Hoa Nguyen
Hoa Nguyen (nacida en 1967 en Vĩnh Long) es una poeta estadounidense.
Nacida cerca de Saigón , Hoa Nguyen creció en el área de Washington DC y estudió poesía en el New College of California en San Francisco. Ahora vive en Toronto, Ontario.
Con su esposo Dale Smith, Nguyen editó diez números de la revista Skanky Possum, y bajo esta impronta publicó libros y capítulos de Kristin Prevallet, Tom Clark, Frank O'Hara y otros. Juntos organizan una serie de lecturas presentando actuaciones de Pierre Joris, Linh Dinh, Susan Briante, Joshua Marie Wilkinson, Kate Greenstreet, Laynie Browne, Anselm Berrigan y otros. Desde 1998, ha dirigido un popular taller de escritura virtual y centrado en obras de poetas como Alice Notley, Eileen Myles, Joanne Kyger, Philip Whalen, Charles Olson, Emily Dickinson y Gertrude Stein. Actualmente enseña poética en la Universidad Ryerson de Toronto, el programa de MFA de baja residencia en Miami y la Escuela Milton Avery de Bellas Artes en Bard College.
Colecciones de poesía:
Violet Energy Ingots ( Wave Books , 2016) (shortlisted for the 2017 Griffin Poetry Prize )
As Long As Trees Last ( Wave Books , 2012)
Hecate Lochia (Hot Whiskey Press, 2009)
Your Ancient See Through (Subpress, 2002)
Chapbooks y folletos:
Tells of the Crackling ( Ugly Duckling Presse , 2015)
Late in the Month ( Country Valley Press , 2011)
Chinaberry ( Fact-Simile , 2010)
Kiss a Bomb Tattoo ( Effing Press , 2009)
What Have You ( Longhouse Poetry , 2008)
Poems ( Dos Press Chaps , 2007)
Six Poems ( Tolling Elves , 2005)
Red Juice ( Effing Press , 2005)
Add Some Blue (Backwoods Broadsides Chaplet Series, 2004)
Let's Eat Red for Fun (Booglet, 2000)
Parrot Drum ( Leroy Press , 2000)
Dark (Mike and Dale's Press, 1998)
Poema con los primeros versos de los poemas de Tagore
Déjame nunca perder esta forma
Déjame nunca perder
Vida de mi vida alguna vez lo intentaré
Luz mi luz la luz que ilumina el mundo
Luz dónde está la luz
Más vida mi amor más y más
Madre debo hacer una cadena de perlas
Mis deseos son tantos y mi tristeza llora
No más ruido bulliciosas palabras de mí
La traducción corre a cargo de Adalberto García López.
Poem of First Lines from Tagore Poems
Let me never lose hold of this shape
Let me never lose
Life of my life I shall ever try
Light my light the world-filling light
Light oh where is the light
More life my love yet more
Mother I shall weave a chaine of pearls
My desires are many and my pitiful cry
No more noisy loud words from me
I Don’t Care
I don’t care anymore
one emblem of a whole pattern
I’m going to the café
Want the bag rinky-dink it
Rain me mother
Brain me
Consciousness means something else
a side of sliced ham
I gave the carved medallion
Horse relief and tender
My grey grey grey
bangles and leapings
Black snake in the mud
Screaming
Screaming mostly
I like to dance dark woods
stony hills lonely & moody
god I can scream
floating piped tunes
mantle for protected onces
are] possibly “all”
etc.
