The Poetry of Xiaoly Li

Read More: A brief Q&A with Xiaoly Li

Our Innocence Rosy as Fiery Clouds Burned to Bare Boughs

My childhood, clean skies, molded from
one blueprint, tinted aqua. Freedom
in mazed branches without going to classrooms—

we went to farms to harvest wheat with a sickle, to factories
to drill holes of parts, to hospitals to acupuncture
our own legs, to shops to learn how

to wrap candy fashionably.
We bowed, took oath each morning facing His Portrait,
repented flashes of selfish thoughts in evenings.

We greeted each other with quotations from
the Highest.
Our lives, perfectly mirrored.

Yet

there were wild geese escaping, defying
illumination,
up & away—their own trajectory…

Xiaochun read the underground novel
Second Handshake; Dandan—refused to plead guilty
when his father was deemed a counterrevolutionary.

Now Xinran—flames into her life taking a less travelled path. Can I say, dear,
go fly
to the end of the sky?

There was and is an
outlandish crack opening—every
single bird rising.

 

Bucket of Belief

A bucket on one end of a shoulder pole—
I sway, plunge it to scoop water
from a deep well. It slumps—my reeducation
in a village in my teen years.

Winter turns amok. Leveling hilly land
to make rice fields, I free a red wheelbarrow
from mud again. We quench thirst from
bucket water where light waves in, spirals out—

it keeps us toiling. When leeches suck
my legs as I bend over, my left hand holds
a rice sprouting pad, right hand divides
a ramet, plugs it into the chilly water. 

It is said that President Nixon dined
on this rice. A girl can’t finish her quota,
cries. We help her until moon watches,
bucket water freezes. I jump […]


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Midsummer in the Bahamas  

Mother & I row a small boat
through its glass bottom
a forest of seaweed seeks
our eyes & a school of Rock-Beauty
& Angle-Fish draw us beyond the
calm crescent of the Coral Reef
each stroke of paddle is matched
the vicious reversal of waves
surprises us away from shore
gelid ocean trembles my teeth
Mama says raise the oars high
we pitch in the empty sight
only the lonely funnel top
of a ship against the horizon
our every movement opposes us
still with hands above our heads
exhausted fear-frenzy surrenders
every moment the second to the last
& nothingness creeps in
& I sing along the seaside-sunset shine
don’t ask where I am from
I wander far for the dream of
Dove Tree


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Xiaoly Li is a poet, photographer and computer engineer who lives in Massachusetts. Her poetry is forthcoming or has recently appeared in Spillway, American Journal of Poetry, PANK, Atlanta Review, Chautauqua, Rhino, Cold Mountain Review, J Journal and elsewhere; and in several anthologies. Xiaoly is a 2022 recipient of Massachusetts Cultural Council Artist Fellowship Grant in Poetry. She received her Ph.D. in electrical engineering from Worcester Polytechnic Institute and Masters in computer science and engineering from Tsinghua University in China.

Read More: A brief Q&A with Xiaoly Li