Thursday, March 17, 2016

The Wind and the Mountain

I am the wind.
Hail and ice.
Water and daggers of obsidian. 
I speak my mind, and cut with shade.
I bless the earth with my wet dance, and flowers to bloom.
Healing mist of a morning due.
Deathly hollow screams in the night.
Cool breeze on a sunny day.
And there you stand, mountain.
The one who does not fear or tremble or bend to my push.
Unyielding in your admiration of my chest and thrust.
You see me.
You smile.
And you stand there.
Unshaken.
Absorbing my dew.
In your valleys I rest my head.
Hugged by your minerals and metals.
Enriched is the soil of our love.
Beautiful is the sunset against the clouds of our heaven.

Sunday, March 6, 2016

The boy

There is a boy who lives at the edge of the water
By the ocean 
Beside the forest 
There he stands, nude, I said, but saw nothing 
His skin milky soft 
Honey down his cheeks 
Thighs so thick, he can lift the sky 
A mind so sharp, the sun fears his cuts of shade 
Eyes of almond tears 
And hair as black as coal 

A boy lives by the ocean 
He is to be followed 
Wind cool of mist, and weary of the heat 

My embrace thirsts for his kisses

Dear bird on the tree
Why do I fear so much 
No! She said to me
You melt to him 

Ocean, I want more! 
She said yes
Ocean, what do I do 
Go to him, and left him go? 
Yes, she said yes. 
The Mother Earth is soft 
And speaks only through supporting you 
She tells me and gives me a path
To him 
But what is this in my way? 
Love 
Money 
Books 
Naked sexy boys 
AIDS? 
The boy has no fear
Ocean, will you heal me? 
No! Rain will heal you
In the curve of your back, you will have power
Die everyday 
And live 


To know, the boy is with you through earth.

Monday, February 15, 2016

my interest in dance


I am interested in dance that cries. 
I am interested in dances that scream. 
I am interested in war dances.
I am interested in dances that heal.
I am interested in dances that are obsessed with not being obsessed with themselves. 
I am interested in dances that enact ethnography.
I am interested in dances that play with equations of dark matter.
I am interested in the estranged dancer.
I am interested in the uncommon dancing body.
I am interested in the decaying dancing body.
I am interested in the most interesting thing about the dancer, which is how they live their life.
I am interested in the training and sacrifice of dancers.
I am interested in the hunger of dancers, and its suppression.
I am interested in HIV postive dancers.
I am interested in dancers with diabetes.
I am interested in dances that comfort me with ideas of revolution.
I am interested in dances that compel me to become the dancer, and the dancers then viewers of me.
I am interested in dances that walk backwards.
I am interested in dancer who do not face the audience.
I am interested in the back dancer in the corp, instead of the principal.
I am interested in the expendability of dance, and thus the expendability of dancers.
I am interested in the ephemeral aspects of dance, and thus the ephemeral aspects of dancers, and their economy.
I am interested in how unsustainable dance moments are sustained in dance companies, in unsustainable ways, for capitalist progress.
I am interested in dances who don't seek audiences, but who draw audiences in without escape.
I am interested in dances who are alive, and remain so.
I am interested in dancers who die, and are resurrected.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Stay Sass-y by Thong Nguyen

I love collecting these shorts of post, because they inspire me to think about all sorts of questions, such as:
-What does it mean to be sassy?
-How does San Jose, as an epicenter of tech and males play into gay fantasy?
-What does it mean or matter for gay asian men to self-identify as sassy? If the gay asian male is "supposed" to be "quiet and passive", how does sass subvert our expectations of asian males? And how does it challenge our perspectives of gay asian males? And further, how does sass disrupt our expectations for masculinity?
-How does sass add and trouble the discursive gay identity or schema?
-Can sass be danced? How? Can this dance be materialized? Could this photograph be an artifact of sassy choreography?
-Is sass gendered? Can sass exist outside of gender? Can sass be a gender itself?
-How can, and how is, sass deployed as a strategy for survival in the heteronormative hegemonic society?

