Revolutionary Letters

REVOLUTIONARY LETTER #1

A fire took over the country, at first

it was a candlelight, when people were forbidden to pray

for who suffocated in smoke, for the struggling lives

wandering in blockaded streets, the ones who lost their last breath

in front of hospital gates, the incarcerated

for unnamed crimes; and the students

who spent their lives in walls, stood up chanting poems

about the unmistakable blue sky, and the lies of December

//

road lights, marching, chanting, singing, exploding at the top of the throats

cops, blockade, wrestling, separating, fighting, fighting females, undisguised violence

in uniformed black, as we witness, as the hope was seized

behind the lowered curtain, they interrogate, they

open the door, taking down the unprotected bodies

//

do not restart, remember, inscribe it

into the forgetful minds, carve deep until

it becomes an ever-bleeding scar, pains as we touch, as we recount

the anger and the pride, as we grow in the agony of the soul

that never dies, as we seek revenge, to him who

replaces our pain with old tricks and new crimes

REVOLUTIONARY LETTER #2

When you cross the road don’t look left and right

Let the wind scratch your face

your life hanging on the line

When you walk on the street look into the strangers’ eyes

Do they understand their presence

or merely walking dead

When your mind slips out of the track, your temper growing bad

Do not overlook, watch it spread

//

Do you tear off the slogans, from the wall of shopping malls

Do you take off your mask, before the dark falls on us all

Write your own speech notes, in a vocabulary of your own

The propaganda in pieces, for the shade of blood they’ve shown

From now on never walk straight, walk against the crowd

let your shoulder collide with others’, the pain is two-way felt

Except, do stop at the traffic lights

when you cross the road, you should look left and right

REVOLUTIONARY LETTER #21

A true proletarian, tears are all I can produce

The wind in April is warm and moist

bathwater running

two cats walk on street side by side

beds can always be soft and comfy, if you replace the sheets twice a week

cigarettes on balcony

empty streets

tomatoes and cucumbers make a easy dinner dish

pulling off the packaging bags, hands dripping wet by the alcohol spray

I put on early summer dress, delicate pastel shades

wind slips through my legs

for once, I forget all the bad dreams

if only the speakers are off, if only I can jump off and touch the green

the sun is dripping down

beautiful, not cruel

sinking, singing, sinning

now open your eyes, hands on your knees

now confess; report every sunset as you need

now say it; don’t overthink it

pleasure! Not the pain.

REVOLUTIONARY LETTER #46 -Halftime Break

You say: “I’m delighted.”

And I’ll be wondering and pondering, contemplating

Daydreaming, nightdreaming, fantasizing, reasoning, hallucinating

your gaze before you averted it from mine

the meaning your words underlie

how you laughed to my rude jokes

when we played cards, when you easily saw through my hoax

Was it a bad game, or a nice fold?

blood rushed to my brain and brightened my face

thanks to the weird-taste gin

in the shade of pink

I pressed slightly against my heart; I slipped a secret into a statement

packaged plain, because I wanted you to read

You said: “I’m delighted.”

REVOLUTIONARY LETTER #99

Aren’t we brave. We

set a fire. We

Take pride

in committed crimes. We

Lay low. We

Sleep slow. We

Dive deep. We

Strike streets. We

Outlive. We

Stay clean.

--inspired by Gwendolyn Brooks’ poem “We Real Cool”

Artist’s Statement

            I created this project inspired by Diane di Prima’s work, Revolutionary Letters. In her live reading, she said that she started this new form of writing for the audience who would gather in the city hall steps and do public reading. As for me, I wrote these poems for a different but also political context. A series of protests took place all over China at the beginning of December 2022. It was triggered by the Urumqi fire that took away innocent lives who couldn’t escape the apartment building when the fire broke out. During these protests, I witnessed how powerful poetry could be for political movements. They are political statements, rally points under which people united, and fast spread sparks that elicited people’s emotions and feelings until they led to an unstoppable wildfire. I created my series of Revolutionary Letters with this movement in mind. I was writing in response to these protests, but also contributing to a larger and ongoing protest against the authoritarian regime in China and the bureaucratic institution that embodies it. When I write I imagine an audience that gathers on the frontline of such protests. I also imagine the readers who would read these pieces on their smartphones in the stream of information on social media platform, which is another important venue for revolutions today. Because it’s a life-long revolution that does not easily end, I added poems about personal feelings, love, intimacy, and relationships, to suggest that these are also part of our life, part of our revolution.

            I revised my work by changing the imaginary context. I imagined reading them to a crowd on the chaotic streets through loudspeakers or reading them as social media posts that people would like and repost. This project is part of a larger and ongoing revolution, so I would imagine it to be continued as long as the regime still stands. I think the political aspect of the poems is working well, because it is very specific and related to real life. But it is also the part that could be improved, because I feel like my own identity and the faces of people who’re involved in the revolution are blurred in simplified political statements. I think by being political, it shouldn’t only be specific about political facts, but also about the individuals behind the politics. I might further revise them in this aspect.

            My project is relevant to the spirit of the Black Arts Movement’s poetry, as it shares a similar political and empowering nature. However, it’s not that critical and conceptually deconstructive as the works we read in the Black Arts Movement. My project is influenced by the authentic and spontaneous writing style of Beat poets. When I was stuck in the first line or in the middle, I would just try to write a line by my spontaneous thought, instead of intentionally continuing the previous flow. When writing about personal feelings, relationships and intimacy, I first read Edna St. Vincent Millay’s poems again and then started writing. My last piece borrows the form of Gwendolyn Brook’s poem “We Real Cool”, because it is politically strong and neat in its form.