This is the blog of Cha. Here, you can read updates about the journal and its contributors as well as ramblings by our bloggers. Want to say hullo? Contact: editors@asiancha.com
Monday, 15 November 2010
Arlene Ang in Rougarou
Arlene Ang's poem "After the Flood" is now published in the Fall 2010 issue of Rougarou: An Online Literary Journal. Read the poem here.
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Arlene Ang's poetry was published in issue #1 of Cha.
Arlene Ang's poem "After the Flood" Is an undead story Like Zombies Or Vampires Of Werewolves
Rougarou is the journal's name Rougarou is also the same as loup garou, the wolf monsters Who wander bayous at night
Yet unlike ghost stories That seek to scare, We are shown death poetically "Underground, the infinite dance of soil around moving insects, the star-nosed moles that played our bodies like pianos" The dance of death With the music Played by moles On our bodies
A dance macabre That somehow reanimates Without reviving the Dead seeking life "We travel from town to town in search of what we’ve lost: blood, family, hunger, a heartbeat. Like the living, we cannot let go"
Can you not feel the anguish The longing for what was lost Can you not feel the fear Children must feel as well When walking the bayous at night Knowing what's waiting for them In the humid, stalking darkness
For finally how are we the living To know how to relate to the dead Who have disappeared into the waters That can swallow us into their depths
Arlene Ang's poem
ReplyDelete"After the Flood"
Is an undead story
Like Zombies
Or Vampires
Of Werewolves
Rougarou is the journal's name
Rougarou is also the same as
loup garou, the wolf monsters
Who wander bayous at night
Yet unlike ghost stories
That seek to scare,
We are shown death poetically
"Underground,
the infinite dance of soil
around moving insects,
the star-nosed moles
that played our bodies
like pianos"
The dance of death
With the music
Played by moles
On our bodies
A dance macabre
That somehow reanimates
Without reviving
the Dead seeking life
"We travel from town to town
in search of what we’ve lost:
blood, family, hunger, a heartbeat.
Like the living, we cannot let go"
Can you not feel the anguish
The longing for what was lost
Can you not feel the fear
Children must feel as well
When walking the bayous at night
Knowing what's waiting for them
In the humid, stalking darkness
For finally how are we the living
To know how to relate to the dead
Who have disappeared into the waters
That can swallow us into their depths
yamabuki