Naomi Shihab Nye’s "What’s Here" is a meditation on displacement, presence, and the quiet realization of impermanence. Through a catalog of objects and natural imagery, the poem explores the relationship between what belongs and what is merely passing through. Set against the backdrop of Honolulu, a place shaped by waves of migration and trade, the poem contemplates the idea of transience—of goods, people, and even memory. Nye juxtaposes the artificial and the organic, the foreign and the native, ultimately suggesting that one’s presence in a place is fleeting, that the world absorbs what comes but does not necessarily keep it. The poem begins with a statement of arrival:
"Idaho potatoes have made it to Honolulu."
This opening line immediately establishes the theme of movement and displacement. The phrase "have made it" implies a journey, as if these potatoes have traveled far to reach a destination where they do not naturally belong. The juxtaposition of Idaho—a landlocked, agricultural state—with Honolulu—an island city in the Pacific—creates an immediate sense of contrast. This small observation hints at a larger reality: places are constantly reshaped by what arrives, whether it is trade, migration, or foreign influence. Nye then expands on this idea with an almost overwhelming list:
"Scores of automobiles, legions of shirts, rice steamers, bicycles, / as well as unlikely accessories— / bowling pin salt- and pepper-shakers, glittering eye shadow, chocolate-covered cherries, / washed up on these shores."
The accumulation of objects here is striking. The mention of automobiles and shirts suggests the essentials of modern life, while bowling pin salt- and pepper-shakers and glittering eye shadow introduce a more whimsical, almost absurd quality. These items feel excessive, unnecessary, even surreal in their presence. By stating that they "washed up on these shores," Nye likens them to driftwood or debris, as if they have arrived not through conscious intent but as part of the ceaseless movement of global commerce and cultural exchange. Yet, despite this influx of foreign objects, nature remains indifferent:
"The leaves of Eucalyptus robusta try not to notice it. / Wild purple orchid, sleek bark of koa, stand clear."
The choice of Eucalyptus robusta is significant—though now common in Hawaii, eucalyptus trees are not native; they were introduced. In contrast, the koa tree and wild purple orchid are indigenous. This quiet contrast between the introduced and the native mirrors the broader theme of what belongs versus what simply arrives. The phrase "try not to notice it" imbues nature with consciousness, as if the trees are actively ignoring the human world. Yet, "stand clear" suggests a quiet resistance, a sense that the native world holds its ground even as foreign elements intrude. The poem then shifts into a personal reflection:
"What’s here may or may not belong here."
This line serves as a hinge, encapsulating the central tension of the poem. It acknowledges that presence does not always equal belonging. What arrives—whether objects, people, or influences—might stay, but that does not mean it becomes part of the landscape in any meaningful way. This could apply equally to the imported goods, the trees, and even the speaker herself. The speaker’s gaze then moves toward the misty valley:
"I press my extra eyes into the mist over the valley, / forgetting my small book of stamps and the ten thousand travelers eating breakfast, / guarding the word invisible, sweet breath of every tree."
The phrase "press my extra eyes" suggests an intensified way of seeing, an attempt to look deeper or beyond the surface. The "mist over the valley" conveys something ephemeral, ever-shifting, reinforcing the idea of impermanence. The mention of a "small book of stamps" hints at transience and movement—stamps are symbols of letters, of communication across distances, of departure. That the speaker forgets them suggests a moment of detachment from the world of human transactions. Meanwhile, the reference to "ten thousand travelers eating breakfast" highlights the transient nature of tourism—thousands of people come and go, experiencing a place temporarily before moving on. The final lines are both wistful and detached:
"I ride the waves of vowels, saying in my own flat language, / I'll go soon. And, don't remember me."
The "waves of vowels" might reference the Hawaiian language, with its flowing, open sounds, in contrast to the speaker’s "flat language," which could refer to English or simply her own way of speaking. The contrast reinforces the idea of being an outsider, someone passing through rather than belonging. The declaration "I'll go soon." suggests an acceptance of impermanence, an awareness that the speaker is just another traveler. The final phrase, "And, don't remember me," is particularly striking. It resists nostalgia or the desire for permanence, embracing the idea of leaving without leaving a mark. "What’s Here" is a meditation on presence, impermanence, and the layers of history that accumulate in a place. Nye contrasts the foreign with the native, the artificial with the organic, the fleeting with the enduring. Through lists, sensory details, and quiet introspection, the poem suggests that while people and objects come and go, the natural world remains, sometimes indifferent, sometimes resisting. In the end, the speaker aligns herself with transience, acknowledging that she, too, will leave, and that her presence need not be remembered. The poem ultimately invites the reader to consider what it means to belong and whether anything—objects, people, or even memory—can ever truly stay.
Copyright (c) 2025 PoetryExplorer
|
Other Poems of Interest...
|
|
