Jennifer Wong

Praia do Titan

Your vowels stroke a chord in me:
look at the kids running,           
               that plane in the air.

I said next time I’m in Porto
I’d order breakfast like a local,
“Un galão, s'il vous  plaît.”

Remember the day we drove
all the way from Maia to Praia do Titan?
A slate-blue sky. Bone-biting chill.
You, a sea-child, left much behind
in Matosinhos.
Seagulls gathered and cried on the shingles.
“Those from Porto are leaving Porto,”
you spoke, philosophical, 
a warm cloud of air.

I stood there beside you—
two people in long coats
or two small dots on a beach.
The bottle-green waves ran towards us.

Words you taught me
still lolloped in my mouth:
Boa noite boa tarde bom dia

Kwan Yin

In one hand she holds
A willow branch, in the other
A jug of water.

Her thousand arms unfold
A thousand miracles.
Rising from the sea of strife,
Protector of sailors and fishermen,
Women and children,
She cannot rest

From compassion
For her heart
Is pure and firm as jade.

In lotus position
She listens,
Eyes closed, for the faintest sounds.

Jennifer Wong is a Hong Kong-born poet, artist and translator now living in London. Her poems have appeared in journals including Frogmore Papers, Warwick Review, Orbis, TATE ETC, ucity review, Cha, Iota, and New Writer. Her poetry collection, Summer Cicadas, was published by Chameleon Press and her second collection is due to be out in 2013. She studied English at Oxford and took an MA in creative writing at the University of East Anglia, UK. She doesn't like cats.