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mysoftmachine · 5 months

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To start all over again is to imagine the world is, as it is.

#tsering wangmo dhompa #poetry #words #p

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llovelymoonn · 5 months

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favourite poems of december

a.r. ammons collected poems: 1951-1971: "dunes"

jennifer robertson shrill shirts will always balloon

n. scott momaday in the presence of the sun: stories and poems, 1961-1991: "the delight song of tsoai-talee"

ted berrigan the collected poems of ted berrigan: "bean spasms"

natalie diaz when my brother was an aztec: "abecedarian requiring further examination of anglikan seraphym subjugation of a wild indian rezervation"

greg miller watch: "river"

joanna klink excerpts from a secret prophecy: "terrebonne bay"

dorothy dudley pine river bay

brenda shaughnessy our andromeda: "our andromeda"

frank lima incidents of travel in poetry: "orfeo"

lehua m. taitano one kind of hunger

no'u revilla kino

linda hogan when the body

paul verlaine one hundred and one poems by paul verlaine: a biligual edition: "moonlight" (tr. norman r. shapiro)

mahmoud darwish the butterfly's burden: "the cypress broke" (tr. fady joudah)

mahmoud darwish the butterfly's burden: "your night is of lilac"

amir rabiyah prayers for my 17th chromosome: "our dangerous sweetness"

sara nicholson the living method: "the end of television"

charles shields proposal for a exhibition

ginger murchison a scrap of linen, a bone: "river"

tsering wangmo dhompa virtual

anne carson the beauty of the husband: "v. here is my propaganda one one one one oneing on your forehead like droplets of luminous sin"

muriel rukeyser the collected poems of muriel rukeyser: "the book of the dead"

anne stevenson stone milk: "the enigma"

david tomas martinez love song

robert fitzgerald charles river nocturne

thomas mcgrath the movie at the end of the world: collected poems: "many in the darkness"

linda rodriguez heart's migration: "the amazon river dolphin"

donald revell the glens of cithaeron

sumita chakraborty dear, beloved

angela jackson and all these roads be luminous: "miz rosa rides the bus"

kofi

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natalieff · 3 years

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“Home defined by those who have lost home”.

Portrait of poet Tsering Wangmo Dhompa for Tricycle: The Buddhist Review

#tsering wangmo dhompa #tibet #illustration #editorial #portrait #tricycle magazine #buddhist #drawing #home #natalie foss

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jacobwren · 3 years

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Time unravels what happens within time.

Tsering Wangmo Dhompa, A Home In Tibet

#tsering wangmo dhompa

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generouswindow · 2 years

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In the Event of Change

by TSERING WANGMO DHOMPA

I am saying primroses lined the pathway of toothless hedges. I am saying the ocean shimmered like corrugated steel in the morning sun. The context of my story changes when you enter. Then I am dung on the wall of the nomad’s field. Then the everyday waking person. I am nodding in your direction like fissures between dandelion fur. Seeing in your manner. I am speaking your pace. Slippage of silk slippers. I say you are losing sight. I say your breasts are dry shells. I am afraid of what I am capable of doing. This is all a manner of stating how I prepare myself to be loved.

#of living #of love #tsering wangmo dhompa #the context of my story changes when you enter

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soracities · 7 years

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Memory springs like crocuses in bloom. Self conscious and precise.

Tsering Wangmo Dhompa, from ‘Bardo’

#lit #quotes #poetry #tsering wangmo dhompa #memory #bardo #m #x

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quotishowl-blog · 7 years

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Source: Rules of the House (Apogee Press, 2003)

#tsering wangmo dhompa #poems #poem #poetry #love poems #love poetry #in the event of change

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weltenwellen · 2 years

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Tsering Wangmo Dhompa, From “Substitute Heart”

#poetry

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thismademethinkofyou · 3 years

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// Tsering Wangmo Dhompa// Juliet Kono//

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trawmer · 4 years

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Through the curtains, her voice loosens like thread from an old blanket, row upon row.

Tsering Wangmo Dhompa, from “She Is”.

#poetry #lit #literature #words #writings

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jshoulson · 4 years

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Today’s Poem

Virtual --Tsering Wangmo Dhompa

One of us is a faucet reconciling to the temperature of indifference. This is the world: the drawer assembled by you pinches a finger before yielding. There are so many foreigners here, I said, when I first stepped onto a beach in Virginia. I had an idea of the ocean, and of who I was. I am in water now, attempting to see the ocean. We lick our wounds with the same tongue.

