This next poem is actually, I think, the only poem
I've ever written which has some, I would say,
some undertones or overtones of why I do write poetry.
Because many people keep asking writers and poets,
why do you write poems?
And so in this poem, actually, I do it just
to keep myself going in reality.
So I just want to not to run away from reality.
To live with it.
And, so, I name it, and I keep it.
Don't forget that in the biblical paradise
Eden, the first act of poetry, which was done by Adam and Eve,
was to call names to all the animals and plants, which
is actually the first act of real poetry--
so to call things as they are.
And why do I say this with so much reluctance
that I have written a poem about my creed or about my belief?
Why I do write poetry?
Because, personally, I do not like a poems, even
by poets who I love very much, when
they start writing about their craft and their art of poetry
because I think a poem should be--
and he can tell about his craft and why he does it
and how he does it, but let him write it or tell journalists
or something.
But I think a poet should not say that because it's like--
I'm always disappointed because it's
like, if you go to a restaurant and you order some dish
and then the chef comes out of the kitchen
and instead of bringing you the dish,
he tells you the ingredients.
And, so, I think artists and writers really make things.
They can be critical and can, afterwards,
have certain thoughts on their own craft but not in a poem.
But this one is something nearing that.
"When my head got banged on the door, I screamed-- my head!
My head!
And I screamed, Door!
Door!
And I did not scream mother and not God,
nor did I speak of the vision of the end of days of a world
where there will be no heads and doors anymore.
When you stroked my head, I whispered, my head, my head.
And I whispered your hand, your hand.
And I did not whisper, mother, and not God.
And I did not see wonderful visions of hands stroking heads
in the wide opening heavens.
Whatever I scream and speak and whisper is to comfort myself--
my head, my head, door, door, your hand, your hand.