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Jonathan Chin Dot Com

Jonathan Chin Dot Com

http://www.jonathanchin.com

grade double A poetry

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  • Naked Except for her Heart

    Posted on Sunday November 29th, 2009 at 20:46 in exercise, growth, student, 1st draft, poetry log, ps 81

    Naked Except for her Heart Inside a corrugated box that once contained a classroom set of Math is a Journey! there is: a spitball bazooka made from straws and Scotch tape and really strong lungs, someone’s grandmother’s cross strung throu...

  • Mechanical Turk

    Posted on Thursday November 26th, 2009 at 14:16 in exercise, 1st draft, poetry log

    Mechanical Turk A chessboard perpetrates a real bodied war, threats of push and pull. Beneath the checkered semaphores, a confidence man novelizes it all. Within him, diametric muscles bubble and repulse to flex a thumb, tic a lip. The sinews are bri...

  • For a Moment

    Posted on Wednesday November 25th, 2009 at 09:39 in reflection, exercise, growth, 1st draft, poetry log

    For a Moment There are days at my desk when everything is articulated neatly patient in its own plot of table top. Black pens, an open faced journal, his grandmother’s ring. I’m supposed to take them up, these things, and create something...

  • Askr y Embla

    Posted on Sunday November 22nd, 2009 at 16:09 in love, Romance, inspiration, growth, rewrite, poetry log

    (very small textual revisions) Askr y Embla Eres hermosa como un árbol de las Secoyas. Sé esto debido al ámbar en tus ojos y la altura con destino al cielo que hace imposible para no hacerme caída en amar contigo. Incluso tu nombre significa que ...

  • Flop, Turn, River

    Posted on Sunday November 22nd, 2009 at 16:07 in life, humanism, rewrite, ionesco, poetry log

    Flop, River, Turn The gnash their shoulders just from standing close to one another. The heat of bodies and now blood corralled against the lime dust. Protect the spectacle. They bark into their fists a language inbred with fury. There, a topography ...

  • My Calling rewrite

    Posted on Monday November 16th, 2009 at 10:24 in life, growth, draft, loss, humanism, rewrite, poetry log

    My Calling “you lie,” he cried and ran on. –Stephen Crane It’s the knowing that kills me. Not the knowledge of distant things that is too slowly unhidden. Journey is unavoidable in lives like these. We count the nights like pomegranate seeds....

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