One Peace | Dear Everyone,
It’s been awhile since I’ve forced myself to really memorize lines but earlier tonight I did my best to gather my thoughts and throw my insecurities out the window to film this piece.
I will be honest and say that I think I could have done better for the fact that I should have been more prepared ahead of time rather than force the memorization on the spot. Overall it’s a good learning experience for me and I will be better the next time I decide to shoot another video.
This video was filmed solely for the purpose of my online submission for Kollaboration SF 3! And while I can see why the panel might skip me, at least I have a video to show my friends and family.
Here’s a video for my most recent piece, hope you all enjoy it!
One Peace | What’s (Y)our Story?
What’s (Y)our Story?
Growing up as a kid
The only thing I really cared about
Was not miss my Saturday morning cartoons
Going outside to play with my friends
And come night time
Keep this mind awake long enough to
Watch along with my siblings
Tales from the Crypt
So when I entered my early teens
I assumed that the world was the same
In that we as human beings shared the mindset
Where ethnicities was only to identify
And verify that while we are all a bit different
We share similar ideals
Ethics, morals and all loved Honey Nut Cheerios
That was until
I entered into high school
Where according to my society
Stereotypes and prejudice
Was apparently a big thing
And I was assigned
A new preconceived “Asian” identity
It was cute at first, really
I would even say a bit…flattering
People often assumed I was related
Bruce, Jackie and Jet Li
I could bluff my way
Into knowing Kung-Fu
To the 10th degree
And if I yelled loud enough
My hair might turn blonde and spiky
Like the Goku on Dragonball Z
But after awhile
People got comfortable
And in the war on race
“All y’all Asians look the same!”
Hearing this on a daily basis
Had made me realize
What my society believed
About people similar to me
Giving me the impression they felt
That we have no suffering
That we can easily succeed without struggling
That we don’t have a story
And that we don’t have an identity
They were wrong
And this wasn’t just my
Non-Asian audience
This lack of knowledge
Lived within my own Asian friends
Where the only time for “pride”
Was if we yelled before it “A-Z-N!”
I couldn’t kick it with that idea
I wanted to come correct
Express to represent
Let my fellow peers understand
That my parents had a struggle
They too made heartwrenching decisions
And still fight for their children lives
Because my heritage is here
I’m not just another “Asian”
I’m Vietnamese-American
I write poetry
And stand up to the mic
To bring people together
As words and stories
Bind us as a community
Because like a real race
There are tons of different ethnicities
Each with their own
Individual stories
Stories I want to fall in love with
Because knowledge is power
And as Uncle Ben once said
“With great power comes great responsibility”
A responsibility that we
As a community melting pot
Must encourage the appreciation
Of our similarities
But at the very same time
Respect the differences
For when it comes down to it
Wherever you come from
There are issues in our country
That affect us all across the board
War, health, political, disease, disaster, and so on
Isn’t discriminatory towards what you look like
We have achieved success
Within our own community and organizations
If we pulled together our knowledge
Gather our resources
We can answer the questions at hand
Solve the problems now
So that our future
Can have a story to tell
For generations to come
So now tell me
What’s going to be
(Y)our story?
I have been given the honor to perform at the 4th Annual Asian & Pacific Islander Heritage Month Celebration on Wednesday, May 9th from 5:30-8:30pm at the Garden Grove Community Center. Hosted by the Orange County Asian & Pacific Islander Community Alliance (OCAPICA) and the California State Senator Lou Correa, this event is FREE and open to the public!
Come enjoy cultural performances by local artists and community organizations as well as a variety of ethnic food samplings! The program will also include legislative and community updates and a special recognition of individuals and organizations that have serviced the Orange County Asian and Pacific Islander community.
I got a new poem baking in the oven especially for this event! Hope to see you guys all there!
Love Part One: Rare Rose Gold
Let me just say that I’m no art major nor do I have the knowledge of real art enthusiasts. I’m sorry to offend!
________________________________________
I’ll be straight forward
There is a girl I’ve come to admire
Her looks, wit, and words
Have me purely inspired
I’ll be honest and say
That she has me falling
And for the sake of this poem
Her name will be LemoN
As life suddenly decided
To throw her into my direction
“Make something of this” said Life
Disregarding the cliché of making lemonade
I listened to the words of Atmosphere
Who once said of lemons to
“Paint that shit gold.”
