Poem: Homesick

People don’t often talk about reverse culture shock. But it’s been on my mind for the past several months. Since moving back to the United States from Europe, I’m still learning how to readjust. If I’m completely honest, my first impression of coming back was mostly negative for various reasons.

First off, many of the buildings in the US are just plain ugly, especially compared to the Bavarian-style structures I’m used to seeing everyday. Sorry, not sorry, America.

Then there’s the over friendliness. If I’m going out grocery shopping, people want to talk to me for some reason. I just want my apples, so please, please leave me alone. One stranger even tried to offer me a job when I just wanted to go through the checkout line, and I actually enjoy my current job, thank you very much. (Leave me alone!) I miss the blunt, honest fashion in Germany where people mind their own business.

I am learning to adjust though. I like my house, and I’m super excited that I can do whatever I want to the garden come spring! It’s a huge garden. And did I mention my job is awesome? The other day, I had a kid fold me a little paper crane, and it was the sweetest thing.

Enjoy my poems from 2019? Be sure to vote for your favorites here or comment below! Categories include your favorite, best imagery, and most heartfelt.

Update (14 Jan. 2020): Vote for my poem "When I was Little" on Little Infinite.

Homesick

Is it possible to get homesick

for a place I’ve never been?

To hear the hollow echo in the pit of my heart

as the revelation settles in,

covering my arteries like a coating of dust

speck by speck

—this realization that I’ve never truly belonged.

I miss the way the forests reclaimed the city,

and even though there was still smog,

I could bike to work through the woods.

I don’t like how now I look out the window

in this sticky refrigerated restaurant

and see a boxy convenient store, a cemetery, a street.

Is this what they call a view?

I laid in the grass beneath the blanket of sunshine

to escape the throngs of people

yet a lady still found me,

and asked me how I was.

Why are the people so nice here?

What do they want from me?

Ask me where I’m from one more time,

and I just might tell you—

I don’t know.

I don’t know anymore.

***

Let’s chat! What did you think of the poem? Have you ever experienced culture shock or reverse culture shock? What was your favorite poem of mine from 2019?

Similar poems: Origins (Audio); Haiku Collection: Down South (Audio); and Thoughts of Place (Audio)

Poem: Romantic (Video)

If you haven’t already guessed—from the globe of London in my cover photo to my poems and posts about various places—I like to travel. There are many things, though, that they don’t tell you about in all the pretty little brochures. Culture shock. Jet lag. The disillusionment of place. Just to name a few.

I’m not saying that people shouldn’t travel. I’m just saying that every time I go someplace new, it’s never quite what I expect, in good ways and bad. I didn’t expect Germany to have so many immigrants. I didn’t expect Italy to look so dumpy. Then again, I didn’t expect to enjoy visiting the German bakeries every morning any more than I expected to start drinking cappuccinos in Italy.

Travel changes people. It teaches us about the world and our own cultures and selves. Despite Italy’s run-down nature, it is one of the most recycle-enthusiast countries I’ve visited. Because Germans’ often stoic behavior and brutally-honest words, I have learned to appreciate honesty even more.

The following poem contains just a few of my thoughts on Venice. You may recognize glimpses of the city in a previous poem, “Shadows”.

Romantic

People romanticize the canals

and arching bridges of Venice,

but have you ever gotten yourself lost

in the sticky, humid heat

down an alley that stinks of urine?

Don’t get me wrong,

I enjoy the way I stumbled

across a bookstore with volume

after volume laid out in rows

within a bathtub, within a boat

for when the city floods.

I relished watching the glassblower

tug at the liquid fire and mold it

and pull until he set a little red horse, solid,

on the table.

But try finding a place to park

outside the city inside a garage

where your car is no longer a car

but a sardine packed among sardines.

I would rather take the train

and not have to worry about driving

with these maniacs who don’t signal—

I would rather be told to stand

at the wrong platform—

then rush back

down the tunnel, up to the right platform

and board a train with cracked windows

and humid air. Pounding hearts. Less stress.

Is it worth it all?

Taking the time to travel

to walk the trash-lined streets,

sail under the Bridge of Sighs

taste the bread topped with olive oil and rosemary

smell the salt of the Mediterranean,

feel the cool water lap at my feet

as we escaped the throngs of people and pigeons.

The towers are crooked here,

but even in leaning, there are blue skies.

***

Let’s chat! What are your thoughts on travel? What’s the last journey you took? What did you think of the poem?

