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Major
Hi, it's Major. The slowdown is on a break right now, but we'll be back soon with a new host. In the meantime, we're bringing you some of the best episodes from our archives. Today we revisit an episode from Tracy K. Smith's time at the helm. Enjoy.
Tracy K. Smith
I'm Tracy K. Smith, and this is the Slowdown. One night, soon after my daughter was born, I spent the evening watching her react to an empty corner of the room. I'd hold her and she'd careen around to face the spot, smiling and laughing, as though someone standing there was trying to entertain her. I carried her across the room, but still her attention veered in that direction. I held her in my arms and faced the other way. No matter what if it's my parents there? I wondered. Or what if it's a stranger's ghost? She was happy, giddy, but I quaked in fear. I went so far as to call her father and ask him to come straight home. What's wrong? He asked. Something's here, I told him. Naomi is laughing and smiling at some kind of a ghost. He wasn't convinced. My friend Rose once told me this story. Her young niece, born after Rose's mother had died, would sometimes point to her grandmother's face in photos. This is the lady who told me to pray, she once remarked. At the end of my mother's life, my infant niece would sometimes look at her with a certain discomforting poise. The the intensity of her focus, the depth of her gaze. It was as if she understood that soon my mother would be returning to the place from which she herself had just come. I think back to that night alone with Naomi and what I feared might have been some kind of strange ghost. Or perhaps truer, what I sensed might have been the presence of my parents. Confronted by what I longed for, I feared it was somehow terrifying to accept proof of what I'd long wished might be true, that we live at the edge of some kind of portal, where the people we descend from might occasionally appear, bearing kindness and love. Today's poem is Kissing the Opelu by Donovan Cujillo Koleps. It speaks to me of ancestry, tradition, and the fluidity of perception. We are who we are, the poem suggests to me, because of what we inherit from the people we love. Why does it have me thinking about ghosts and visitations? Maybe because I've decided that the people I love are always with me in one form or another. Kissing the Opelu by Donovan Kuhillo Koleps for my grandmother I am water only because you are the ocean we are here only because old leaves have been falling A mulching of memories folding into buried hands the cliffs we learn edge, the tree trunk hollowed, humming I am a tongue only because you are the body planting stories with thumb Soil crumbs cling to your knees Small stacks of empty clay pots dreaming I am an air plant suspended only because you are the trunk I cling to I am the milky fish eye only because it's your favorite Even the sound you make when your lips kiss the opelu socket is a molelo A slipper is lost in the yard A hakule is chilling in the icebox I am a cup for feathers only because you want to fill the hours I am a turning wrist only because you left the hose on Heliconias are singing Underwater beetles are floating across the yard. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. This project is supported in part by the National Endowment for the Arts on the web@arts.gov.
Micah
Hi everyone, it's Micah, lead producer of the Slowdown. I want to take a minute to talk to you about public media. You may have heard about federal budget cuts and other threats to public media, but what you might not know is that the Slowdown is actually part of the public media ecosystem. If you want to protect your favorite public media podcasts like this one, Visit americanpublicmedia.org Action to learn how you can help.
Podcast Summary: The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily
Episode: [Encore] 389: Kissing the Opelu by Donovan Kūhiō
Release Date: May 15, 2025
In this special encore episode of The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily, host Major Jackson announces a temporary break in the show's regular schedule. To bridge this hiatus, the episode features a poignant installment from a previous era of the podcast, hosted by the esteemed Poet Laureate Tracy K. Smith. This episode delves into personal reflections intertwined with the evocative poem "Kissing the Opelu" by Donovan Kūhiō, exploring themes of ancestry, memory, and the enduring presence of loved ones.
[00:46] Major Jackson
Major begins by informing listeners of the temporary break and introduces Tracy K. Smith's episode as a cherished addition to the archives. This sets the stage for a deeply personal and introspective session.
[01:11] Tracy K. Smith
Tracy opens with a heartfelt narrative that immediately connects listeners to her intimate experiences. She recounts a night spent with her newborn daughter, Naomi, observing her daughter's fascination with an empty corner of the room:
"One night, soon after my daughter was born, I spent the evening watching her react to an empty corner of the room. I'd hold her and she'd careen around to face the spot, smiling and laughing, as though someone standing there was trying to entertain her."
([01:20])
This moment evokes a blend of joy and apprehension for Tracy, highlighting the mysterious ways children perceive the world around them.
Tracy delves deeper into her reflections, sharing her fears and contemplations about unseen presences:
"I think back to that night alone with Naomi and what I feared might have been some kind of strange ghost. Or perhaps truer, what I sensed might have been the presence of my parents."
([03:45])
She draws parallels between her daughter's innocent interactions and her own experiences, pondering the possibility of familial spirits or ancestral connections manifesting in subtle ways. This contemplation leads to a broader exploration of how our ancestors influence our identities and the comforting notion that loved ones remain with us in various forms.
Tracy introduces the featured poem, "Kissing the Opelu" by Donovan Kūhiō, emphasizing its resonance with themes of heritage and the fluidity of perception:
"Today's poem is 'Kissing the Opelu' by Donovan Kūhiō Koleps. It speaks to me of ancestry, tradition, and the fluidity of perception. We are who we are, the poem suggests to me, because of what we inherit from the people we love."
([04:30])
Tracy delivers a moving rendition of Kūhiō's poem, allowing the verses to paint vivid images of interconnectedness and the subtle, enduring bonds between generations:
"I am water
only because you are the ocean
we are here
only because old leaves have been falling
A mulching of memories
folding into buried hands
the cliffs we learn edge, the tree trunk hollowed, humming
I am a tongue
only because you are the body
planting stories with thumb
Soil crumbs cling to your knees"
([04:35] – [05:10])
The poem continues to intertwine natural imagery with personal connection, creating a tapestry that reflects both individual identity and collective legacy.
Following the poem, Tracy shares her interpretations and emotional responses, deepening the listener's understanding of the work:
"Why does it have me thinking about ghosts and visitations? Maybe because I've decided that the people I love are always with me in one form or another."
([05:20])
She articulates a profound acceptance of the invisible yet palpable presence of loved ones, suggesting that our connections transcend the physical realm. This reflection enhances the poem's message, inviting listeners to contemplate their own relationships with ancestry and memory.
Tracy concludes by reaffirming the poem's significance and its personal impact on her:
"Kissing the Opelu by Donovan Kūhiō Koleps... we inherit from the people we love."
([05:45])
Her thoughtful analysis encapsulates the essence of The Slowdown—using poetry as a medium to explore and understand the nuanced facets of human experience.
While the episode features additional segments unrelated to the main content, such as a pharmaceutical advertisement and a brief message from Micah, the lead producer, these segments are secondary to the episode's core focus on poetry and reflection.
This encore episode of The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily masterfully intertwines personal narrative with poetic expression, offering listeners a deeply reflective and emotionally resonant experience. Tracy K. Smith's heartfelt storytelling, combined with Donovan Kūhiō Koleps' evocative poem, underscores the enduring connections between past and present, memory and identity. For those seeking a moment of calm, introspection, and connection through poetry, this episode stands as a testament to the show's mission of illuminating the mysteries of our shared human journey.