English Teachers

I love this mini-show on YouTube.

The Next Big Thing

As part of promotions for my forthcoming book, 'Refugee Prayer', my publisher has asked me a series of interview questions that will be posted on my blog, and my publisher's blog (http://anotherlostshark.com/) for the public to view. Here's the interview thread as tagged by Graham Nunn and Ashley Capes (http://ashleycapes.wordpress.com/) as 'The Next Big Thing'.

The Next Big Thing

What is the title of your book?

Refugee Prayer

What genre does your book fall under?

Poetry/ Haiku/ Shape Poem/ Free Verse/ Prose

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Poetry exploring my family’s experiences as refugees during the Vietnam War; as well as poetry glorifying the beauties of the natural world.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

My parents occasionally talk about their experiences as refugees during the Vietnam War. Exodus is a topic of conversation that is quite hush-hush in our family, as I understand that it was a very emotional time for them. But, the rare story pops-up, which I found interesting to try and explore through an artistic medium, hence the book. As for the ‘natural world’ part of the book, these poems seek to offer a sense of rejuvenation and hope to counter the turmoils of war. I really enjoy writing poetry (i.e. haiku) about nature. The first ever poem that inspired me to write poetry was “I wondered lonely as a cloud”, by William Wordsworth. I just loved the serenity and the beauty of nature that Wordsworth captured so expertly in that poem, and to this day, have been hooked on poetry at its most vibrant. I also was inspired by Basho’s ability to stir the reader’s imagination through haiku; I particularly drew inspiration from this one of his:

my house burnt down

now I can better see

the rising moon

How long did it take you to write the first draft of the manuscript?

Tricky question. I’ve been writing poetry for 3 years. In that 3-year period, I have managed to write several poems around my family history, and the beauty of nature.  They all seemed to fit into place at the end of the 3 years into my own book, ‘Refugee Prayer’, that I am so very proud of. So to answer the question, the manuscript has been 3 years in the making.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

My family has been a huge inspiration for this book. For me, writing this book is a way of saying “thank you” to my parents for everything they’ve done, for placing the family in a safe country, for all the sacrifices they’ve made to make me the happy person I am today. Also, I take inspiration from everyday things in my poetry, things like nature, friends, church, teaching, etc that I often place into the form of a haiku or a poem.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Brisbane New Voices will publish my book in April, 2013.

What other works would you compare this book to within your genre?

‘I wandered lonely as a cloud’ by William Wordsworth, ‘my house burnt down…’ by Basho, ‘The Happiest Refugee’ by Anh Do, ‘Found’ by Souvankham Thammavongsa, ‘Forage’ by Rita Wong.

What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

Anh Do.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Its got haiku, a raindrop shape poem, a free verse poem, and prose; so plenty of variety. Also, the book is made from a lot of love and hard, hard work! Piqued yet? 

Bio:

Vuong Pham was born in Brisbane to a hard working family of Vietnamese refugees. He is now a passionate schoolteacher of English and SOSE. His poetry has received awards in the Ipswich Poetry Feast Competition (2011, 2012); the Inspired by Tagore International Writing Competition (2012); and the Free XpresSion Haiku Competition (2012). Vuong identifies as a Christian and enjoys going to a Baptist Church, including Bible Studies groups throughout the week. Some of Vuongs’ hobbies include reading and writing poetry, playing soccer and practicing piano. Vuong is currently working on his second book, which will consist of haiku. He blogs at: http://versesoftheinnerself.blogspot.com.au.

The League Of Extraordinary Poets

Well, looking back to 2012, it has been a year of much growth and excitement. Plenty, plenty of positives to take out of the year, but for short-sake, we'll stick to one topic for this post, and that is the founding of 'The League Of Extraordinary Poets', as a legitimate poetry performing group. Myself and five friends met (Sasha, Rachael, Cameron, Loc, Arafa) at the Brisbane poetry jam group, 'Poetry Jam' and have been close friends ever since. We have given ourselves the title of 'The League Of Extraordinary Poets' and identify as a poetry performing entity. We have performed in gigs in Brisbane and throughout Australia (and also would be open to overseas gigs...) Let's have a look at each of us.

Rachael is "The Fey"

Bite

Our words weave between us like spider's webs,
Beautiful traps,
Delicate,
Hostile.

Strong, silk like sinews
Threading a dangerous lace

And I am caught
In the web of your promises,
Hanging helplessly

Whilst you spin ceaselessly
Around me
Preparing to suck out

Every last breath,
Every last protest.

But you needn't imprison me,
I have been yours from the first
Smile I saw pass your lips,

From even before your lies of love.

Perhaps it is only neurotoxins
That make me quiver and shake,
But you course through my blood

Like moonstruck tides
And I am yours, willingly or not.

Loc is "The Spoken Sword"

In The End

(Loc says: "I wrote this from a prompt given to me by my old writing group: If you had one day left on earth, how would you spend it and who would you see?")

When the last sunset withers into the ocean
Before this world falls apart,
I will already be on a plane towards you.

My mind will play out every little detail
From the moment I see you again.
I will hold your hand,
And see the reflection of this beautiful apocalypse
In the blues of your eyes.

