I wish that line wasn’t so perfect. I wish it didn’t need to describe what never should have happened. I wish that as poets we didn’t have this calling to make the ugly beautiful. That’s not quite right. Because we also show the ugly as ugly. But finding the beauty of just the right words to fit the ugly things of the world that we cannot look away from. Sometimes that affirmation feels almost like denial. Except it isn’t really. I’m not sure what I want to say, except that I’m grateful for your words because they touch me to the heart.
Thank you, Melanie. I don’t have to speak of the ugliness; others are speaking of nothing else. I just want to do what poets have always done, and that is to write. Much gratitude for your kind words.🙏
I feel lucky - here in Tokyo the winters are bright, sunny, not very cold. The plum blossoms are starting to appear. Life is calm. We worry about earthquakes, not the government.
Jeffrey, I am feeling better, just in time for the real January cold. I wish I could look forward to cherry blossoms! You will have to write about them. Thank you for your good wishes.
Thank you so much, Lynn. This flu hit so hard, but what is happening in the world right now is more painful for so many. I appreciate your kind words.🙏
Thanks for finding your way through your sickness to these words. We are in this together and I think sharing our grief for a poet silenced is beautiful. If not beautiful, then it's the best we can do.
Like you, I wish this wasn't reality. I wish this wasn't the world I have to live in right now. "Beware of darkness," you say, and I have to hold that close because it seems like darkness is within and all around. But you, and words, and good humans, pockets of happiness, still give me hope. Thank you, Mary.
“Beware of Darkness” is my favorite of George Harrison’s songs. He wrote it during some very intense times. Seeking the good requires acknowledging the the bad, even the worst. You are a pocket of light, Tiffany. Sending love.💛💛💛
Hi Mary, I’m so glad you’re feeling better! I've missed you! The line about Jefferson starship made me laugh. Those were wacky times. I recently finished watching Elton John biopic on the Disney Channel and I didn’t know this because I was still fairly young, well, not too young since my first rock concert was in 1973, Bad Company in Pittsburgh—I was a tween! Anyway, John Lennon made an appearance on stage with Elton John, and he had not been on stage since 1966. It was after that that he and Yoko got back together, she was in the audience unbeknownst to him, and then they had their son Sean. It was the last time he performed on stage. A fabulous show if you're into music bios. Anyway, I’m rambling a bit.
The news out of Minneapolis is tragically sad. Thank you for writing in between your sleeps. I have been in a semi-bubble since December 10 when my husband had major heart surgery. My world has narrowed to caretaking and running our trucks and taking care of the Cooper, the house, which is far too big for two people, plus taking care of myself—walks in the woods, noticing the gorgeous Kentucky winter skies, painting birds and revising shimmers and shards (Ty Jeannine Ouelette for that phrase) in my Notes app (955 notes, what?) in search of little gems of hope. Take good care of yourself, we need you. xo
Maureen, Bad Company! My first concert was Steppenwolf, and they were terrible. Bad sound, and I think they played for 30 minutes and left. What a contrast to the special experience you had.
You have a lot in your life right now. My best wishes for your husband’s speedy recovery. Thank goodness you have the things you need to stay in touch with the good. Like “shimmers and shards” — love that phrase. I’ve been trying to follow Notes but am behind on everything. Glad to be better now, and writing again. Thanks for the kind thoughts.
Maureen, you are so kind. I’m glad to hear about your husband. I don’t have any special grace as a widow, and would not wish this on anyone. Yes, Notes on the phone app. I’m trying to use it more, and get away from doomscrolling the news.
Don’t underestimate how you’re handling this. When the doctor told us, he wasn’t sure Lar might not make it off the table, of course, we were horrified, and then when I told my family and friends that I was not ready, you should’ve seen the looks on their faces. Nobody is ready. You’re right, not a wish for anyone.
So glad you are recovering and speaking out: "To remember the small details of someone’s life is to honor them in death."
Indeed, and we must speak out to save our democracy, our right to vote and to protest! If you are reading this comment, mobilize to vote against fascism.
Thank you, Mary. It was so disturbing to me — heartbreaking — that Renee Good’s life got trashed and desecrated immediately. That on certain news channels, the fact that she was a poet was met with such contempt. I have wonderful neighbors, and we are coming together to support our community. And we need to remember Renee.
It's quite somthing how the evil that's been at least partially restrained seems to have broke through its bonds and now pours out like sewage spewing from a rusted culvert. I've got to wonder if we've reached terminal velocity for malfeasance.
