"To My Asian Brothers" by Pat Sumi // LA Asian American Poetry

From 1969 to 1974, a group of Asian American activists in Los Angeles published a monthly newsprint journal, Gidra. I came across the following poem by Pat Sumi in my reading in Asian Americans: The Movement and the Moment:

To My Asian Brothers

Clarity of vision            
           of perception            
           is a color not possible            
           in Los Angeles 
To the far horizons                  
                the city slumbers                              
                smoulders                             
                in its brown chemistry                              
                of Babylonian chains
Chains             
           bind my feet                     
                  my eyes             
           as I stumble along the yellow mosaic 
Carefully, I search for the missing pieces 
There...             
            a glittering piece             
            a sparkle of discovery 
My family sword is found             
              to strike my chains of sorrow 
But the chains merely part                                           
                                       then re-form 
In despair             
               I stumble
Brother!             
             Now I see you so near             
             You give me strength to rise again 
But why are you so still                           
                          so stoic                                        
                                     brother?
Chains of Babylon             
               bind us together             
               but we do not touch 
With this sword             
              I would free you 
But where are your chains?                
                They are not like mine 
In your eyes             
            I see your spirit             
            bound by chains                         
                       by burdens                       
                       by weight                      
                       by heart                                   
                                   so heavy             
             the sword cannot free you                                                   
                                                     yet 
As you stand so still            
            your eyes                          
                          steadily mirror                          
                          a painful past 
Do you see                 
                  grandfather    back bent                 
                  worked to the ground? 
Do you see                 
                  father        barb bound                 
                  concentration sent? 
Do you see                 
                 brother       Asian death                 
                 Vietnam sent? 
Do you see                 
                 the unshed tears                 
                 the unavenged humiliation?
Do you see                 
                 as you stand so still                                    
                                     so stoic?
To be a man
               to be free
               to love
               to walk proud
               in a clear night
                                     to be a gentle lover
                                     to a home
               is a life not possible
               in Los Angeles
But history is not defeat
                          weakness
                          sorrow
The back is bent           but unbroken
The spirit is bound        but unbroken
And you, brother,
               are chained   but unbroken
Strength is will
             is spirit
             is soul
             is love
             is unity
As we speak
             the world has turned
             a revolution
             a great victory in the East
Clarity of vision
           of perception
           is a color possible
           by a new light
           by a new day dawning
The burdens of grandfather
                        father
                        brother
            become light by this new day
The sword glitters and sparkles
                                   with piercing red fire
                                                             smokeless
                                                             pure
                 to shatter the chains
Yes!
           We are free!
Yes!
           You are free
                             to be a man
Chains
          are to be thrown away
          so we walk freely
Eyes
        are to be free
              to see us and the world
              in the light of a new day dawning
Brother!
             Come join hands with me
             we have been separated too long
A home of revolution
             of love
             for us is possible
             in Los Angeles 

--Pat Sumi, 1970

I've heard that the original Gidra was put together in a sort of co-op house somewhere in South Los Angeles. It was a political journal that was sometimes an inch thick. Inspiring.

Amor Fati; Los Angeles Lit Begins

As I was skimming over Craigslist for writing jobs in Los Angeles, I came across an ad for a new literary magazine seeking submissions, Amor Fati Literary Magazine. Its inaugural issue is set to print on Valentine's Day this year, and the deadline for submissions is February 1.

The theme is "POLYAMORY". Take it as you will.

Formats include ANYTHING PRINTABLE, such as short stories, poetry, prose, essays, philosophies, letters, one-acts, scripts, flash fiction, lyrics, recipes, photography, visual art, trickery, what-have-you, new or old.

This excites me.

AMOR FATI is a quarterly digest featuring the works of Los Angeles writers, artists and creatives.

In a city of disparate parts, our aim is to create an active platform for organic and challenging exchange that is not only reflective of this generation but brings a collective voice to an anomalous city.

AMOR FATI. The Love of Fate. Tell your story.

It's fascinating to think about the literary legacy in this city-- I don't think most people think of books when they think of LA, they think of television and movies. They think of Hollywood.

But there are also those who know about Charles Bukowski and his time in LA, those who know that he spent a lot of time on 5th & Main, the intersection called the "Nickel" where that cool diner is.

In 2009, Councilmember Jan Perry submitted a proposal to name the intersection of 5th & Grand "John Fante Square" after the author whose book Ask The Dust inspired Bukowski.

Bukowski's and Fante's writing inspired the two founders of The Writers Workshop, which I joined back in May 2008 and never looked back.

One of the books that gave me a revelatory experience was Southland, which took place in Los Angeles and was written by Nina Revoyr, who currently lives here.

When I was in Paris, it was Wait Until Spring, Bandini by John Fante that I picked up at Shakespeare & Company. I admit I had some romantic fantasies about the Lost Generation and expatriotism and following in Hemingway's footstops while I was there, but I just couldn't stop thinking about Los Angeles.

There is so much going on in this city. As a hungry young writer, it would do me good to pay attention to the literary scene here, something I've hardly done in the two-years I've been here.

To facilitate this, I'm going to start a series of posts called "Los Angeles Lit," in which I'm going to document literary experiences, events, publications this city has to offer.

Thanks, Amor Fati, for being the starting point.