Stay Sass-y 
by Thong Nguyen 
Source: facebook 

Friday, December 11, 2015

The adventure of Devin and Sid:

The adventure of Devin and Sid:
Sid: Look, yeah, I'll ask steve if he got any 420
Dev: that right that right, wait yo, who iz steve?
Sid: Steven, homie i told you about him
Dev: Boii, I can't keep up with all the delicious man mean after chinito!
Sid: well, really steven and jaime
Dev: I can't, you and your latin meat yo.
Sid: so spicy
Dev: you racist
Sid: yeah well they don't talk to me anymore
Dev: wait when you getting the stuff tho, impo'tant matters, keep focused!

Antonio discovers Twax:

Antonio discovers Twax:

A: hey so this is where you live?
T: yeah, I live with my parents...I used to live alone, on my own, when i moved out when I was 17. But you know, it got me here.
A: oh, yea... Tina?
T: yea, so you gonna fuck me?
A: yeah...I you got poppers?
T: yeah, you party? oh shit no, yea you don't
A: yeah I think Im allergic or something
T: k... kk... I don't suck dick man... I have a boy you know?
A: yea I get you. k, you got lube bro?
T: yeah yeah. aw shit no, lotion okay?
A: sure...
T: K... let's go, Let me just set up one thing first.

//They start taking off their own clothes. Twax sets up the TV, and plays porn. There isn't any sound, and then some R&B/HIP HOP comes on overlaying the porn. Lights fade.//
//lights up, the two start putting on clothes//

Twax: you like that shit?
Antonio: yeah? what's that called?
T: its a popper trainer, its on Xtube all over the..... place...yea...tells you when to huff and when to take that shit.
A: cool i'll look that up.
T: k. let me clean up okay? I need to finish some things over here, can you please wait in the car?
A: yeah I will.
T: don't leave me okay? please don't leave me? please? wait, i'll be 5 there in 5 min.
A: right due. oh btw you need to make me a CD of the music, it was dope!
T: yea lot of dudes say that, they like my music. but that's my life, I love music. I'd love to get into that, you know, I have, tho, but music is my life, a lot of people say that. k don't leave me k?
A: right.

//antonio gets into the car and waits, listens to NPR talk about racism in the supreme courts//
//Twax enters with 2 sprite cans of soda//

Twax: sorry dude, I didn't have coffee
Antonio: all good, I don't drink that but that's cool.
T: thanks for driving me to work, it's just a right, then all the way down.
A: yeah I don't know Hayward that well, so just keep directing me.
T: cool.
A: so you have a man?
T: yeah, he cheats on me a lot but I love him.
A: what's going on? I mean you just fucked me?
T: Yeah, I mean.... he fucks other dudes, and I fuck other dudes, and its hard you know. But I love him and he loves me. like yeah. but we are exclusive. I've asked him to have an open relationship, but he don't want me with other guys like that?
A: yeah you should just have an open relationship. fuck other dudes, and date each other.
T: yeah but its hard with Tina. like it's gotten rid of all my friends. not like I need them anyways. It's ruined my life. but I still have a house and live with my parents. so I'm cool. I just have him, even if when I leave him he's looking for another dude to get high with, I know he say he's not fucking anyone else, but the moment he closes the door, he's looking for his next hook-up to pick up. our addiction is killing, us, we need rehab before it kills both of us.
A: yea...
T: yo you can leave me off here, this my work
A: okay... bye.
T: yeah keep the soda. thanks for the ride.
//Twax leaves the car//
Antonio: he's not going to work...I bet there is a pick up here....I wonder if Devin knows this dude...

#GoneHoliday

Saturday, December 5, 2015

Las Vegas Reflections

He told me, even in his drunk state, that he liked me because my eyes were caring.
Even when I was silly, warm, cold or critical, my eyes cared--I was not empty.
Did he see my glitter?
All that glitters is not gold.