Category: City of Writers Radio

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Fields of Elisium The battlefield in my head is littered with the lovers I’ll never bed, let alone wed See me ride the light of love To a place inside his heart Falling below the mists,…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Page 337 In response to Lâm Thị Mỹ Dạ’s Bomb Crater Sky. Dad served two tours in the war, a media circus of Ohio hippies and escapes from Saigon via helicopter Lit by the fireworks on…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Masque You buy clothes you never wear To impress people who don’t care You can’t speak in front of crowds You should get your head checked You have blisters on your heels From shoes that refuse…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Sentimental x Unsentimental The stars in the skies Dripped into your eyes Like the beautiful ones Hold you when you’re done. I’m in this for love Not procreation Fallen angels, righteous sins Raptured in misdirection. Baby…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Where Do I Belong? All my life I straight tripped on who I was Was I Filipino, was I American? For twenty-eight years, I could not assume either role, I was never pigeonholed, but I never…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Kiss of Def Forever the sickest This is how I see myself A little bit cynical, always a miracle I learned early on, Depend on no one but yourself Call it a front, call it a…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Pomegranate Juice Sweet and sour, puckered tongues, and stained fingertips I had a great line here, but I deleted it in revision I tend to ramble and I drop in images from the things I’ve learned…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Flip the Script It had to look real. Bruise had to be shaped just so. Lampshade swayed like Newton’s law. Equal but opposite. It was the only heavy object within reach. Timed carefully. The neighbors would…