And I shit you not
I have sat in my room
With a paintbrush and canvas
Painting away the perfect
Piece of art that I could make
In hopes that one of these days
I’ll give it to LemoN
And she’ll be astounded
She’ll see how pretty she truly is
And how she could make the Milky Way stop
Dead in its orbital tracks
But I can’t perfect said art piece
For I’m as much as a painter
As Nikola Tesla was an Iron Chef
Not really
I refused to give up there
Because as a poet
I’ve been given the job
To paint pictures with words
That would incept your mind
Of the beauty that I see
So picture this
Single Asian female
Addicted to Target’s sales
She’s not too short
Nor too tall
She holds her own at dinner
Yet she stays slender bodied
And never going any skinnier
If I were to paint her with Choe’s finesse
She’d be in a blue dress
That would electrify the oil based city
Sending shocks of beauty
That makes me weak in the knees
Because she’s just absolutely stunning
If I were paint her with Audrey’s skill
She would be plain faced only
To show her beauty is also au natural
Clean, simple, and perfect all around
Because when you look at her
Sometimes all you can say is just
“Damn, you’re beautiful.”
And if I were to paint
With Da Vinci’s perfection
LemoN would be Mona Lisa
Her smile painted enigmatically
The beauty of not only her face
But her hands, neck and breast would
Light up the very canvas
In a way that announces her presence
And lastly her eyes
Her gaze upon me
An observer of “beauty”
Capturing her very sincere essence
I paint these eyes perfectly
No outlines or other artsy gimmick
Because if eyes are
Truly windows to the soul
Then you’d see why she inspires me
For her eyes are tinted a rare rose gold
Three Parts Love Prequel
To say love is overrated
Should be a phrase to be cremated
Heart broken in one place
Only to fuck some other face
Love isn’t what makes you jaded
It’s just you
Who thinks love must be hated
But don’t fret as love for you will soon be true
Love doesn’t embody one being
I mean it can and it will
But understand you must be willing
To look in others heart for yours they’ll fill
For there are three parts to love
The person you desire to hold
May be a tough find but it takes time
To refine “Rare Rose Gold”
The unforgettable faces
Who will never leave your side
At “Your Home Base”
And soar high above
For we each represent
A “Younique One Love”
If Anyone
There comes a time where in life, in the midst of all things fucked up, we all need to step back to re-evaluate ourselves.
Life throws lemons at us to make lemonade for god knows why, self-proclaimed critics throw tomatoes when we perform horridly to get off the stage, and our esteem breaks us down in places where we need the most support.
However take the time once a day to or a week to step away from the spotlight that is “everyday life” and breathe.
Simply breathe.
Sit down and lay your eyes upon the skies and say not a word. Leave your phone in your pocket. Capture the sky within your mind for yourself.
Be selfish for once.
And when you’re done, lay your presence on the world. Leave your worries and low self esteem in the back of your mind. Capture the success that has been told was out of reach. Because if it’s something you need to know is true, is that if anyone thinks they know you better than you; they’re mistaken.
“Trust your struggle”
The Mixtape
With my excitement for the upcoming mixtape of Toestah coming up entitled “Dangerzone” and production help from my brother himself, I did a quick write up inspired by the concept and ideaology. I used the sample tracklist given to me to incorporate it into this piece as a challenge to myself as a writer. I hope you guys all enjoy!
