No One Can Ruin Mary Oliver

No one can ruin Mary Oliver. 

Not even his bluster 

demanding me to 

 

justify every feeling, 

and every moment 

of my existence 

 

can take away 

the tiniest gasp 

of her breathless love affair 

with all that is lovely 

and alive. 

 

She writes in a key 

I know how to sing along to 


and there I am 

in love 

with the world again, 

 

remembering 

this is why I keep singing. 

 

Someone once asked me 

where do I go 

when it all presses in on me. 

 

And of course, I answer, “books”, 

but that’s only half the story. 

 

The answer is

all the stories, 

any story,

every word 

 

that wakes me up to the fact 

that joy still has places 

it can take root in. 

 

And no one can

sow joy 

quite like she does. 


Photo by Drew Colins on Unsplash



Song Choice: Vivir La Vida, but especially how Maria Hinojosa is using it in this Instagram clip.


Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writing.













Toothed

If my words are toothed
they were born that way,
dreaming of howling
before they clawed out of my chest.

It may not be wise,
but it’s less painful

than seeing them
crawling beneath my skin
when I look in the mirror.

Photo by David Clode on Unsplash




Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem was created for the Friday Writings prompt at Poets and Storytellers United. "To Speak Up or Stay Quiet?"

Beyond Heaven

I was never really heaven’s favorite child.
I failed
to prove my obedience
by asking “why” and “what if”.

And heaven offers no salvation for dreamers
unless they stay cloaked with its holy hues.

All I have left to show
for my dreams are lost love’s ashes
clinging to the souls of every one of my failures,
who in turn are ground into oblivion.

I never thought anyone
would find comfort or inspiration in my stories,
taking cautionary tales as aspirations,
insisting there’s gold beneath the grime.
I didn’t expect you, my daughter,

knowing the selectiveness of heavenly mercy,
would demand that heaven acknowledge you
and start living up to its ideals.

How can a parent ask their child
to be less than what they are,
to shrink their spirit
when they are finally ready
to shout truth in the face
of reactionary angels?

I may repent
an innumerable host of stupid decisions
but I refuse to renounce the greatest miracle
my disobedience has birthed.

 


Liner Notes for this Groove: I've been sick with COVID for the last week and a half. In between hacking up my lungs I got a chance to binge the musical series, Hazbin Hotel. While I enjoyed it, it's definitely not for everyone. The pacing gets a little crazy and there's a song/ scene that makes Fantine's I Dreamed a Dream from Le Miz seem like Somewhere Over the Rainbow (they were not kidding around with the content warning for episode four). But I am a sucker for musicals and characters that are idealistic dorks, like Lucifer and Charlie.