If evil prevails when good people do and say nothing, then this forum is at least doing what's right. We need to figure out, though, how to break down the walls of the echo chambers and get truth into the ears of the ignorant and the foolish.
Mary, I knew you'd have something to say about "the full, the final stop" when the moment was right. It's always bracing to hear your voice, especially now.
Rona, thank you. I hope my words honor Renee Good’s full legacy, including the search for the right word and the precise means of conveying her message through poetry.
Susan, the flu is gone and I wish more than anything that ICE would leave. I hope my words honor and bless the good people among us, and that we may come together and face down this evil, as Renee did so courageously.
Lovely, fitting tribute
Thank you, Susan.🙏
“not expecting the full, the final stop.”
I wish that line wasn’t so perfect. I wish it didn’t need to describe what never should have happened. I wish that as poets we didn’t have this calling to make the ugly beautiful. That’s not quite right. Because we also show the ugly as ugly. But finding the beauty of just the right words to fit the ugly things of the world that we cannot look away from. Sometimes that affirmation feels almost like denial. Except it isn’t really. I’m not sure what I want to say, except that I’m grateful for your words because they touch me to the heart.
Thank you, Melanie. I don’t have to speak of the ugliness; others are speaking of nothing else. I just want to do what poets have always done, and that is to write. Much gratitude for your kind words.🙏
Your beautiful poem gave me chills
Thank you, David. Your words mean a lot to me.🙏
Mary, I hope you feel fully recovered soon!
I feel lucky - here in Tokyo the winters are bright, sunny, not very cold. The plum blossoms are starting to appear. Life is calm. We worry about earthquakes, not the government.
Jeffrey, I am feeling better, just in time for the real January cold. I wish I could look forward to cherry blossoms! You will have to write about them. Thank you for your good wishes.
Thank you, Mary, for remembering Renee. Something ain't right here, and it's got to change. I'm glad you are feeling better.
Carole, thank you for the kind wishes. I hope to always see the good, even if it is through teargas. Maybe that is how things change.🙏
I pray for your community every day. Be safe! If you have to deal with such fresh hell, Amazon sells gas masks.
Thank you again, Carole! Why am I not surprised about Amazon. I hope I don’t have to check them out.
So glad you are feeling better! Our bodies remind us how human we are!
Your poem says so much! It is needed now, more than ever! Blessings for a full recovery!
Thank you so much, Lynn. This flu hit so hard, but what is happening in the world right now is more painful for so many. I appreciate your kind words.🙏
Thanks for finding your way through your sickness to these words. We are in this together and I think sharing our grief for a poet silenced is beautiful. If not beautiful, then it's the best we can do.
Leanne, we are in this together. Yes, we do what we can. Words are a powerful way to take care of each other.
Like you, I wish this wasn't reality. I wish this wasn't the world I have to live in right now. "Beware of darkness," you say, and I have to hold that close because it seems like darkness is within and all around. But you, and words, and good humans, pockets of happiness, still give me hope. Thank you, Mary.
“Beware of Darkness” is my favorite of George Harrison’s songs. He wrote it during some very intense times. Seeking the good requires acknowledging the the bad, even the worst. You are a pocket of light, Tiffany. Sending love.💛💛💛
Hi Mary, I’m so glad you’re feeling better! I've missed you! The line about Jefferson starship made me laugh. Those were wacky times. I recently finished watching Elton John biopic on the Disney Channel and I didn’t know this because I was still fairly young, well, not too young since my first rock concert was in 1973, Bad Company in Pittsburgh—I was a tween! Anyway, John Lennon made an appearance on stage with Elton John, and he had not been on stage since 1966. It was after that that he and Yoko got back together, she was in the audience unbeknownst to him, and then they had their son Sean. It was the last time he performed on stage. A fabulous show if you're into music bios. Anyway, I’m rambling a bit.
The news out of Minneapolis is tragically sad. Thank you for writing in between your sleeps. I have been in a semi-bubble since December 10 when my husband had major heart surgery. My world has narrowed to caretaking and running our trucks and taking care of the Cooper, the house, which is far too big for two people, plus taking care of myself—walks in the woods, noticing the gorgeous Kentucky winter skies, painting birds and revising shimmers and shards (Ty Jeannine Ouelette for that phrase) in my Notes app (955 notes, what?) in search of little gems of hope. Take good care of yourself, we need you. xo
Maureen, Bad Company! My first concert was Steppenwolf, and they were terrible. Bad sound, and I think they played for 30 minutes and left. What a contrast to the special experience you had.
