Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
His biography: Ngo Binh Anh Khoa (born 1994) has a Master degree in English Language and is currently teaching at a university in Ho Chi Minh City. He has published more than 200 poems in multiple literary magazines and international contests in countries such as the US, the UK, Japan, India, and elsewhere. In 2021, his Sijo (a traditional Korean poetic form) won first prize in the Sejong International Sijo Competition. His Haiku have also received awards and honorable mentions in international contests.
His poems:
Untitled*
On the tree, the cicada does not move as the minutes pass;
It is but an empty husk that’s left behind, unchanging, stiff.
I say so to my grandfather, who looks as though he’s just asleep.
(By this poem, the author won in 2021 Sejong International Sijo Competition. https://www.sejongculturalsociety.org/isijo/past/2021/sijo.php.
The interview the winner: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJoDpO0Yxe8)
Cultivation
I cultivate my hours in solitude
To fertilize the soil within my mind
Wherein ideas are planted, nurtured, grown
Till, from them, words are formed, weighty and ripe,
Which I, from every hectare of that field,
Would pluck, and into which my pen would stab,
Extracting all of their most potent essences,
Unleashing all of their most striking flavors–
The bitter and the sweet, the salty and the sour–
So I could spill them all upon an empty page
And watch as they take shape–and bloom.
(VerbalArt, vol. 7, issue 1. New Delhi: Authorspress.)
The Way I Say my Prayers
The way I say my prayers these days
Is not like how a rooster’s crows
Would soar and rend the quietude of dawn,
Forcing the words so proudly expounded
Into any ears within my vicinity
To take heed.
No more.
The way I say my prayers these days
Is more like how a butterfly’s wings
Would flutter on a springtime breeze,
Serene and soft as they gently guide me
Toward the little wonders blossoming in
The world that ever expands
Far, far beyond myself.
(VerbalArt, vol. 7, issue 1. New Delhi: Authorspress.)
Vampires
The world’s already filled with vampire-folk–
No, not the ones in stories, films, and myths –
That spend the daylight trapped in coffin-walls,
In cubicles, in locked-up rooms, in tiny space,
Afraid to leave the comfort of the cold
Yet comforting veil of darkness sheltering them,
Afraid to leave the space they’ve carved out for
Themselves – their lonesome and secluded keeps
That stay still, stagnant as time marches on.
They’re living as though dead, inside and out,
Just soulless beings void of hope and dreams
Denying themselves a chance to grow,
Denying themselves a chance to change,
Subsisting with scavenged vitality
Day in day out, uncaring of time’s flow
Till they eventually return to dust.
Pitiful are those that are living to die
While others out there are dying to live.
(Phenomenal Literature, vol. 7, issue 2. New Delhi: Authorspress.)
The Gorgon
Come look at me! Oh, look at me!
Why do you turn your gaze away
From what I’ve turned into–
From what you’ve made me turn into?
Come look at me! Oh, look at me!
Behold the image by your foul hands wrought–
A vision once so pure and innocent now
Perverted and condemned to fathomless disgrace.
Come look at me! Oh, look at me!
Drink in the sight of what I’m damned to be,
My tangled hair a lair of hissing, twisting snakes
And reddened eyes the endless pools of bloody tears.
Come look at me! Now, look at me!
Why won’t you man up? Look me in the eyes!
Or are you so afraid that you’ll be petrified
By the reflection of the beast you know therein you’ll find?
Come look at me! Now, look at me!
I am your sin personified,
And I am vengeance given flesh–
A broken angel that’s assumed a demon’s shape!
So look at me! Now, look at me!
And burn my face into your wretched memory
Before you’re locked away at last for good,
In callous stone eternally confined,
Of sunlight’s warmth forevermore deprived,
And all hope of salvation evermore denied.
(Eternal Haunted Summer. Summer Solstice 2023. https://eternalhauntedsummer.com/issues/summer-solstice-2023/the-gorgon/)