Scan barcode
solitary's review against another edition
3.0
favorites:
• leaves and blossoms along the way
• storage
• the pond
i’ve started upstream before and i think i like her writing there more
• leaves and blossoms along the way
• storage
• the pond
i’ve started upstream before and i think i like her writing there more
jcoryv's review against another edition
5.0
Reading Mary Oliver is a solid way to begin a day... or a year.
spenkevich's review against another edition
5.0
‘There are moments that cry out to be fulfilled’ writes poet Mary Oliver, and what can be a more momentous moment in our lives than the moments when love, like a great gale of passion, overcomes us, uproots us, sends us tumbling on a force greater than ourselves towards a new horizon. Such are the moments fulfilled by Oliver’s sublimely succinct words in Felicity, the final collection of poetry from the Pulitzer Prize winning poet published in 2015. ‘Poems arrive ready to being,’ she writes, ‘poems are the only transportation,’ and each poem transports us into the disarming glow of love and wonderment for the world around us. It is a collection that bestows a quiet grace into the reader’s heart, a collection that harmonizes with awe, a collection that reads like overlooking the vast beauty of nature on a cozy, rainy day while one’s heart is so full of love and longing for another it feels like the body cannot contain it. If such love were to burst free and land upon a page, it would be these poems.
NOT ANYONE WHO SAYS
Not anyone who says, “I’m going to be
careful and smart in matters of love,”
who says, “I’m going to choose slowly,”
but only those lovers who didn’t choose at all
but were, as it were, chosen
by something invisible and powerful and uncontrollable
and beautiful and possibly even
unsuitable —
only those know what I’m talking about
in this talking about love.
Love overtakes us, it surprises us, it penetrates our defenses and puts down our best efforts at resistance and Oliver’s words flow forward into the heart like a wave of such endearing affect, unable to be ignored or held dearly. These are poems that will call to mind the face of a loved one or make you yearn for a heart beating somewhere back down a road you hope to return to. They capture the moments of fear evaporated into felicity upon diving in and being thankful for the plunge as she writes in I Did Think, Let’s Go About This Slowly:
I did think, lets go about this slowly.
This is important, this should take
some really deep thought. We should take
small thoughtful steps.
But, bless us, we didn’t.
I mean, thats the kind of poem you can read at a wedding. And maybe should. There’s just this freeing energy here to match the feelings of giving in to love, to aching for another, to unabashedly loving the tender or sappy moments that would cause you to roll your eyes otherwise. The small moments, the hands brushing together, the gazes across a room betraying your heart, the moments of falling asleep with your phone in hand mid-text because, like in I Don’t Want to Lose, you’ve stayed awake beyond exhaustion not wanting to lose a single, precious minute:
I don’t want to lose a single thread
from the intricate brocade of this happiness.
I want to remember everything.
Which is why I’m lying awake, sleepy
but not sleepy enough to give it up.
Just now, a moment from years ago:
the early morning light, the deft, sweet
gesture of your hand
reaching for me.
These are poems that just make you want to gush. They are so sweet and cute yet deeply penetrating. I’ve always felt Oliver is a perfect balance of accessible and meaningful and while these might not be her strongest poems they arrive directly into the tenderest parts of my heart that I’d only show to those who I’d weather the worst storms with. But like, come on, how adorable is this and a perfect blend between her thoughts on love and Oliver’s signature love for the wild world:
EXCEPT FOR THE BODY
Except for the body
of someone you love,
including all its expressions
in privacy and in public,
trees, I think,
are the most beautiful
forms on the earth.
Though, admittedly,
if this were a contest,
the trees would come in
an extremely distant second.
Published in 2015 just a few years before Oliver’s passing in 2019, these poems arrive two years after the death of her lifelong partner, Molly Malone Cook. The couple have such an adorable love story, having met in the home of poet [a:Edna St. Vincent Millay|33998|Edna St. Vincent Millay|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1183231710p2/33998.jpg] where Oliver was working and striking up a lasting partnership where Molly would often answer work calls on behalf of Mary and pretend to be her to the point that it was widely considered that reaching Molly was the same as reaching Mary. I love them and their love. I also just love love. But anyways, Molly had recently passed before the publication of Felicity though she is felt in every poem.
‘The leaves are all in motion now
the way a young boy rows and rows
in his wooden boat, just to get anywhere. Late, late,
but now lovely and lovelier. And the two of us
together — a part of it.’
There is a sense of loss here, yet a sense of love enduring, of love surviving the washing away of time and even death. Its a love that survives brokenness the way love can heal the parts of you that you might have once thought broken. The sort of love you’d have to feel to write about it. May we all find such a love.