You have a lot in your life right now. My best wishes for your husband’s speedy recovery. Thank goodness you have the things you need to stay in touch with the good. Like “shimmers and shards” — love that phrase. I’ve been trying to follow Notes but am behind on everything. Glad to be better now, and writing again. Thanks for the kind thoughts.
Thanks, I don’t say this lightly—I was deeply afraid I would be a widow and I thought if this happens now, let me have the grace of Mary Robyn.
And to clarify, I meant Notes app on my iPhone, not Notes in Substack, but that too would be a good exercise!
Maureen, you are so kind. I’m glad to hear about your husband. I don’t have any special grace as a widow, and would not wish this on anyone. Yes, Notes on the phone app. I’m trying to use it more, and get away from doomscrolling the news.
Don’t underestimate how you’re handling this. When the doctor told us, he wasn’t sure Lar might not make it off the table, of course, we were horrified, and then when I told my family and friends that I was not ready, you should’ve seen the looks on their faces. Nobody is ready. You’re right, not a wish for anyone.
So glad you are recovering and speaking out: "To remember the small details of someone’s life is to honor them in death."
Indeed, and we must speak out to save our democracy, our right to vote and to protest! If you are reading this comment, mobilize to vote against fascism.
Thank you, Mary. It was so disturbing to me — heartbreaking — that Renee Good’s life got trashed and desecrated immediately. That on certain news channels, the fact that she was a poet was met with such contempt. I have wonderful neighbors, and we are coming together to support our community. And we need to remember Renee.
I stand with you and all of Minneapolis as we watch fascism in action and protest against it. Beautiful poem, Mary.
As Seamus Heaney said in this excerpt from _The Cure of Troy_:
Doubletake (Title used by the magazine of that name)
Human beings suffer,
they torture one another,
they get hurt and get hard.
No poem or play or song
can fully right a wrong
inflicted and endured.
The innocent in gaols
beat on their bars together.
A hunger-striker’s father
stands in the graveyard dumb.
The police widow in veils
faints at the funeral home.
History says, Don’t hope
on this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
the longed for tidal wave
of justice can rise up,
and hope and history rhyme.
So hope for a great sea-change
on the far side of revenge.
Believe that a further shore
is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
and cures and healing wells.
Call the miracle self-healing:
The utter self-revealing
double-take of feeling.
if there’s fire on the mountain
or lightning and storm
and a god speaks from the sky.
That means someone is hearing
the outcry and the birth-cry
of new life at its term.
Seamus Heaney, Nobel Laureate 1995, excerpt from The Cure at Troy
Thank you. Poetry is beautiful. Poetry is powerful. Poetry is most needed in the darkest days. It breaks our hearts every time.
Basel, it is the truth.🙏
It's quite somthing how the evil that's been at least partially restrained seems to have broke through its bonds and now pours out like sewage spewing from a rusted culvert. I've got to wonder if we've reached terminal velocity for malfeasance.
If evil prevails when good people do and say nothing, then this forum is at least doing what's right. We need to figure out, though, how to break down the walls of the echo chambers and get truth into the ears of the ignorant and the foolish.
Martin, it hurts to think that there are people out there who will never be touched by the light. But Renee still shines brightly.🙏
Mary, I knew you'd have something to say about "the full, the final stop" when the moment was right. It's always bracing to hear your voice, especially now.
Rona, thank you. I hope my words honor Renee Good’s full legacy, including the search for the right word and the precise means of conveying her message through poetry.
Heart-wrenching in the telling of little things. Breathless in its simplicity.
We will all be sitting with this one for a long time, in the silence, in the immorality, in the UNreality of it all.
Thank you
Thank you, Barbara. I want to honor Renee’s gifts and professionalism as a poet, along with her love for life.
“feet tapping hummingbird, happily” Wow. Incredible resuscitation from your sick bed. Thank you.
Thank you, Kimberly. I hope my words honor the joy and light of Renee Good. 🙏
Thank you, Mary. Your words reach deep and are beautiful in their acknowledgement of the grief and horror. May the flu leave you and ICE depart too.
Susan, the flu is gone and I wish more than anything that ICE would leave. I hope my words honor and bless the good people among us, and that we may come together and face down this evil, as Renee did so courageously.