Dabin Jeong | Haiku, a Ghazal
No one told me to write a haiku.
But I am thinking about haiku
as I’m told to write a ghazal. How?
I can only pronounce haiku.
I’m thinking, how do you claim a sound
that doesn’t exist? I claim haiku
like the way I can claim ninjas
on green ginkgo leaves. I want haiku
to land in silence, decapitate
these seasonless poems. Haiku
is my legacy as much
as it is for you. Atomic haiku
hands you an empty notebook. Eastern
wisdom is bleached in your haiku.
The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black haiku.
To me, it is colonizing. My whole body
trembles against your haiku.
You say, pick and choose from the bin,
go dabble in, a ghazal or haiku.
But I am thinking about haiku
as I’m told to write a ghazal. How?
I can only pronounce haiku.
I’m thinking, how do you claim a sound
that doesn’t exist? I claim haiku
like the way I can claim ninjas
on green ginkgo leaves. I want haiku
to land in silence, decapitate
these seasonless poems. Haiku
is my legacy as much
as it is for you. Atomic haiku
hands you an empty notebook. Eastern
wisdom is bleached in your haiku.
The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black haiku.
To me, it is colonizing. My whole body
trembles against your haiku.
You say, pick and choose from the bin,
go dabble in, a ghazal or haiku.
Dabin Jeong (she/they) is a poet and translator who explores East Asian representation, Asian/American identity, and the immigrant experience through creative and academic praxis. Her poem won the Chestnut Review's 2021 Stubborn Writer's Contest, selected by Dorothy Chan. Their works appeared or are forthcoming in Indiana Review, Brooklyn Poets, Chestnut Review, Perhappened mag, and Chogwa zine. She is also a poetry editor at The Hanok Review.
