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JoJo Nguyen Jan 2018
There is a Soldier I know

Her short cadence
with military precision
is always careful

At every bridge she
breaks step
to avoid foolish
oscillations a peeking midriff jog
pounding shoes
on asphalt pavement
hard could these send infatuated
hopes to destructive swing

Who knows what chasm
fantasized are crossed
Who knows what war
wages and what broken
battle of bulges lost
Why burn another Leader
ego living in some
Downfall Bunker

There is a Soldier I know

Her short cadence
in boots bare run faster
than legged strut

Every night she comes
through a backroom window
protected by a silver
Spoon at best
and every morning she
survives as golden tongue
poetry written on
our wired cages

There is a Soldier I know

Her name is Eden
and her hands are hot
with Dante's inferno

Her adolescent face is cool
and on each ear
a ring of Blue Herons

Every day her short cadence
brings rouge life
to our clay complexion
and every night
her milky whey
lips wonder lost
in our King Lear
kabuki song
JoJo Nguyen Dec 2017
.symbol

A child traces animal ghosts on a cave
wall Left
pictures we had before
our memories and youth
were in them

.family

We dig down Trees in primordial
dirt Left
hidden as roots-- a Dad our Moms
found still loving us diverging
green offshoots

The furrowed brow on an infant's
face Left
impressions within a big sister's
emerging intelligence the natural
heir

to an ancient
matriarchy Left
here full of media streams
saturated with siblings
nieces and cousins

.network

Will social constructs
connections Left
on neural networks firing
locally across our communal souls
be remembered?
JoJo Nguyen Nov 2017
Enjoy the Saturday
in our Frigid
air

Conditioning response
as our Kevin
touches

Bill and Harvey's name
on our wall
white

washed

clean
20171111
JoJo Nguyen Nov 2017
The golden egg
congeals
on a car after our
mischievous
midnight's vandalism

It leaves a trail of pubescent
nonsense
yellow stains marking our
English
classroom past

We find childhood artwork
pinned  
as a patchwork of our
Hester
scarlet badges

Down the historical spinal
cord
mini trophies become our
reactionary
silver astrocytes

who make scar and transgression
fasciculate
into fuchsia bundles in our
new
Hope homes

A Technicolor Dreamscab
preventing
the regenerative return of our
plastic
polymer Messiah
JoJo Nguyen Oct 2017
Should I? Must I?
A tender gave, gotten and allowed to leave,
looking left, sawing to the remains
caught?
Should I? Must I?
Take this catch, crooked took listening,
learning, a dramatic shock taught?

>translate.google.//english.arabic.english.persian.english.
هل علي أن؟ هل يجب علي؟
أعطى مناقصة، حصلت وسمح للخروج،
ينظر إلى اليسار، ونشر إلى بقايا
القبض؟
هل علي أن؟ هل يجب علي؟
خذ هذا الصيد، أخذت ملتوية الاستماع،
تعلم، صدمة درامية تدرس؟

Should I? Do I have to?
He gave a tender, got out and let out,
Seen to the left, spread to the remains
Capture?
Should I? Do I have to?
Take this catch, I took a twisted listening,
Learn, dramatic shock taught?

باید من؟ آیا من باید؟
او مناقصه داد، بیرون آمد و بیرون رفت
دیده شده به سمت چپ، گسترش به بقایای
گرفتن؟
باید من؟ آیا من باید؟
نگاهی به این دست انداختن، گوش دادن پیچ خورده را گرفتم
یاد بگیرید، شوک چشمگیر تدریس می شود؟

Should I? Should i have
He tendered out, went out and went out
Seen to the left, spread to the remains
Catch?
Should I? Should i have
Look at that, twisted listening
Learn, shockingly taught?
This, a short missive from broken hearts is translated through Google, in a fun game that even Jimmy Fallon does now, and shows even we can learn.

If you'd like to translate this poem to your favorite language, feel free to do so, and let me know so I can read the new version!

Enjoy!
JoJo Nguyen Oct 2017
We treat others like dirt

A lot of dirt makes a Mountain
and when the Mountain moves
the Earth shakes

A Mountain does not quake
at being treated like dirt

Dried **** burns
A mountain of fertilizer
explodes with a spark

We treat others like dirt
We treat others like manure
We mix ourselves together

And plant our seeds
on this excrement Pile
hoping our next
generation Children
will come
On a new cloud layer

Zephyrs lacing leaves
Brooks babbling over roots
Precocious progenitors
come to rejuvenate
humanity's Mountain
JoJo Nguyen Oct 2017
I have my breakfast
I have fool's art

I have my bass
that never learns
a slapping face
wears fine lines
between syncopated opiates
and rhythmic beats

In our Populous cities
success crescendos
to demands for a stadium
full of gladiators dying
in entertaining tragedy

We have time
We have loose change

We have youth
that imp which finds

Romans still sneak
under progressive lust
beneath beer fences
and Coliseum bleachers
with girlie giggles
and stiff speared Heroes
into history
What's going on, what's going on
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