Why I Write Poetry

Someone asked me today,

"Why do you write poetry?"

Without even thinking, I responded,

"Why do you breathe?"

"Because if I didn't, I would die."

"Exactly."

To Know the Name of Things

I wanted to find a way to describe the weekly open-air market in E-dong, but the only words that came to me were in the form of a poem.

To Know the Name of Things

“Sam-ch'on won,” the fairy whispers,

as she hands me 3lbs of orangeripe,

to-ma-tos: Three dollars.

Tomatos are one of the few bits of produce

that I can actually identify, and name

in this bazaar of the bizarre.

The Korean market in my city,

is something akin to

Shakespeare’s Fairyland.

Everywhere there is color, smell, taste:

magenta, incense, butterscotch.

And the little women carry laced parasols

to block out the sun.

There are baskets pregnant with fruit,

and tarps draped over candy stands,

that undulate with the seabreeze.

I raise my arms up and down, merrily,

in concordance with the tarp, and the

trill of the market.

The Koreans stop, and smile;

confused, bemused grins,

as their deep brown eyes disappear.

One young man looks up as he’s cutting rope,

and glances at me-

But something startles him,

and he quickly takes a second look.

It is my eyes that have captured his attention:

Blue, and so out of place

amidst these dark-eyed

spirits.

But still it is bothering me that I

do not know the name

for the cocoa rock candy, that the vendor

lovingly sets in my hand,

“Try, try…” he urges.

And I cannot identify the luscious

plants and flowers for sale;

their spikes, blooms, and vines,

are as foreign to me

as I am to this place.

“Try, try…”, the Fairy King smirks,

with his round, tan face glowing.

I know that, contained within this sweet,

is a potion that will make me

fall in love with this place-

Make me want to stay forever,

and never wake up.

I slip the candy into my mouth,

and roll it on my tongue as I breathe,

“Nay, Nay…mmmm.”

Yes, yes…delicious.

And in that instant,

though I do not know what it is called,

I have tasted its very Name on my lips,

leaving no need for me to utter it here.

The Fairy King’s eye’s light with delight,

and he gives a courtly bow,

as the candy slips me further

into my unnamable dreamland.

Letting Go

"To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and when the time comes to let it go, let it go.”

- Poet Mary Oliver

Letting go is a concept that I have been researching and practicing for several years now. It is not a habit that comes naturally to humans; we tend to hold on and cry “never surrender!” to the most lost of lost causes. We hold on to all sorts of things: memories, bad relationships, comfortable jobs that no longer challenge our intellect. Culturally, American’s have an obsession with holding on to their youth; we buy skin care products and undergo plastic surgery to make ourselves appear younger. We shut away the elderly and infirm in nursing homes, so that we don’t have to be reminded that one day we, too, will die: That one day, we will be forced to let go of our vitality-of our very breath.

We humans are terrified to let go: to let go of love, beauty, and, at times, we even refuse to let go of resentment or pain. We hold on for dear life because all of these fleeting emotions, all of these very “mortal” things, somehow make us feel more comfortable and more alive. But what I am discovering, after years of college, boyfriends, good jobs, bad jobs, pets, best friends, grandparents, new countries, and drinking buddies is that, eventually, you must let EVERYTHING go. Your friends will move away, your drinking buddies will find a new bar, your grandparents will die, your beauty will fade, perhaps even your country’s system of government will collapse or your boyfriend will leave you.

Everything changes.

And, as the quote suggests, you must love all passionately and let all go when time and fate take it from you.

As I write this, I am reminded of my best friend Lauren. She has a fat and happy pugdog named Joey. For God-only-knows what reason she loves him as if he were her own child, and cannot conceive of one day being without him. When we were still roommates, I was discussing the philosophical idea of ‘letting go’ with Lauren, and I reminded her that Joey would someday die- that she would have to let HIM go! At this harsh realization, she became very distraught and refused to accept such a prospect. Then, after giving the idea some consideration, she determined that either she would have to die with Joey, or the obese pug would have to defy nature and live until his owner bit the dust. At this, I threw my head back and laughed. She was utterly unwilling to accept that death would one day take from her something that she loves.

And understandably so.

We don’t want to think about letting go of what we love; we don’t want to consider that it is even a possibility. But, I assure you, that it is not only a possibility, it is a certainty; at some point, you will have to say good-bye and let go of everything that you hold dear.

And what is the remedy to this seemingly somber and formidable fact?

To live and love now.

Right now.

And to let go of anything that stands in the way of doing so.