When we kiss,
Our lips will fit so perfectly,
It'll be as though
They were broken from the same stone
And whole cities will burn
Like we set fire from our tongues.

We'll walk down the highways
And see the cars have all crumpled into twisted metal roses
In this garden of armageddon.
We'll watch streetlamps burst like fireworks
Illuminating our skin
Like a shower of starlight

And in the last moments
Before the earth collapses into itself
And blackholes its way out of existence,
The only gravity we'll know
Is the one between our bodies
Pulling us towards each other,
Again and again.

We'll make love like that last sunset
And I will fall into your skyline
Warm and slow,
Until all that's left
Is our afterglow in the darkness.

But when I'm on that plane,
In the back of my mind,
I'll know
That I'm still 7000 miles away
And I won't be able to make it by the end of the day
So all I want in the last seconds of our lives
Is to be able to look into your eyes,
One last time,
And say,

I'm sorry for leaving.
I'm sorry for every moment I couldn't be there for you
And every night you spent
As a lonely spectre in an empty bed
Pulling the ghosts from your own dreams.
I want you to know
That I never stopped missing you.

But if we don't even get that,
And the afterlife isn't kind enough
To let me break my way into your heaven,

I want you to know
That if they ever find me
In the wreckage of this airplane,
All they'll see is a boy heading home,
Body scrawled out on the landscape,
Trying to write you a love letter with his bones.

Cameron is "The Maximalist"

IPSWICH
Pearl of cities! Depending of course on the value of the pearl in question, whether the value of the pearl is greater than or equal to the value of Brisbane!
IPSWICH
Oldest city in Queensland! Old that is from a human perspective but taken in the grand scheme of the universe and everything in it is barely greater than a speck of dust in the desert!
IPSWICH
King of railway! That is assuming that railways have kings! Dynasties! Royal families! Courtly protocol! The Feudal System! That is assuming that freight trains are the proletariet and passenger trains are the bourgeoisie! Perhaps the trains are all actually Republicans!
IPSWICH
Home of an excellent art gallery that is both artistic and excellent and possibly a number of other adjectives also though one must not be too specific when it comes to art!
IPSWICH
Home of a thriving cafe culture! Though that’s not to say that cafes have their own languages, customs and migration patterns!
IPSWICH
Home to many great bush poets and also a few bad ones!
IPSWICH
Home of the free, and home of the brave, and also home to those who are both, and also home to those who are neither, and also home to those who believe that freedom and bravery are subjective variables, and also home to whoever it was who stole my car tires twice!
IPSWICH
Where the pubs are heritage listed, to ensure that future generations can get drunk and say they are contributing on a cultural level!
IPSWICH
Home of a shopping mall that everyone pretends to hate even though they really don’t ’cause it’s trendy to complain about urban sprawl!
IPSWICH

I like Ipswich.

Arafa is "The Sneaky Poet"

Take me to...

I don't know, it doesn't matter -
I don't care.
I tasted your name on the air and found it
Bittersweet,
Feeling poetry that wasn't even there.

Every time I hear the wind,
I think it's you again,
And every time I smell the breeze,
I taste the beauty too,
But it was hard to find a pulse.
You cannot sing a tune when the music isn't there.

And you are not part of the air.

Vuong is "The Haiku Master"

especially in Brisbane

the fast cars call my name

Vuong!       Vuong!

stone angel

naked in the garden--

only a bird whistles

light rain 

all the windows open  

for Ode to Joy

tired of bamboo gazing
I look to the pond--
bamboo reflection

school graffiti

on the auditorium walls

incorrect spelling

red traffic light--
my Jedi trick 
makes it go green

between the goalposts

an orb spider's web

catches the full moon


Sasha is "The Dandy"

Lunar Caustic

She is silver-nitrate and coal.
An Egon Schiele painting
stretched on dream
and sullen sparking glances
tipped in gold.

It is starlight, burnt through a velvet field
that chains me here.
It is honey and hot wine
that haunts my sleep,
by the onomatopoeia
of obsession.

With a lunar caustic kiss
she hexed me.
Woven in her six-sided circle
those rubies in the
hollow of her neck
and fingers that shimmer
like ice.

The Sphinx of Eros.

That heathen curl.
Smoke to hide the ivory!
Spoke to lock the memory!
Caught in click clack shutters
by the silver foaming pond.
Froth from the chambers of
ebony rough hewn hearts.

O starlight!
That raptures me hungry
for bloodsoaked lips
red as fury!

And I sang;
O lord & commoner, I sang!
To the weepings of a sombre, sudden,
stinging violin,
in empty vinyl crackle
from music soaked in paint,
with a voice
like burning velvet

There you have it, each of the members of the League. Pretty evident each of their own individual and unique super-powers? As one, they are strong, but together, they are EXTRAORDINARY. You can check out more of their wacky adventures at their site: http://leagueofextraordinarypoets.wordpress.com/

If you have a gig you'd like us to perform at, please contact us by commenting on this blog post, or alternatively via email at: leagueofextraordinarypoets@gmail.com

Here's to another exciting year for 2013! Hats out to Rachael and Vuong for being cripples, that way for earning a legitimate parking spot in Handicap zones for gigs and shenanigans! Much love.