Some short poems by Isaac Eide


My Turn

If you love everything.

If you hate everything.

If you do not know where to turn.

Write.

And you will turn,

   al(l)ways.

I Magi

Imagine there were no cracks in the universe.

Imagine that fit snugly together and had a that it was meant to be.

Imagine now that the opposite of that in actuality the opposite of that is happening.

A swirling mass of messy particles bumping into each other existing in all the places at once and simultaneously nowhere. Imagine.

Now imagine.

Imagine now.

Image.

I magi.

I’m a.

I’m.

I am.

I

imagine

therefore…

By the End

By the end of this poem I will know what I am doing.

By the end of this poem you will know what I am doing.

-Isaac Eide

Resistance


  1. What does it mean to resist? When our head interferes with our heart, in our art, when our flow is interrupted, when there is disruption in our receptivity, we are resisting.
  2. Writing itself is resistance.
  3. I went to Barefoot College in Tilonia, one of the poorest villages in rural India. I saw puppets educating elders on matters of social justice and musicians educating children on social change.
  4. A kathak dancer, Mallika Sarabhai goes to villages all over India. She educates women on menstrual hygiene through theatre.
  5. I vomited on stage, an Aftertaste of my arrival in America. It was a play about the international experience.
  6. When I was seven, I wrote an angry letter to my grandfather when he wouldn’t listen. We cannot talk back, we need to respect our elders my culture preaches. I scrunched my letter into a ball and threw it at him. He threw it out of the window.
  7. I spoke about reclaiming my voice, my accent at Naropa.
  8. My parents challenge customer care representatives everytime they answer the phone. My parents’ accent “confuses them”. Dear America, must you only understand the norm?
  9. “What is the relevance of writing? Will it get you a job?” my father said.
  10. I speak perfect English. Are you waiting for me to talk in Hindi, will that make me more exotic? Will that make my activism special? Chutiye saale
  11. Two Indian Americans speak about the terror attacks in a school in Peshawar in broken Hindi at a silent vigil. My friend from Pakistan walks out. Must we always voice that which we don’t understand?
  12. Must we always have a cause to resist?
  13. Can’t we just lie down on the grass and enjoy this sunny day?
  14. Please don’t call my approach radical.

Chipotle


Today my aunt asked me to change my home address from India to New Jersey on my resume for a job at Chipotle.

My cousin said, “My appetite after coming to USA has increased. I can finish an entire rice bowl at Chipotle.”

Assimilation has varied forms.

Dear,


Dear fear,

Dear guilt,

Dear confusion,

Dear Youtube,

Dear Buzzfeed,

Dear Superwoman,

Dear Justin Bieber,

Dear Miley Cyrus,

Dear chronic backpain,

Dear insomnia,

Dear depression,

Dear weed,

Dear uncle,

Dear ex lover,

Dear future lover,

Dear Ria,

Dear Pema Chodron,

Dear Anne Waldman,

Dear Reed Bye,

Dear CA Conrad,

Dear Jane,

Dear Liat,

Dear John,

Dear money,

Dear woman,

Dear mother,

Dear Vassar,

Dear Social Justice Warriors,

Dear activists,

Dear Buddhists,

Dear white people,

Dear Americans,

Dear Indians,

Dear junk food,

Dear porn,

Dear Mom and Dad,

Dear Dada,

Dear incomplete sentences,

Dear