(Photo: Zi Nguyen)

Some days ago, I had an assignment of three poems to submit in the Creative Writing Class. The first one is “standard”, the second has to be “fixed form” (haiku, sonnet, etc.) and the third one is freestyle. Sincerely, even my Vietnamese poems are quite clumsy, not need to think about those in English.

It was okay with the first one, but the second poem got me a hard time. I chose haiku, but, you know, haiku is a goddamn sophisticated genre. It requires a true talent and sensitive soul to sense and catch subtle things in a very delicate way, then imply and condense a supermega deep meaning in only 17 sounds (not word, a word might include more than one sound). Well, I’m not saying my haiku has a deep meaning, but I tried my best. God bless me.

The third one is really freestyle. I just wrote down whatsoever popping up in my mind.

1.

If you have ever wondered

Where are the clouds flying to?

Just become a dreamer

The answer hides in your mind

If you have ever wondered

From where the Sun’s rising

Let’s take a deep breath

Somewhere where the mermaids sing

2.

Flower’s petal falls

Soft as the flowing time stream

We’re not sure if so

3.

Last night in my dream

I turned into a star beam

No, not the star

Only the beam of it

“Was it sad?” I thought when I woke up

I still don’t know.

Later, I had to review poems of other classmates. Truth be told, it was a pain in my ass. How can I write a review about someone’s FEELING? It should not even be something like “Good poem” or “Bad poem.” The only appropriate reviews are “I feel it” and “I can’t feel it.” That’s it.

Review. Meh. Let’s see Oscar Wilde’s opinion about criticism, …

“It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.”