a collection of poems written from 2014 to 2019
This anthology was my very first writing project. My aim was to paint a picture of my adolescence by putting together a few of my most personal poems. I decided on the name ‘Baby Teeth’ after realising all of these pieces hold still at least one moment that has greatly contributed to my transition into adulthood. I am who I am today because of them.
I started writing after discovering slam poetry. As a tribute to the genre, each poem was written with the intention of being read out loud. I have never performed them live (someday, I hope I will get the chance). Until then, however, you can just listen to the sound files I included and pretend I’m giving you a private show!
Zhī Jiān
Everywhere from a school to a Chinese buffet,A fellow minority asks, ‘Do you speak Chinese?’ They stare at me, waiting for an answer, Waiting for someone who can open the Pandora boxes in their throats To give them the tongue they abandoned for another. Fellow minority asks, ‘Are you Chinese?’ I am the only one who looks…
about: immigration, cultural identity, ethnic identity, & language
The Empty Seat at the Dining Table
I called you Daddy when you drove us on your motorcycle As we surf through the mountain’s unsteady path.Guided by your steady hands, you made falling the last thing I had to worry about. You bought me chocolate milkOnly to see me spill it on my most expensive clothes. Foolishly laughing, we headed to the…
about: fatherless daughters
Late Mourning
A shadow took its form of a distant relative. His hair was of a dark mushroom－shiitake. One would have thought that he claimed the trenches In Korea when given a glimpse of his palms. Gun wounds,Battle scars, Defective organs. He had body parts he long parted withBefore I had the chance to meet any of them. A rounded…
about: dealing with a relative's death
We Work Hard So We Can Love Less
Everyone saw something wrong with meSo they told me to look for a lover Who can go ahead and fix me. It made me think I was supposed to be fixedBy someone other than myself. I wasn’t as capable and efficient as a man Who can fix his engines as well as his women. All…
about: falling in love with someone who is mentally ill
A Familiar Face
The feeling of nostalgia has always been bittersweet. You remember a certain scene, the flavour of which varies for everyone. You start to relive something from the past, savouring all the emotions you may have felt. But with this, comes a sudden and cruel realisation: the show must go on, with or without you. There…
about: relapse
Not a Phase, Just a Way of Life
My gaze follows the waves of your hair, desperate as much as my lungs plead for air. If it be my last, please let me say your name In the way I’ve always wanted to. Not the way that they expect, but the way In which every letter danced up and downLike the heartbeat I try…
about: coming out to yourself and then to everyone else
Flickering Flame of Teenage Romance
Lust I seeAnd lust I hearAs words of so called loveRoll down your tongueAlong with your zipper. It’s what you speak of,But not what I feel. Jan Lunette5 March 2015
about: learning the differences between lust and love
Sixth Sense
Whenever you breathe, All I can see are clouds of herThoughts lingering in your insides. You take in her syllablesAnd exhale each and everyOne with no hesitation. Whenever you sleep, All I can hear is her nameBlending with your every snooze. You fall soundly to herVoice in your dreams,Wishing and wantingFor only her. Whenever you…
about: being a rebound
She Was Not Born Angry
Angry feminist. She is the girl On her knees who had too much to drink. The strands of her hair are paintedWith the yellow stains of her digestion. Her head is turned three-sixty,But that doesn’t mean her words are too. The alcohol kicks inWhen you hear her say no. Angry feminist. She is the business lady Who…
about: sexism, harassment, & double standards
Food Chain
Others found joy in late night runs to Maccies, a face full of cheeseburgers, a long inhale of chicken tenders, and even more so the snacks in between. She had a similar appetite, but only for instant gratification (the kind with no calories). She was hungry for meaningless approvals, empty gestures of admiration, and anything…
about: eating disorders and body dysmorhpia
Shelf Life
The sound of the wheels scratching the floorWelcomes me to a place that is everything but. My words, forced out with a smile,‘Hi, you alright?’ I try not to stutter and say anything That I will regret and inevitably overthink about. Sometimes, I am lucky and face someone Who pretends to smile as much as…
about: working at a convenience store
Jan Lunette 