Mimi Tempestt

something to lose or everything to lose

—inspired by Truong Tran

it's an overbearing sensation

what this isolation offers me

i’ve concocted this desperation as intellect

chose a path that winds up the mountain

& destroys itself behind me with every step forward

i’ve sought counsel from the giants

men who sharpen their knives in their mind’s caves

they sung in war-torn parables

colossal-like rhetoric of battles won & battles lost

they mirrored my missteps in their own trek through the same vertical

they chuckled at my eagerness to learn

they told me time was the only ally on my side

they placed their cosmologies in my back pocket

they hid their battle scars in plain sight

they fused with the journey & became one with its lore

at the tip of my tongue there is a dagger dressed in venom

i remember not to swallow my own words

the most glorious blessings & deadliest curses were born in me in my third month of silence my

feet begged me to go back

my heart understood yearning for safety is a myth

i listen for the crows’ busy banter & take solace in the conversations between owls i’ve become a

nightingale to my most sacred emotions

the trees greet me most respectfully & cheer me along

faith is an inhale away from the desire of my calling

i’m a sigh across an ocean of doubt

can you hear it? the humming is one & many with you

how you hone this gift will honor the ground you’ve already made

the path of faith & love reaps greater reward than the method of brute force head east at the fork

until you encounter the black dove

there you will meet and greet the sibyl you’ve been traversing to become

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Statement of Homage

For about a year and a half, I sat in Truong’s kitchen while he prepared a meal for us and asked, “What is poetry?” I was hungry: eager to learn, willing to try anything, and trusted that he would lead me down the correct path. He never gave me a clear answer; he only responded with more questions to consider, having faith that I would choose the most authentic path to my journey. He was writing his magnum opus, and I was still finding my footing. My DNA. As I digested his wisdom, I grew into my own. He led me to Wanda. He led me through Spirals. He led me to my tribe in San Francisco when others turned their backs on me. He humbled me. He made me bigger than life. He supported me. When history reflects on who had the deepest impact on my development as a poet, Truong Tran will be the name to say. Other names will be referenced. A cosplay of colossal rhetoric and Black ties for cultural relevancy, but Truong is (and will always be) the truth.

Truong Tran

Truong Tran is a Vietnamese American artist, writer and educator. He is the author of 6 previous collections of poetry, The Book of Perceptions, Placing the Accents, Dust and Conscience, Within The Margins, Four Letter Words, 100 Words (Co-authored with Damon Potter). And most recently, Book Of The Other. His works have been translated in Frenh, Dutch and Spanish. He is the recipient of The Poetry Center Prize, The Fund For Poetry  Grant, The California Arts Council Grant and numerous San Francisco Arts Commission Grants. He lives and works in the San Francisco Bay Area where teaches, makes art, and continues to write. Of his latest efforts, Book of The Other was recently selected as CLMP’s Firecracker Prize in Poetry and the Before Columbus Foundation’s American Book Award. His visual arts have been featured at SOMArts Gallery, The Telegraph Hill Gallery California Institute of Integral Studies, and The Peninsula Museum of Art.

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