Danielle Nguyen Poems

Their mindless, bowing heads
Don’t look too different from Germany 1940s
Don’t look too different from ants at the queen
Don’t look too different from vapid, suckling piglets
...

Small desert flowers like
small, soft hands,
nestled in a pool of sand,
helpless under the indifferent sun,
...

Snow.
I froze Like a brick wall.
Look up. Was she crying?
So quiet. Silent ringing.
...

I have taken this opportunity of the frozen morning-night
to reflect upon the now-cooled sweat of your skin,
the broad planes of your back upon which the
moonlight drifts, falling into subtle shallows
...

Was it a heaven-place or a hell-place? They asked me.
And when I looked up, I wondered if they could see
a sky so grey.
I tell them, it was both.
...

I wait for night time.
I, the messenger of dreams,
stand under the black expanse
arching tall and vastly silent
...

Oh! You pretty things. he says
Let's rock
The hair almost electric, tacky and tall
The face glittering and shining
...

You’re so sad.

I can tell when my fingers move
before your empty stare
...

When afternoons are quiet and
birds chirp outside,
I think of my father.
I can see him standing there,
...