Keep an eye out for the new mixtape y’all from TOESTAH! #DANGERZONE
https://www.facebook.com/toestahmusic
______________________________________________________________
I’ve seen a lot with these chinky brown eyes
Encounters with the cops
And death more than I can suffice
I’ve heard plenty in these early years of life
As days came passing on by
The ignorance of
My decisions and actions
Have caused unstable emotional reactions
Affecting the many lives around me
You see nowadays I’m being
Judged on superficial things
But had I closed my eyes
Opened my ears
And maybe started listening
I might have been able to hear
The boy crying on the inside
Because his ego won’t stop drinking
Or the baby’s heartbeat getting slower
And slower because this mind
Has become a coke fiend
Leaving the comfort of home
Only to enter the dangerzone
Where my responsibilities
Has become corrupted by Zerg
Arch nemesis of Buzz Lightyear
Locking away the idea
To infinity and beyond
Of why my parents
Journeyed to America
To give me a life here
But ignorant I stayed
For I just wanted to celebrate
Especially when there’s a date with Molly
And after a few shots of Henny
Performing drunk and
Fucked up on these stages
Alludes me to the idea
That the world is mine
So I keep it up
To avoid the realities
Of a sober state of mind
Because this high
Has got me feeling too good
Yet in actuality the homies in the hood
Are describing me otherwise
How I’m painting myself differently
Using a palette consisting of only white
And how I’m stumbling way off beat
Sniffing instead of spitting these lines
Because with each line of coke that’s done
The natural chemicals have been subtracted
And multiple drug addiction has been added
Fallen like a soldier
Hands down
Face down
The ignorance of
My decisions and actions
Have caused the emotional reactions
Of the loved ones around me
Finally understanding that in today’s world
You can have whatever you want
And what I want is to get back home
Become the up and coming artist I aspire to be
As it’s almost morning
And this come down has got me thinking
Las Vegas isn’t proper city lights
It’s on the other side of Nevada’s state line
In the city of angels
Where it’s dirty, inspiring, unforgiving
But yet somehow always welcoming
Reminding me home is where the heart is
And that my closest friends and family
Have assured me that I’m not alone
For they have become my safezone
Three Parts Love Series

Turn up the love. “Three Parts Love” series now in motion. #OneLove #RoseGold #Homebase
Save the Day
People believe in love
Especially because of the desire to have it
To receive it in return
Even if it hurts
Regardless of the scars and burns
People, believe in love
As there are many who struggle to
Respond when it appears to you and
Knowing that will be beneficial so
Encase love in your heart
Responsibility comes from great power
So save the day for the
People you hold dear
Increase the span of your power and
Destroy the enemies that
Everyone can’t fight off alone
Risk it all for them
Mask yourself
Ask yourself
Never doubt yourself
HOMEBASE
The below excerpts are taken from Shihan’s “Fathers Day” poem.
”’Daddy do you still love me?’
I thought I’d die when she asked me that
My heart felt like
I ain’t got a metaphor for that
It just hurts.”
The poem Shihan writes to the audience about the question his daughter asks him hits home. Not in the sense that I have a child of my own but in the sense of how I feel with my friends and family.
“So I try and keep composure
And explain to her everything
That she needs to hear
To let her know that
Her daddy will always be here
And tears form under my eyelashes
Pregnant with guilt…”
Sometimes I feel as though my friends have asked questions of if I still loved them or if we’re still friends. Questions like those hurts my heart. Even just the feeling or the possibility of that question being brought up scares me.
I got a new poem for you guys coming up soon and it’s going to be one I will push to spread the love.
“And later I break down in areas of my house I keep my secrets in”
#HOMEBASE
I asked Time to stop last night; I’m running out of breath.
Aren’t I trying hard enough? Is this some sort of test?
I can’t keep up with your pace so tick slower, if you can
I am so exhausted that I can hardly stand;
Seven days a week of work that never really ends
Coinciding with education that I should really extend
Time, stop so that I may take a moment to reflect
On what I’ve got to do to level up to what you expect
Where did I get so lost that I ended up chasing you?
In what direction will you take me, should I follow through?
Your pace is consistent; never slowing down or speeding up.
Changes are inevitable and they don’t depend on Luck.
But maybe Luck is really Fate and Fate has taken me here
Following behind you, Time, to show me what’s most dear:
Friends, family, and loved ones are there to pull me through
To make memories and passing Time bearable… enjoyable too.
Because if I had not met them all, I would surely be
As lost in Time as a shipwreck lost under the sea.
I’m not sure where you’ll take me, Time, but this I know is true:
You’ll never take us backward or can stay at a standstill
But, at the very least, I’m glad that you’re parallel with Fate
Both leading me through obstacles that are good for my sake;
Both roads end up at the same destination of this life:
I have grown, not alone, because of both happiness and strife.
I have met my friends and loved ones, each one along this path
So surely there is no sense in dwelling now or in the past
What’s come has come and is gone may be gone
And that is just another part of this Life’s Song.
For Fate to take me to you all blesses me endlessly
So I’d take this road through and through inevitably.