Long accustomed to carrying a gauze for shield, the heart wraps bruises like dumplings. I see the sun through my neighbour's window, whelked in lace. Is this what we mean when we use the word "virtual"? Tulips grow even after they're cut. The ones I loved, having died without returning, crowd the heart's waiting room. To start all over again is to imagine the world is, as it is. I give up; I thought this was a poem about nation, the one she began at nineteen. The one she waits to return to: her eyes never adjusting to the colors of exile. This antechamber; this long incision called hope.

Last night I crossed to the other side, unwelcome territory. I might have been sad. My broke heart.

I'd been observing then, the sun's influence, subjugated by streetlights imitating moonlight. Even the sun softens, (I had thought to myself) to bring every image in view as a memory of some other place, some other text. Last night, I slept in a borrowed bed for guests I anticipated, as host to self's solitary marriage. I examined the world, thus altered. Later, standing at the precipice, I awoke. Even sleep did not take me back. And the signal—being green—I walked.

#Today's Poem #Tsering Wangmo Dhompa

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quanticat · 7 years

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The Year of Parting –– from Tsering Wangmo Dhompa’s Recurring Gestures

sorry for awful pictures.

#poetry #tsering wangmo dhompa

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ruknowhere · 3 years

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She Is

BY TSERING WANGMO DHOMPA

Her voice is a roundness. On full moon days, she talks about

renouncing meat but the butcher has his routine. And blood.

M’s wisdom. Still reliable.

There are sounds we cannot hear but understand in motion.

Slicing of air with hips. Crushing grass, saying these are my feet.

I want my feet in my shadow. Suffice to meet desires halfway.

Quiet. We say her chakras are in place.

When the thermos shatters, she knows the direction of its spill.

She knows how to lead and follow. Know her from this.

Sounds we cannot hear. The wind blows and we say it is cool.

Night slips under the door. We are tucked into bed and kissed

a fleeting one. Through the curtains, her voice loosens like thread

from an old blanket, row upon row. We watch her teeth in the

dark and read her words. She speaks in perfect order, facing where

the breeze can tug it towards canals stretching for sound.

Her faith abides by the cycle of the moon. See how perfect she is.

Source: Rules of the House (Apogee Press, 2003)

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technobug · 4 years

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Exiled and distanced from its home, Tibetan writing has long reflected the spirit of the pandemic

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In Tibet, the few people old enough to remember the arrival of the Chinese in the 1950s use the word dhulok for the period – when time collapsed. I stumble upon the word deep in Tsering Wangmo Dhompa’s quietly moving memoir, A Home in Tibet, an account of her life in exile and her journeys to Tibet. Dhulok. The word stays with me, a cipher for the year of the pandemic when time collapsed…

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donoleari · 4 years

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Proibidas na China, suas obras literárias foram editadas em Taiwan e em Hong Kong. O Tibete, berço do Dalai Lama, hoje ocupado pelos chineses, é pátria de intelectuais que, acima de sua rígi…

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smallpressdistribution · 7 years

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Feast your eyes and your shelves on September’s

SPD Recommends *Backlist*,

ten titles that continue to rock our world. Maybe they’ll rock yours too…

1. You Are Not Dead - Wendy Xu

“There's a wild and wondrous poet plundering-through our lives, collecting the oddest and most significant things, turning our thoughts toward things we couldn't have known before she turned us toward them. YOU ARE NOT DEAD is precisely how this book can get you to feel and that is an almost otherworldly power. The poet who imagines and builds these poems is irresistible.” - Dara Wier

2. Stars of the Night Commute - Ana Božičević

“STARS OF THE NIGHT COMMUTE haunts in three dimensions, knit by a below-words rumble in the sure rhythm of dreams.” - Annie Finch

3. Rules of the House - Tsering Wangmo Dhompa

“Dhompa's potent suite of poems elucidates the humanness and adversities of the Tibetan diaspora. You enter the immigrant girl-child's bifurcated world, coming and going, language to language, culture to culture, from childhood to sexuality. A lovely explication of 'dharma—things as they are, and how precious they are, no special pleading.” - Anne Waldman

