Poem organized by Emily Sim
Art by Geli Chan
VOICES is an interactive poem that collects the individual artistic voices of the QTPOC community; each stanza is written by a different member. This VOICES poem, with 26 participants, was held November 7th, 2019 at the QT Slam Poetry event, an open-mic event event featuring both community favorite poems and original spoken-word poetry.
The QT Poetry Slam event was organized by UC Berkeley’s Queer Alliance Resource Center (QARC). QARC empowers the LGBTQIA+ community and supports over 15 QT campus organizations. We would like to specially thank programming director Kaelyn Schlegel, who graciously supported GIA MAG in hosting our VOICES poem at the event. You can contact Kaelyn Schlegel at programming@ucbqarc.org for more information on programming with QARC.
who I am
who are you to know?
I am soft,
I am chingona, a genderfucker, a fluid chicanx
I am resilient, I am chillona
I am filled with emotions
I hold so much love
I am (in)voluntarily (as) vulnerable (as you want me to be).
I am an enigma of frozen peas and seas in eyes of brown seeds with green leaves
I am okay. How are you today? Who are you today? Are you okay?
Funny of you to ask, I’m feeling great— But what does okay mean?
Who am I to say if I am really okay, when I am constantly changing.
Changing.
Who am I to say if I am really okay, when I can’t shower without the warmth bringing back my tears
Okay is another day, okay is what I’ll be tomorrow, not today.
I am soft, stumbling
I am queer,
I am me, myself, and I. One in 3 & 3 in one, yet none at all.
I am here, sweet and nice, gone in society, but still here
I am comfortable in my confusion, exhalted in the unknown
I have never been more myself than I am tonight. I never will be again, and that’s okay.
IN YOUR ARMS, YOU’LL FIND ME.
I am a figment of my consciousness, homeless, moving nomadically
between the spaces I exist in because it’s impossible for me
to have my own beliefs.
I am tired of having to live up to other’s expectations. I am losing
part of my culture while in Berkeley. They didn’t just colonize my
country, but also my mind. The same of being brown, being the other.
I am tender & sweet & lost
I am everything and nothing
I am and I am lost
I am gay.
