Poetry by Alex Dang
you know has
an oh so debonair
look that makes even the
moon blush? Who’s that fine
young man leading warriors to a
new dawn, donning the wolf’s courage,
and a smile snowstorms learn a thing or
seven from? Let me tell you about the story
of the boy who would stay by his friends no
matter the odds; did you know he defied all?
Like, he took down an entire air fleet of bad
guys through the quick steps of his mind.
Quick! Step into a mind undefined by limit.
There is a prison, that’s inside of a volcano,
sitting in the middle of a boiling lake: guess
who’s the genius who broke in to break out?
Once, a meteor shower fell out the black sky
and out of that inkiness our boy wrote a new
story. Used his hands to forge a blade like no
one has ever seen. That sword was out of this
world! He was taught by a master; learned to
use the blade as an extension of himself, like
an arm to disarm. Now armed with an art so
much like calligraphy: you cannot take back
any stroke, there are no mistakes in the way of the sword. Print
your name on the page; carve the word that best describes your
soul; brevity is the soul of wit and Sokka’s wit is so full of soul,
like a blade
in the moon
light, lit up
and so light.
He looks up
her a poem:
I miss you so much.
Every night when you pull the
tides, my heart goes too.
Zuko Demands Lightning From The Summit
Uncle Iroh tells me that pride is not the opposite of shame,
true humility is. My life has been nothing but humbling,
everything exploding in my face, I cannot control anything.
I ask for lightning but he does not comply, tells me it’s too
dangerous. I need to be dangerous. Why am I being held;
treated like a delicate candle? I will burn your house down.
I cannot bend lightning but I will make it bow to me. You
know what? Nothing can make me bow, so how about it?
I climb to the top of the mountain in the middle of a
storm and demand my prize. Gift me a bolt! Let the cold
fire blaze through my body, a frozen strike that cracks open
anything it touches. I yell, I shout, I rage. How about it?
And nothing. Again, I am humbled and there is nothing
except myself, empty and howling into the place where
the thunder should be. The rumble is inside me. There
is an electricity coursing through that I cannot wield.
I don’t know how, I’m not sure, but I must be to blame.
Cracking. Breaking. And I cry. And I cry. At the very peak.
And I cry.
How did I get here?
Alex Dang is an internationally performing poet, TEDx speaker, and slam poetry champion. Featured on Huffington Post, Upworthy, and Everyday Feminism, his work has been viewed on YouTube over 2 million times. Dang has performed in over 50 cities, 30 states, 6 countries, and wants to know what your favorite food is.