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    • Victoria Chwa
      • Mar 22
      • 1 min read

    porcelain

    mirror mirror on the wall

    you are all the same

    who is the fairest of them all?

    a game of name and shame


    ebb and flow // ebb and flow

    i stand in a sea of bodies

    as above, so below?

    i choose not to live in pain –


    mirror mirror on the wall

    i ask myself again

    who is the favoured of them all

    and they, too, shall reign


    i ask myself, mirror dear,

    i ask myself again

    what is seen cannot be unseen

    nor said; erased –

    and when they ask, mirror dear,

    i shall say again

    if you see light and a clear blue sky

    does not mean it’s all the same

    • Poetry
    • •
    • Creative Writing
    6 views0 comments
    • Victoria Chwa
      • Jan 28
      • 1 min read

    What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but how much stronger do I have to be?

    What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,

    but how much stronger do I have to be?

    Can someone tell me the truth

    about this mystical reality


    claim that calls for help will be answered,

    that we should place trust in humanity?

    Yet the stories we hear over time and space

    are those of dissent, violence and cruelty.


    What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,

    but how much stronger do I have to be?

    To say the light of life must be found from within

    but not in its entirety


    is to say power exists where we cannot see,

    like prisoners of our own being,

    in the worldly realm of reality,

    liberation is a dream of solidarity so freeing.


    but this strength is not to be lusted for,

    sought after like rain in a drought.

    It does not come with riches,

    or black and white paper bridges


    between people torn apart by

    open wounds of the painful past.

    It is present in the vulnerability

    we try so hard to outcast.


    What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,

    and I don’t know how much stronger we need to be,

    but if ever you struggle with waking up in the morning,

    trust that the power is in you and me.

    • Poetry
    13 views0 comments
    • Victoria Chwa
      • Oct 8, 2021
      • 2 min read

    the song of the sea

    Race and class identity create differences in quality of life, social status, and lifestyle that take precedence over the common experience women share.

    bell hooks, Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center


    Written as part of a summer assignment for the MA Gender, Media and Culture course at Goldsmiths University of London 2021-2022. Inspired by the quote above.


    the king shouts from across the deck

    “take a good look, men!”

    a storm rages over the wreck

    for the honour you defend.


    three sheets to the wind!

    the men say

    in victory, we return!

    and they shall sing and they shall prance -

    o the glory we have earned.


    crack 'er open!

    the men say

    the race has just begun!

    barrels of wine with a feast to pair

    - a true celebration


    the king calls on his concubine

    "a woman like no other"

    skin that looked and felt like snow

    and a smile like the perfect summer


    day after day night after night

    the seige raged on! an unimaginable plight -

    she waits in my quarters and to her arms I return

    the comfort of a good woman


    outside the sky splits!

    like a dagger through the heart -

    a deafening growl

    then thorns rained down

    and the night now forlorn


    “there’s a crack in the hull!”

    shouts the watchman from the mast

    and then the celebration ends.

    suddenly alerted, charged the men

    against a piercing blast


    the king, leading the pack,

    rushed out into the tempest

    their vessel broke in harrowing pain

    for deluge births a deafening silence


    can you hear that?

    the deckhand asks as he approached the edge

    a song so loud and resonant

    but all who hear it is dead


    walk the plank and there you see

    women of dark energy

    come hither, come hither whispers she

    and you shall drown in anarchy


    they hear the song! they do, they see!

    sing the women in the sea

    the concubine and the deckhand jump!

    much to the dismay of the king


    one day, a storm may rage

    our vessel may break

    and leave behind a wreck


    hear the song of the sea

    the sea of people

    of people like you and me

    hear it from them

    hear their story

    honour the song of the sea


    • Poetry
    5 views0 comments
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    © 2021 by Victoria Chwa.
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