Ocean Vuong
& remember,loneliness is still time spentwith the world. — Ocean Vuong, from “Someday I’ll Love Ocean Vuong,” Night Sky with Exit Wounds (Copper Canyon Press, 2016)
Category: Asian-American Culture
Ocean Vuong
Suppose you do change your life.& the body is more than a portion of night—sealedwith bruises. — Ocean Vuong, from “Torso of Air,” B O D Y: Poetry. August 6, 2013
Ocean Vuong
To keep& be kept. The way a field turns its secrets into peonies. The way light keeps its shadow by swallowing it. — Ocean Vuong, from “Into the Breach.” Boston Review: Poet Sampler, September 08, 2014
Ocean Vuong
and I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slowThe most beautiful part of your bodyis where it’s headed. — Ocean Vuong, from “Someday I’ll Love Ocean Vuong,” The New Yorker; Poems. May 4, 2015 Issue.
Ocean Vuong
O minutehand, teach me how to hold [her] the way thirst holds water. Let every river envy our mouths. Let every kiss hit the body like a season. Where apples thunder the earth with red hooves. — Ocean Vuong, from “A Little Closer to the Edge,” Poetry ( April 2016)
Ocean Vuong
You, drowning between my arms — stay. — Ocean Vuong, from “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” Poetry Magazine. (December 2014)
Ocean Vuong
Say surrender. Say alabaster. Switchblade. Honeysuckle. Goldenrod. Say autumn. Say autumn despite the green in your eyes. Beauty despite daylight. Say you’d kill for it. Unbreakable dawn mounting in your throat. My thrashing beneath you like a sparrow stunned with falling. — Ocean Vuong, from “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” Poetry… Continue reading Ocean Vuong
Ocean Vuong
Some nights you are the lighthouse / some nights the sea / what this means is that I don’t know / desire other than the need / to be shattered & rebuilt — Ocean Vuong, from “My Father Writes From Prison,” Night Sky with Exit Wounds. (Copper Canyon Press; First Edition edition, April 5, 2016)
Ocean Vuong
[…] remember, loneliness is still time spent with the world. — Ocean Vuong, from “Someday I’ll Love Ocean Vuong,” The New Yorker: Poems. May 4, 2015 Issue.
Ocean Vuong
Is that what art is? To be touched thinking what we feel is ours, when, in the end, it was someone else, in longing, who finds us? — Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (Penguin, 2019)
The Vale of Soul-Making 