Special Showcase: Reflective Writing Workshop

These poems were written this fall in a reflective writing workshop with Toronto based Hong Fook  Mental Health Association. We contemplated a variety of artworks, including works by contemporary and historical Asian artists, artists suggested by participants, art by participants, Canadian art, and more. Thank you so much to the poets for showing your work to the world!

"blue night" is inspired by Starry Night by Matthew Wong (Canada) 2019, at 1.15 in above video.

blue night

in the night, it is quieter, calmer
the sky like blankets - thick, soft, heavy, held
it isn’t warmer, but comforting all the same.

i am flattened by darkness
life is fuzzy and and and and
my thoughts are smaller.

it is black in darkness but,
most blacks are blue, in reality

there is softness, there is depth
blues are heavy in a way unexplained.
heavy, but not cloying
there are no promises in a blue night
the world breathes quiet and holds me here.

in the night, the colour floats like a cape
a weight i chose, and so too, it is done.
the way it has been - forever.
good night

Winsome Adelia Tse

This work was inspired by the painting Nocturntable, by the above artist, Duy Huynh, the fifth image at this link: click here.

​Nocturntable

Secluded far away from the city of lights, lies ominously a sleepless pond of lily pads. As the water lilies slumber deep into the moonless night, a heron as glossy as white crystal pearls lingers over an ancient antique forgotten as the course of time moves into a new era. Just a little peak from the bird's beak, the record player dances a fragile tune that displays its hoarse voice from not singing for aeons. As it scratches the surface of the vinyl discs, where the dust bunnies float like cherry blossoms wafting down the trees during the autumn seasons, the melody merges into the soothing zephyr. The gloomy clouds surrendered to unveil the iridescent sky with a celestial body beaming, gleaming the small oasis and leaving the scene like a dreamlike state. Gradually, the lilies wake from their morning snooze, blooming life all around the majestic creature and the vintage audio device. Mumbled words that were no longer spoken and sounds that are constantly cracking and fading, nonetheless bringing nearby objects alive like a marionette performing a ballet controlled by songs played from above. Words and phrases mean nothing, yet the music speaks universally to all. Silently humming tunes where just between the two of us can listen in a harmonious paradise.

Janet L.

Janet L. lives in Toronto, Canada. She got interested in writing not too long ago and was pleasantly surprised by how exciting it is. She enjoys playing video games, reading graphic novels and listening to a variety of music genres (from Kpop to gaming soundtracks and Eurobeat). She is currently a college student.​

Season Inside Season, by Thanh Nhan Nyugen (Vietnam) 2020. Click image for artist site.

waters of secret

large pads of lily, of lotus, of legend
a far off mist creeps into your gaze.
eyes lose focus, thoughts elsewhere
to mystery unfolding…
but what?

“Tonight, I have met my crane wife,”
is that how it goes?
a memory soaked in water,
fish eye lens,
‘delicious,’ - that was the bird.

I am myself and you and her and they…
they meet in shadowed jungle, - or was it forest?

we are lost in the moment
my beautiful bride
poised to meet me in secret.
a moment stolen all we can
“Hello again, my Love”

Winsome Adelia Tse

Aurore, by Winsome Adelia Tse (Canada) 2016. Click on image for artist site.

​Poem After Aurore Sculpture

Once upon a time 
Lighthearted in a family house  
Harmony was the world 
Plane fled like a shot
Solutions appeared as magic 
Cinderella would be my future 
 
Awake in my bed 
Depressed living alone in an apartment 
Conflict through the world
Plane moves as weather 
Solutions require logic
Lars* is who I am 

Anonymous

*Lars is a fictional character from the movie, Lars and the Real Girl (2007)

Location, Location, Location by Cynthia Tom (USA) contemporary. Click on image for artist's platform "A Place of Her Own" benefiting people with trauma through art and community.

Poem for Cynthia Tom's Painting

Leaving the bamboo house
Through a mist of blue and miles of mountain to a distant ground
Home over my head 
Toilsome cultivation for a living 
But rice nowhere to be found
Deserted farmland, east meets west 
Seed grows a modern Woman 
Standing on farm soil yet a root to be found 
In the outskirt of the farm 
Glad to find the taste of home

Anonymous

**

a safe of my own

it is warm again.
sigh, exhale, weightless
in my mind, i return to the sunlit meadow again
i am glowing, softly.
i think of none and of calm and of being alight

Sunny windowsill
the air - oh, it is warm again.
fingertips pressed against expanse of clear glass
stillness, but not rigid
soak in it like a feeling of goodness
the sky is blue but my eyelids are gold-orange

it is warm; i could stand here all day,
it is warm; there is nothing waiting on me,
it is warm - and so it is,
it is warm again.

Winsome Adelia Tse

caught in a storm

What must it feel like for skin to change,
The shift beneath the surface
Bone, sinew, flesh - 
Moving… rearranging… pushing... 
Out at your fingertips.

Are you still yourself?
Have you ever been?

a conflict within:
in myself, two sides, - or perhaps more
tugging me to form
shaping me to their nature and whim
at mercy of thunderous forces

when i am rocked to sleep by naked discomfort
of which i find no cause, no completion
my skin wraps around me and hums -
Cacophonous.

i cannot say the change as it happens
i cannot name it until i am of the otherside
if i find myself there -
A new presence,
A new sound to ear, -
i shall find it,
body as anew.

Winsome Adelia Tse

Fruits and Flowers, by Seraphine Louis (France) 1920

angelic

in the leaves, i see my mother’s eyes
they look at me, repeating on each branch,
they rustle but don’t blink

if i close my eyes, the angels will sing again
so i paint like they say, and maybe tomorrow
i will see Mother again

when the wind sings instead, the angels are quiet
my heart flows like a breeze picking up fallen debris
my mother smiles at me in the branches and
i smile back big and i sing

i am her angel and i sing and i paint and
i keep my eyes open wide to see her, 
between the trees

Winsome Adelia Tse

Winsome Adelia Tse is an artist, designer, and creative from Greater Toronto, Canada. She works in a variety of media on themes of introspection, beauty, and the monumental within the mundane. Though her professional work manifests visually, she often finds her personal thoughts and immediate response of experiencing the world spilling out onto pages as poetry. Regardless of final product, her process is as much intellectualized, as it is visualized. She sees each creation as its own contained story, worth telling no matter grand or fleeting. A selection of her visual works is on her artist portfolio, www.winsomeadeliatse.com.