4. King of Shadows - Aaron Shurin

“Aaron Shurin gets it so right in this collection of essays. He slows down the heedless world and takes a good look. Sometimes he jumps on the moment with predatory glee, other times he fashions wreaths of words with it. I watch and admire these flights that are way over-the-top and yet scrupulous. At some point his watchful explorations become autobiography and the whole scrupulous, over-the-top, magnificent man steps forward.” - Robert Glück

5. Enthusiasm: Odes & Otium - Jean Day

“Occasionally a book pulls me in to the exclusion of all others, demanding that I read it straight through. The sensation almost feels like a drug. I find myself looking forward to my next possible moment with the book and experience intense pangs of sadness once I’ve completed it, as though a friend has passed...Jean Day’s ENTHUSIASM: ODES & OTIUM is just such a volume. Reading it is one of those knock-down take-the-top-of-your-head-off experiences...” - Ron Silliman

6. (Soma)tic Midge - CA Conrad

“My idea for a (Soma)tic Poetics is a poetry which investigates that seemingly infinite space between body and spirit by using nearly any possible THING around or of the body to channel the body out and/or in toward spirit with deliberate and sustained concentration. My first investigation into (Soma)tic poetry is a series I am calling (SOMA)TIC MIDGE. This is a 7-poem cycle where I fully immerse myself in a single color for a day. The order of the 7-poem cycle being the natural order of color, starting with RED, then ORANGE, YELLOW, GREEN, BLUE, PURPLE, then ending with WHITE. PURPLE being the transformative, natural pivotal color which is born ONLY WHEN the starting color RED (which is the first element of the Zodiac, Aries, or ORIGINAL FIRE) and the last color BLUE (which is the last element of the Zodiac, Pisces, or ADVANCED WATER) bleed together.” - CA Conrad

7. Thank You for the Window Office - Maged Zaher

“Maged Zaher: my favorite discovery, so far, of 2013. His poems are totally alive, funny, sharp, shapely, and never dull. A great pleasure to read this effervescent, awake book.” - Wayne Koestenbaum

8. Black Peculiar - Khadijah Queen

“In the 19th century, those unwilling to face the incongruities of a nation espousing freedom while simultaneously perpetuating terror used the phrase our peculiar institution as code for slavery. Here, with equal part precision and aplomb, humility and humor, erudition and absurdity, the work in Khadijah Queen's BLACK PECULIAR decodes, uncovers, and recasts such lexical wound dressing, exposing the abraded, scarred flesh of a consciousness both beset upon and liberated through language. Unabashedly experimental, Queen continually bends form to the breaking point, reveling in the absence of authority revealed through hybrid genre: epistolary interrogations of a prismatic self; prose poems blurring narrative and parable; a wild verse play, whose lineage encompasses everything from Ubu Roi to Dutchman to The Vagina Monologues. 'I unlocked my chorus of archetypal women from their chains,' Queen tells us. 'They rubbed their raw wrists with aloe and set to work.' Would that we could all be subjects under one whose rule is so emancipatory.” - Noah Eli Gordon

9. not so, sea - Mg Roberts

“NOT SO, SEA is a matrilineal book of jungle and seasons of wet and dry, a bloodline haunted by the legacies of imperialism and militarization. From the intersection of vivid sensory memories and the dislocations of immigration these startling poems come full of contradiction: longing, violence, sweetness, and anger. I want to praise their clipped syntax, their insistent fragment and stutter, the hesitance that happens at the edges of translation between languages, cultures. I want to praise that their vocation is neither witness nor song but rather sheer will, a steely dedication 'to the arrangement of things in historical context,' even if such an arrangement 'makes it harder to fly in some cases.' I want to praise Mg Roberts' insistence on a poetics that both maps diaspora and attempts to regather what's been scattered: 'Pages turn creating distance. I must retell myself, until I can see us in color.' This is a brave and vital book." - Brian Teare

10. All the Garbage of the World, Unite! - Kim Hyesoon

“Kim Hyesoon writes flowingly and choreographically a panorama of hovering hatelove for the birthing body, for cruelty and existence and for the expansive thinking and dizzyingly borderless universe-geography. Kim Hyesoon writes hatelove as a stone-hard feminist life-and-death dance. As garbage, love and death accumulate in her poems, your world will be changed for real!” - Aase Berg

#Cleveland State University Poetry Center #Tarpaulin Sky Press #Apogee Press #City Lights Publishers #Zephyr Press #Faux Press #Ugly Duckling Presse #Noemi Press #Durga Press #Action Books #must read #small press #poetry #nonfiction #drama

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