No regrets, no matter how tired or hopeless I am…
Because regardless, I am still simply blessed.
I have friends who put me to shame when it comes to writing poetry. Holy hell this was brilliant.
Love it.
Nothing is finite, embrace the ongoing change my friends.
The Fortress
Dedicate to a great deal of inspiration to me, Tiffany Huynh.
_______________________________________________________
The story goes
The princess is atop a tower waiting to be saved
Surrounded by the scent of brimstone
And scorching blue electric flames
Guarded by a dragon
And that’s the irony
Because the dragon is protecting her
Warding off these fake ass so-called “warriors”
Who think they are going to save her
Because let’s be honest
He could end her
With just a burp of his flames
But he doesn’t
He won’t
As he too wishes for this princess
To be saved
To find love
To help her find a man worthy
For the flames
To be contained
She isn’t scared of the fire
She’s not afraid of the dragon
Who protects her
As she hid herself away
Behind these castle walls
Looking from above in her tower
Waiting for her Knight
Not in shining armor
As she knows a true warrior’s armor
Should never be shining
As it meant he never
Went through any fighting
For anything
Because damaged chest plates and gauntlets
Are filled with stories of battle and struggle
That contains the tale
Of his pilgrimage to reach her
So until then
Punk Hazard is where
She will stay
As she knows she’ll be saved
She’s just waiting for the day
She can leave the fortress
Behind someday
**To the lovers that could never say what their hearts wanted because time was their enemy**
I wanna speak words to you that Shakespeare, Sidney,
and Petrarch could never say to you.
‘Cause words they write could never come
to an ounce of the love I’ve ever felt for you.
They speak of admiration and seduction while I love
for dedication, for all that you’ve ever deserved.
I’ve known you for years that cannot be told
and my love, for you, is what’s reserved
Just waiting for when I could tell you
how much you inspire me.
Inspire me to be better for my life
and motivate me to be the greatest for you.
You’ve arrested my curiosity and interest.
You’ve made me committed, 25 to life, all because I’ve been blessed
to have found someone like you.
And I don’t mind waiting for that day
for when you realize that I am for you
as you are for me.
This love that everyone claims
is something I can only
and want only to find in you.
We all want love, but I want yours.
Your hand to hold when it grows cold.
Your lips when mine grows shakey.
Your love when days become nights.
Your body against mine when we become one.
All I’ve ever wanted, I found in you.
I know I could give you every wish
you’ve ever desired.
If I couldn’t, I’d do my best
to make you happy even as I grow tired.
‘Cause seeing your smile is worth it all
as long as it is you that I can call
my friend, my own, my love.
Relevant! Amazing stuff buddy, you continue to inspire ALL the time. #oink
The funny thing about poetry is the poetic license that is attached to each working masterpiece that is created by the poet. The poetic license is meant to protect the poet from having his readers attempt to connect fiction to reality. The inevitable quality that poetic license cannot void is the human tendency—to care about the person who has written such a powerful piece, the curiosity of those who desire truth, the need to understand and comfort the poet in spite of the lack of full disclosure given. The other ambiguous characteristic of poetry is the origin to which the poem came to exist: This point precisely is what makes me intrigued by the type of criticism that attempts to claim that there can be indeed a separation between poet and poem.
Despite whether or not he has experienced something directly to the very thing that he had written about, there must have been something to have triggered the desire to write something. I don’t believe in poets who write for writing. Poets write because they’re moved by something. The something had inspired a hand to write words that originally carried no true meaning to transcend them into words that can never be forgotten. Poets can’t deny some form of reality to their poems, but it is done. Why? Because maybe the world he lives in is one that would not understand or is not yet able to truly see the truth the lies behind the words that carry greater value than experienced before.
As I read “Faced Down,” my instincts are to connect it directly to the poet himself. But then, I have to stop myself. Why? Because I remember my long conversation with him about the beauty of poetry that even poets allow themselves to hide in—the illusion of the separation from piece to person. I stop. I read again. And I take the words in for what they are for me and not for what they might be/represent for the poet himself. I do so to give him the full luxury of exploring his growth in the beautiful world of creative writing.
TO my dearest friend, write on. I’ve loved your writing since day one and the journey you’ve been conquering step by step. I can’t wait to read that one classic masterpiece that you define yourself with.
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