Similar poems: Thoughts of Place (Audio), Still Life in Spring (Audio), and Shadows

Poem: In Season

In the 21-century, most of us live in a world where we are privileged in one way or another. A couple weekends ago, I went on a ski trip with my dad and marveled at how much fruit there was for breakfast in the middle of the winter. I was also in the middle of reading Inkdeath, which takes place in the Inkworld during winter. So the book prompted me to compare my circumstances with those of the characters. The differences between our century and those of the middle ages is astounding.

Of course, I read medieval fiction and fantasy stories all the time, so you would think I would have thought of these things already. But there’s just so much to take in. I wondered, how much of our present technology is really necessary? And what is privilege really?

This poem is just an exploration of technology and privilege and how it differs from country to country.

In Season

Apples are always in season

in this, the first world,

where we know everything.

Crank up the thermostat,

and you can feel the heat soaking into your skin

like the summer sun, harnessed with a metal bit;

or turn up the AC, and relish the nip of winter,

like an albino housecat ready to sprint

at the crack of the door.

Raspberries are only always in season

if you’re willing to ship them across the globe,

like little red slaves to sate our appetite for fruit

in a world where we think we know everything.

But some slip on a sweater,

and northerners laugh at your shivers

while they stride about the snow in shorts;

and Europe—sweet Europe—laughs at the thought of AC,

for summer, like a fickle butterfly flirting with one flower then the next,

only sticks around for two weeks.

***

Similar Posts: Weird Winter Weather and Some Notes on the Three Days of Summer

What are some of the privileges you take advantage of? If you've ever traveled to another country, what are some of the major differences you've noticed, aside from language? 

The Movie Was Better Than the Book

Many people may recall how I tend to rant about movies and the superiority of books. In fact, many of my friends claim I don’t even like movies. This is true to an extent. There are exceptions. Sometimes, the movie is better than the book.

Now before you condemn me for heresy, please allow me to propose a couple questions. Do quality movies exist?  And do poorly written books exist? If you answered yes to either of these questions, might it be possible that these two coincide?

In my experience, there are three general reasons why some movies may be better than their books, and they may overlap in some circumstances.

1) The movie was better researched than the book.

You don’t usually see these kinds of books, but they exist. In these cases, the book falls short of enriching details whereas the movie fills them in. And I’m not just talking about setting. A well-researched story should include culture, setting, time period, and character development just to name a few aspects. Sometimes movies include cultural aspects or languages that the books skims over.

A great example is Dances with Wolves. I enjoyed the movie for the development of the Sioux culture and language, not to mention the music, but when I read the book, I was disappointed. The Indian language was mentioned, but none of the words were included like in the film. Likewise, the characters had more depth in the movie than the book. Though this may seem unusual, this was the case.

2) Writing was not the author’s main talent.

As a reading challenge from a friend, I read Collision Course by William Shatner. Despite being a Star Trek fan, I had no idea who the author was until halfway through the book. (This is because I know more character names than those of actual people.) Ultimately, the name of the author had no impact on my low rating for the book.

Some people make good writers. Others don’t. And sometimes people who are better at something else, end up writing poor books. Just because a person can write a book, doesn’t mean he/she should. It takes more than a big name to make a book successful. Often times, writing is 99% dedication and 1% talent. Dedication gets the work done, but talent makes it effective. Some authors’ talents lie elsewhere instead of with writing.

3) The book was based off the movie.

Basically, I’m not a big fan of fan-fiction. I’m a firm believer in the original writers getting the credit for their fictional worlds because they came up with the ideas. The main reason that some fan-fiction falls short is because readers cannot draw from the same experiences that the writer has already drawn from.

This is not to say that fan-fiction is completely worthless. Writing fan-fiction may be a fun writing prompt activity. Some writes may even manage to capture a character’s essence and an author’s style. But this is rare. Besides, there are plenty of books I wish people would write a based on movies and shows, such as Ladyhawke or Leverage, but that’s another story.

So, though many readers may discount the value of film in appraise of the written word, there are some cases, rarities, that a movie might actually be better than the book. Ultimately, neither books nor movies can be a perfect form of culture, and audiences may prefer one over the other. But if readers are going to claim to be avid, it’s important for them to tell the difference between a good book and a poor one.

Are there any book-to-movie adaptations where you considered the movie to be better? Why/why not?

Literary references: Michael Blake’s Dances with Wolves, William Shatner’s Collision Course.

Movie references: Dances with Wolves, Ladyhawke, Leverage, and Star Trek.