A poem from Buddhist writer Dogo
family
Nurturing Narratives
Not long after the death of my grandfather (爷爷/爺爺), my family resumed its familiar tradition. When both my grandparents were alive, my parents, my sister and me would be regularly treated to dinner at their home, where we’d enjoy the familial and communal experience of eating together and watching television. The stark difference now was […]
Keep Smiling
I’ll never forget the smile of my grandmother (po po/婆婆). Her soft, inviting grin greeted me every time I visited her with my parents and sister. Po Po always seemed excited to see us, but she expressed her excitement with a modesty that few people could perceive or appreciate outside of the family. Her excitement […]
Mafan
Mafan. 麻烦 or 麻煩 in Simplified and Traditional Chinese, respectively. Meaning: trouble; troublesome; a bother, a thorn in one’s side. Mafanwas one of the first Chinese words I learned as a child. My grandmother (maa maa / 嫲嫲 / nai nai / 奶奶) would utter the word several times throughout the day when I stayed […]
Displaced Dharma: Ukraine’s Crisis of Refugee Children
There are few experiences more distressing and traumatizing than being forced to leave home, and to flee somewhere, anywhere, that may offer physical safety from war. The endless calculations involved are exhausting: whether it is worth putting loved ones in further danger, fears of if the journey can be endured, and the sense of uncertainty […]
Have You Been There Before?
When my mother or grandfather (爷爷/爺爺) needed a break from cooking in the kitchen, my family would eat out at fast food restaurants when I was a child. McDonalds and Subway were popular options, and KFC was a favorite of my grandparents for many years. But there were times when we’d opt for a casual […]
Wild Turkey
My father was one who best understood the shy verse of sawdust and steel.When he did speak, after aged bourbon by the charred pepper glow of campfire, his words would bring dryness to the dark, the way engine-oiled machine parts are ordered and arranged under the tongue. I listened. More than he knew. I saw how his words had shapes, how some of them circled through the air, […]
A Scene from Cumberland Bay
Before his sister could budge him out of the way,Mendon climbsdown the rabbit hole to a window in the stars where everything worth seeing is hidden inside a half-devoured pine cone. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher […]
When Film Took More Than Time
I found this pictureof myself when Iwas less than a year old-September 1981 – in my mother’s arms, wading near a beach on the American side of the St. Lawrence River.She held me by my pits with a smile good enough to getmy father’s attention. George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in […]
Leaf Pile
Five months after you came into the world, you discovered the fawnbrown mystery of brittle leaves in December. Back when the winterswere late upon the earth. With your sister, you played in the pileof leaves like a small doll sinking intothe earth itself. Into a wormhole of foliage,and a cataclysm of autumn. Laughing atnothing but the act of […]