Shirley Geok-lin Lim, a Melaka-born poet, writer and professor based in the United States, shares her thoughts on what she calls “anglophone” poetry. She left Malaysia to pursue her PhD in the United States in 1969.

Locally based poet and writer Malachi Edwin Vethamani, meanwhile, has tirelessly advocated for local English-language poetry over the last decade.

Here are their thoughts.

FMT Lifestyle: What is Malaysian English poetry to you?

Lim: I would call it Malaysian anglophone poetry because the word “English” reminds us of England, while “anglophone” refers to an enormous swath of speakers. It is a tradition of writing that began at the turn of the 20th century in Penang. Penangnites were writing poems for the little journals that were coming out.

Edwin: At one time, we feared the English language would die out in Malaysia because of various language policies. Yet what we have seen over the past few years is the emergence of Malaysian writing in English.

We have a very vibrant young population. Yet, sadly, we do not get the kind of support that Singaporeans English writers get.

Lim: In the 21st century, you don’t even need state money. Social media is available to anyone with creativity. You can create a YouTube account and put up a mash-up of poems, and people all around the world would click on it and say: “Oh, they are Malaysians but they speak a unique form of English. They call it Manglish? Because it’s like English but mangled, right? But it’s mangled in such a funny, wonderful way.”

What are the biggest challenges and joys of writing poetry?

Lim: I wouldn’t use the word joy; it is an act of self-making. The writer has all this creativity that has to come out in some way. Otherwise, he or she is in anguish.

For young people in Malaysia, some of the challenges are political, while some are communal. Those who want to write often have parents who tell them they will never be able to make a living out of it.

Edwin: I know we don’t write to be published, but a writer needs readers. So when my work began to be published, I appreciated the fact that there were avenues for me because poetry doesn’t sell.

I think that is the challenge we face. And yes, there’s maybe some joy in seeing my work being critiqued, which encourages me to continue writing.

Do you consider yourselves as writers of ‘Malaysian poetry’?

Lim: I do. Look at my new anthology “Dawns Tomorrow” – the very first poem “Before and After Leaving” is dedicated to Melaka. This is my 12th poetry collection, my American collection, and yet the first poem is dedicated to Melaka.

So I am a Malaysian poet, because you can take the girl out of Malaysia but you can’t take Malaysia out of the girl.

Edwin: I certainly consider myself a Malaysian poet. I draw a lot from my ethnic Indian background for my poems, they have a Tamil connection that is present in Malaysia.

At the same time, I also have a multicultural link. In my latest collection called “Rambutan Kisses”, the first line is “tapau for me your rambutan kisses”. The minute you see words like “tapau” and “rambutan”, you can’t get more Malaysian than that.

Why did you decide to leave or stay in Malaysia?

Edwin: I never thought about leaving. I have always been comfortable in my space. I grew up in Brickfields and I went abroad to do my PhD but I never actually considered leaving Malaysia.

Although I worked in a public university, I’ve been to various overseas events without having to leave (permanently) because I either created the opportunities or they came my way. So I’m very happy here.

Lim: Unlike Edwin, it was easier for me to leave Malaysia because I grew up in Melaka, which was always a crossroads. We had waves of westerners coming by and leaving behind not traces, but real monuments.

So Melaka is deeply home for me but, at the same time, it made it easy for me to leave Malaysia.

The theme of this year’s World Poetry Day is ‘Standing on the Shoulders of Giants’. Who are the great figures in Malaysian poetry? What do you hope to see from the next generations?

Edwin: I think of Shirley, Wong Phui Nam, Ee Tian Hong and, slightly later, people like Salleh Ben Joned and Cecil Rajendra. They were the groundbreakers, and it’s important to acknowledge that although we do not have a very long tradition, we have these Malaysian writers.

Lim: When I say I’m standing on the shoulders of giants, I’m thinking of someone like Wisława Szymborska, the Polish woman who defied Stalin and just wrote wonderful, beautiful poems.

Someone I think could be a model for Malaysian writers, who is completely national and also completely global, is Seamus Heaney: completely Irish and yet, what a writer, what a mind.

For me, their imaginations are enormously brutal, rich and very political. They’re not all about the beauty of trees or “here’s a wonderful girl or boy I fell in love with”.

Edwin: I’m seeing how younger writers are drawing from their multicultural heritages. People are beginning to see themselves as Malaysian and they recognise their roots.

What I want to see in Malaysian poetry in English is that when you read it, you can immediately recognise both the language and the cultural baggage in the writing. The whole rojak-ness of our culture should be celebrated.