Why I Hate Poetry but Love Li-Young Lee

Whenever I think of poetry, I imagine a person sitting at a small table in the candlelight, thinking, "Now is the time for me to be all emo and write about my feelings, blah blah blah."  Don't get me wrong, I love modern poetry and sarcastic poetry, and I have a dream of becoming a rapper during my years in university, but I am honestly unable to sit down and enjoy reading a compilation of poems.  This being said, I wanted to focus on a poet that I knew very little about, so that I would have to preconceptions prior to reading his work.  Li-Young Lee has, surprisingly enough, stolen my heart.  I never imagined that I could read a poem about eating dinner or making a bed, and enjoy it.  Aqua Man must have drowned, because even I didn't expect this.

The first piece that I came across, was "From Blossoms," a little diddy that Lee wrote in response to peach blossoms.  Obviously there is more meaning to this poem--something that I will cover during a later entry--but it had a strange, cosmic affect on me.  It was simple, philosophic, and reminded me of my Asian homeland--all things that I complete adore.  After my reading of "From Blossoms," I sat at my computer and contemplated the meaning of life.  Once I realized that my contemplation just left me with more questions, I dove back into Lee's work.  I read a few more of his poems, and decided that I must drive to the library and grab a few of his compilations.  I ended up borrowing the lot, running back to my house and locking myself in my room.  I read his autobiographical work, Winged Seed: A Remembrance, and felt immensely closer with Lee as a person.  He bears his soul for the world to see, and that is why I am in love with him.  He is the bravest man that I have even encountered. 

After getting an understanding of Lee, I began to read his poetry.  I believe that I enjoy his poetry, in comparison to other works that discuss feelings and things that I personally do not care about, because I became aware of his life.  Every experience had affected him in such a way, that he was capable of recounting it through the written word.  He found solace in an art form, which I find to be beautiful.

In summation, I genuinely enjoyed getting to know Li-Young Lee.  There were no secrets or uncertainties in his works.  They are taken as what they are--beautiful accounts of life. 

From Blossoms

From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

- Li-Young Lee