platinum anniversary of another house, but I don’t think I would have been there, a house is nice, but in the end, I did not walk for houses, I walked for WOMAN

I love books, I will not be in someone else’s book, I will be my own words in my own book

Went to hear the 21st US Poet Laureate Juan Felipe Herrera read at the Library of Congress

This post may not be as polished as I wished it to be, written the day after the event and in the midst of the frenzy of the Split This Rock 2016 National Poetry Festival, in the middle of a working week.

However, here just some preliminary summary comments:

• US Poet Laureate. What's so special about them? The US Poet Laureate is the official Poet Consultant to the Library for a term, usually 1 year, but if more work needs to be done the term can be renewed for another year. Juan Felipe Herrera's term was renewed, as announced last night. Each US Poet Laureate has a specific project/mandate for his/her term. 
• Juan Felipe Herrera's project goes by the theme/title of Flor y Canto, Flower and Song, and documents the Flower and Song Chicano/Chicana Movement starting in the 60s, when many explored their diverse identities and claimed their rights. It was fascinating to learn that some poets went all the way back to the Aztec language and even older cave drawings to find more insights into their identity.
• As Juan Felipe Herrera introduced to the larger public several members of his cohort and ended with the comment, "dead now," I could not help but recall the words of the older Asian American poet, David Mura, well-respected by my own generation of emerging Southeast Asian poets in MN. He candidly shared with us that he was neither the most brilliant nor the most passionate of his generation, but he was the one who kept on going and kept on writing, in the end, the last one standing.
• Is Fresno the US Capitol of Poetry, as claimed by Juan Felipe Herrera, proud Fresno resident? That should be the subject of a new post. :)
• After the event, as I stepped out of the Library of Congress into the magnificent sight of the US Capital blazing in the spring night under the stars, I savored the opening and closing poetic lines of Francisco X. Alerçon, now deceased, selected by the US Poet Laureate: "Each star, a firefly dreaming the Cosmos." Each poet, shedding light on the mysteries of our lives