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Best Poems Written by Jackie Chou

Below are the all-time best Jackie Chou poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Senryu

letting the roach live
compassion
or squeamishness

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Sestina of Autofill

I am an evening of scented season,
wondering if you've given me
this stairway with the gold curls. 
Who changed her name to Stacy?
Later in my throbbing red heart,
you were forest green and lush apples.

I have learned to pick my apples,
the reddest ones no matter what season.
Then you wormed your way into my heart,
gnawing away the discretion in me.
I wish I had a pretty name like Stacy,
and sunlight in my spiral curls.

A snake who maneuvers in curls,
you savor the tartness of granny apples, 
dreaming of girls with names like Stacy,
who are cherries of the spring season,
while courting an old dame like me,
careless about breaking my heart.

I've wondered about the color of your heart.
It has wound its way around me in curls,
so tightly you almost suffocate me.
Now I am just the core of an apple,
tossed to the dirt in a cold season.
Maybe I will reincarnate as Stacy!

My childhood nemesis is named Stacy.
Oh, how she left an ache in my heart,
with blushed cheeks of a peach in season,
and glossy lips in a perpetual curl.
In everyone’s eyes I was the apple,
until that Snow White replaced me.

The whole world has replaced me,
full of young versions of Stacy.
My wrinkled skin is like fermented apples.
Now I tell people, hey, I have a kind heart.
I need no curler to make my lashes curl.
I change with the colors of a new season.

You've handed an apple to the piteous me.
It is love's season, nothing to do with Stacy.
The warm cushion of your heart is where I'll curl.

Details | Jackie Chou Poem

I Am Sushi

I am your clam, your mussel
I am your tuna, your salmon
I am your cream cheese
I am your rice, white and full-figured
I am your peculiar cilantro
I am your wasabi 
I am your sweet ginger
Am I a delicacy?
Do I taste good?
Don’t you think you had too much meat? 
Maybe I should have more carrot and more cucumber.
But still, I am sushi
That’s what’s important to me

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The Purloined Coffee

like a night fairy
you invaded
my side of the room
stealing my coffee
hot handed
like the money
with which it was procured
selling poetry
composed with heart
and sore fingers
holding ballpoint pen
put together 
the old fashioned way 
carrying the books
everywhere I go 
asking anyone interested
to buy a copy
now thanks to you
I have to purchase more
of this daily necessity
with what is left
in my wallet

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Bad Poet

I have nothing to lose, by submitting.
My poems aren't perfect, I'm admitting.
A crime of bad rhymes, I'm committing.
A disease of word misuse, I'm transmitting.
I try to be hard-hitting, but my diction is unfitting.
There are times I feel like quitting,
Then a gem is born, after some diligent editing.

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Heavenly Things

Heavenly Things

Eggs for breakfast and oatmeal with honey
Buffets with sushi and boyfriends with money
The tranquil room when my roommate's sleeping
These are a few of my favorite things

Criminal Minds and sermons of Joel Osteen 
Girl with Down syndrome crowned Homecoming queen
Waking up to coffee in the morning
These are a few of my favorite things 

Sparkling water and artificial sweetener
Playing Scrabble and California weather 
A seat in the bus where no one's sitting
These are a few of my favorite things 

When my brain rings
And the day stings
And the clouds are dark
I simply think of their silver linings
And I don't feel so stark

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Ode To a Man On a Social Media Photo

He’s no Romeo, the man in the photo
There was a young man with the same name 
I think I met him twenty years ago 

He was no Mr. Popularity but an average Joe
He had steel rimmed glasses and a lanky frame 
He’s no Romeo, the man in the photo

I can’t control where my fingers go
Social media is a one-sided stalking game 
I think I met him twenty years ago 

Sometimes he was less a friend than a foe
Arguing about politics every time he came
He is no Romeo, the man in the photo 

Yet I can’t deny that I miss him so
Wondering what the eccentric man ever became
I think I met him twenty years ago 

All in all, he brought more laughter than woe 
Clowning with a spoon on his nose without shame
He’s no Romeo, the man in the photo
I think I met him twenty years ago

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Butterfly

Butterfly

Envy eats you
as I flutter by
all eyes on me

It is hard for me
to pay you heed
when I fly in mid-air

You try to pick me
from the sky
smash me in your palm

But I'm too far
above you
for you to reach

My sparkles
spill from my wings
igniting the earth

Build a stairway
to the moon
one step at a time

Then gaze down
and see me
a mere insect

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Untitled

this blue mood
I stop believing
in fortune cookies

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For My Friend Who Lost Her Life To Suicide

Like a wild rose on the sidewalk
you lived your life
smiling to others
oblivious of your own fragility 

You held your head high
until the weight of your disease
bent your neck 
and depressed your head 

Your will to live
browned like petals
fell to the ground
obliterated by the storms
of this battle we fight 

and I, for all this time
did not try to know you
did not relate to you
until I myself 
lay awake wanting to die 

Selfishness is a rock
difficult to break 
to soften, or to 
permeate kindness into 

You were to me
a breeze passing 
through a stream 
leaving ripples of impact 

You were a friend
who modeled assertiveness
by speaking your mind
without being unkind 

I will never again
see your survivor smile
but the fire of your spirit
shall not leave my memory