Book Spine Poetry

April is National Poetry Month! While I would celebrate by sharing books from my favorite poets, I found this idea to create poems with book spine poetry: in a dark, dark wood, Eliza And Her Monsters, speak The Things She’s Seen. A Child Called “It”, Boy, 9, Missing, A Water Dancer. The Weight of Silence…

Published Poem

I recently submitted a poem to Robi, an online literary journal, by Bangladeshi Identity Project. As it says on its introduction page, this journal in intended for the Bengali diaspora by the Bengali diaspora. It’s for us Bengalis that belong there, in our native country, but call this place our home too. Despite speaking our…

Mood

Poem by Juansen Dizon i overthink. i over love. i over feel. i am the sea or i am nothing.

An Ode

Wind, Your serenade makes the leaves twirl about, Twirling and twirling and twirling As if their feet just can’t stop dancing, The blades of grass running across the ground, In mindful chatter, As if time is of the essence. Where are you all off to? With outstretched arms, trees reach up to be caressed, Their…

Winter in Bangladesh

The best part of a foggy, wintry morning in the rural parts around here is enjoying the sweet, sweet, raw molasses, freshly collected from the sap of date trees, free of dust, noise, pollution, and corruption.     A big thank you to baba (my father) who helped me understand the process of how the…

After what seemed like forever, thunder, dragging his feet, roamed off to somewhere distant, roaring and calling. And just like that, the clouds parted and let the sun peek through, as her light caressed everything she touched.   》》》 I don’t know why it took me so long to post this. It was just lying…

Blackout Poetry

I am about to introduce Blackout poetry to my class for student teaching. Personally, I have been meaning to do this for a while. So when I decided I wanted to teach a lesson on poetry, this was one of the first things that came to mind as I was coming up with activities. This…

The Danger of a Single Story

“The single story creates stereotypes and the problem with stereotypes is not that they aren’t true, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.” -Chimamanda Adichi, The Danger of a Single Story  

Parched

i feel your touch so i reach for you only to meet nothingness as you are whisked away from my reality your name softly bouncing off the walls if only i could’ve done the same as i stare blankly at the side of my wooded table wishing you were here