Instagram story viewer> @soovignettes> Posts

soovignettes

@soovignettes

177

followers

94

following

writing account for @soovincho
output of an imperfectionist:

POSTS STORIES REELS TAGGED

back in chicago

I’ve been waiting
to love a woman,
the type of loving
momma’s never gotten.

what was daddy thinking when he saw you?
waiting tables
in cold chicago?

what’d she see,
photogenic
yet camera shy —
at lake geneva?

sensie momma,
send a picture.
smile again,
like back in chicago.

laughing then,
your hair tossed with grin,
and sing those songs
you love by ABBA.

remember not
daddy’s knocks,
your head popped back,
back in chicago.

Father’s love
I need some healing,
all I’ve been feeling
since back in chicago taken in Chicago, Illinois by @soovignettes

41

13

a year ago

spoken ver. // poem 001 // by @soovignettes

13

13

9 days ago

Poem 001 //

I stand outside
Away from my made-up intelligence
Delving back into a slow reverence
Not driven by
The driving, irreverent need for revenue
Nor intellectual certainty, nor relevance
Utterly relentless beasts, these things and

For what?
To say, “I told you so.”

I told you so that
When I die, you can cremate me and
My jewelry
Give all my clothing to the next of kin
Or to some kids who long ago are no longer in Bushwick

Spread these ashes across the sea
Scatter them for me?
To return to the earth where I came from
The appeal of death, the quietness
To finally say:
I’m come from dust and thus forth
I return

Someone messaged me, asking me if I’m well
Last July, when I wrote of torn skirts and saboteurs
Another called it a cry for help
All of them, I listened to and thought of
I considered their well-meaning wishes
And felt self-conscious for a moment

It’s normal, the act of mourning
The day when what comes to pass is
All we feared coming at us
What’s left standing of me but where I left off from
On the grass, near the trees
Consider the current state of them, with their dying leaves, and the lilies
Which grow

Now out of me by @soovignettes

8

4

9 days ago

by @soovignettes

12

2

a month ago

The death of a star
What becomes of astral prophecy
The death of a man
The aliveness of divine claim against logical reasoning

Persistence amongst
The sackcloth, ashes, and rust
Our existence of dust to dust
A potter's hands which make the finest china from clay and mud

To hold a light, to hold the truth
To say something different of humanity's value
In the hands of the divine
Ceramicist

Do I choose to trust by @soovignettes

3

0

a month ago

dust and ashes make pottery to hold
precious treasure ; eternal light unfurls
sackcloth and ashes lasts only a moment
hold tight , precious one ,
to the one who was sent taken in Pachinko by @soovignettes

10

4

2 months ago

taken in MTA-86th St-4, 5, 6 Lines by @soovignettes

9

4

3 months ago

like jazz taken in Central Park, New York by @soovignettes

4

5

3 months ago

Wire Fence in Empty Lot taken in Bushwick by @soovignettes

6

4

3 months ago

Love brings, it does not take. Love waits, until the softening of my heart brings revelation of the same thing. by @soovignettes

6

1

4 months ago

psalm 22 by @soovignettes

9

6

5 months ago

There are some foods which, when consumed, yank me violently into a certain place, time, or sentiment.

Inari, a rice ball, sometimes with chopped vegetables, wrapped by fried tofu skin that’s been brushed with a sweet and savory glaze, places me on my grandma’s rug in Schaumburg, watching my brother play Mario 64 in a trance.

Kimchi jjigae, or kimchi stew, transports me to 2006, when my mother, who worked grueling overnight shifts as an RN, scraped the energy and resources to throw pork belly (cheaper even then), over-fermented kimchi, and some onions into a pot, roiling it into a boil of porky cabbage.

Or eel sushi, which brings me before my father in 2008, he a weary man and I, a young ignoramus who couldn’t forgive him.

Please enjoy a musing for you, from Soov, part two by clicking the link in my bio. taken in Buffalo Grove, Illinois by @soovignettes

1

3

6 months ago