You always “take me to yr hearts”
moon lit sweet after unearthly
whiskered tree-love trusted
with my small horns
mother-scorn
Such a mood flower sequined
feet padding about
No I do not want to see
pictures of your white progeny
Independence Day 2010
Can be cracked or am that you didn't
consider me or I thought so
recovering in a nap You took the 4th
of July beers
In the movie
she was Asian and playing an Asian
part singing white on white in the white
room
I want to strum
or mask this day
Ask a question
of the large “picture” window
like why and why and also why
to think of the napalmed girl
in the picture
Unused Baby
Unused baby blood and this is
how you motion with hands
clotty leaving
You have your apparatus
being the Frog Husband and I burn
your frog skin to keep you
in the shape I prefer
Chimes You wrote in your apple
box Elegant neck
I tried to glue the ripped
paper back to the religious
art but it doesn't work
Making a mess of it
Wasp friend landed on my
shoulder sparkle to say This place
we are in is a place
Broil the asparagus
Frog heart
apparatus
Wash towels and rags
on Wednesdays
Swell
Swell you can dream more the earth
swells seeds pop
I glance at the prize
eyes closed in the glancing
It’s not a time to run
I wear soft shoes
and it took a long time
to walk here
Insects nudge me in my dreams
like the 5 honey bees plus
the strange one
Intelligent bee glances buzzing
to say Let me out The fake
lights confuse us
confuses the source
Worker bee buzzed my neck
directly me not turning off
lamps fast enough
Please
just open the door
to the sun
Autumn Poem 2012
Call capable
a lemony
light & fragile
Time like a ball and elastic
so I can stop burning the pots
wondering yes electric stove
She is her but I don’t reme
mber remember
the ashes I obsess She said
I was obsessed with
(not wanting to work with
ashes)
Mandible dream
says the street
& ash work
because the scorn
and ions long
there I wor I woke up
in the overlooked dark
I work
do that warp twistingly
wrap the dead
Black and white like the
long-dead starved pet rodent
eating the basement
curtains and peanut shells
I walk I wal
I walks down sometimes
why the advi
abide the advice was
not “Fair better”
but “Fail better”
Auto dish soap
½ and ½
Coffee beans
Bake the golden things
Rust colors
Rust colors
Haunted Sonnet
Haunt lonely and find when you lose your shadow
secretive house centipede on the old window
You pronounce Erinys as “Air-n-ease”
Alecto: the angry Magaera: the grudging
Tisiphone: the avenger (voice of revenge)
“Women guardians of the natural order”
Think of the morning dream with ghosts
Why draw the widow’s card and wear the gorgeous
Queen of Swords crown Your job is
to rescue the not-dead woman before she enters
the incinerating garbage shoot wrangle silver
raccoon power Forever a fought doll
She said, “What do you know about Vietnam?”
Violet energy ingots Tenuous knowing moment
Hoa Nguyen
Hoa Nguyen was born January 26, 1967, in the Mekong Delta near Saigon, Vietnam. When she was eighteen months old, she moved to the United States and was raised in the Washington, D.C., area. Nguyen earned her MFA at the New College of California in San Francisco, where she studied with Tom Clark and Lyn Hejinian, and remained active in the Bay Area poetry scene for years before moving in 1997 to Austin, Texas, where she lived for fourteen years. While in Austin, Nguyen cofounded—along with her husband, poet Dale Smith—Skanky Possum, a small press poetry journal and book imprint through which they published the work of poets such as Amiri Baraka, Linh Dinh, Eileen Myles, and Alice Notley.
Nguyen is the author of four poetry collections: Red Juice: Poems 1998–2008 (Wave Books, 2014), As Long as Trees Last (Wave Books, 2012), Hecate Lochia (Hot Whiskey Press, 2009), and Your Ancient See Through (Subpress, 2002).
“Hoa Nguyen’s poems might appear fragmented at first—like pieces of broken china … but the pieces of image and story that make up her poems prove to be more particle than fragment, each integral and necessary. The space between these particles is as meaningful as the space between stars. The poems move according to an order that reveals its presence slowly, offering humor and beauty as rewards along the way,” writes Iris Cushing in BOMB.
Nguyen has performed, lectured, and fulfilled residencies at a number of colleges and universities, including Brown University, Buffalo State, Naropa University, the Toronto New School of Writing, and the University of Texas at Austin. She currently teaches poetics at Ryerson University and lives in Toronto.
Selected Bibliography
Red Juice: Poems 1998–2008 (Wave Books, 2014)
As Long as Trees Last (Wave Books, 2012)
Hecate Lochia (Hot Whiskey Press, 2009)
Your Ancient See Through (Subpress, 2002)
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