EVERYTHING THAT WAS BROKEN
Everything that was broken has
forgotten its brokenness. I love
now in a sky-house, through every
window the sun. Also your presence.
our touching, our stories. Earthy
and holy both. How can this be, but
it is. Every day has something in
it whose name is Forever.
This is a short collection of rather short poems, but the effect is rather lasting. I adored the [a:Rumi|875661|Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1217355543p2/875661.jpg] quotes that break up each section and the poems on life as a journey. We see this journey as something lit by the light of love in Oliver’s gaze, and it is a gorgeous path to take along with her. Grasp these poems by the hand, it is so lovely to have one’s hand held.
5/5
A VOICE FROM I DON'T KNOW WHERE
It seems you love this world very much.
“Yes, I said. “This beautiful world.”
And you don’t mind the mind, that keeps you
busy all the time with its dark and bright wonderings?
“No, I’m quite used to it. Busy, busy,
all the time.”
And you don’t mind living with those questions,
I mean the hard ones, that no one can answer?
“Actually, they’re the most interesting.”
And you have a person in your life whose hand
you like to hold?
“Yes, I do.”
It must surely, then, be very happy down there
in your heart.
“Yes,” I said. “It is.”
NOT ANYONE WHO SAYS
Not anyone who says, “I’m going to be
careful and smart in matters of love,”
who says, “I’m going to choose slowly,”
but only those lovers who didn’t choose at all
but were, as it were, chosen
by something invisible and powerful and uncontrollable
and beautiful and possibly even
unsuitable —
only those know what I’m talking about
in this talking about love.
Love overtakes us, it surprises us, it penetrates our defenses and puts down our best efforts at resistance and Oliver’s words flow forward into the heart like a wave of such endearing affect, unable to be ignored or held dearly. These are poems that will call to mind the face of a loved one or make you yearn for a heart beating somewhere back down a road you hope to return to. They capture the moments of fear evaporated into felicity upon diving in and being thankful for the plunge as she writes in I Did Think, Let’s Go About This Slowly:
I did think, lets go about this slowly.
This is important, this should take
some really deep thought. We should take
small thoughtful steps.
But, bless us, we didn’t.
I mean, thats the kind of poem you can read at a wedding. And maybe should. There’s just this freeing energy here to match the feelings of giving in to love, to aching for another, to unabashedly loving the tender or sappy moments that would cause you to roll your eyes otherwise. The small moments, the hands brushing together, the gazes across a room betraying your heart, the moments of falling asleep with your phone in hand mid-text because, like in I Don’t Want to Lose, you’ve stayed awake beyond exhaustion not wanting to lose a single, precious minute:
I don’t want to lose a single thread
from the intricate brocade of this happiness.
I want to remember everything.
Which is why I’m lying awake, sleepy
but not sleepy enough to give it up.
Just now, a moment from years ago:
the early morning light, the deft, sweet
gesture of your hand
reaching for me.
These are poems that just make you want to gush. They are so sweet and cute yet deeply penetrating. I’ve always felt Oliver is a perfect balance of accessible and meaningful and while these might not be her strongest poems they arrive directly into the tenderest parts of my heart that I’d only show to those who I’d weather the worst storms with. But like, come on, how adorable is this and a perfect blend between her thoughts on love and Oliver’s signature love for the wild world:
EXCEPT FOR THE BODY
Except for the body
of someone you love,
including all its expressions
in privacy and in public,
trees, I think,
are the most beautiful
forms on the earth.
Though, admittedly,
if this were a contest,
the trees would come in
an extremely distant second.
Published in 2015 just a few years before Oliver’s passing in 2019, these poems arrive two years after the death of her lifelong partner, Molly Malone Cook. The couple have such an adorable love story, having met in the home of poet [a:Edna St. Vincent Millay|33998|Edna St. Vincent Millay|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1183231710p2/33998.jpg] where Oliver was working and striking up a lasting partnership where Molly would often answer work calls on behalf of Mary and pretend to be her to the point that it was widely considered that reaching Molly was the same as reaching Mary. I love them and their love. I also just love love. But anyways, Molly had recently passed before the publication of Felicity though she is felt in every poem.
‘The leaves are all in motion now
the way a young boy rows and rows
in his wooden boat, just to get anywhere. Late, late,
but now lovely and lovelier. And the two of us
together — a part of it.’
There is a sense of loss here, yet a sense of love enduring, of love surviving the washing away of time and even death. Its a love that survives brokenness the way love can heal the parts of you that you might have once thought broken. The sort of love you’d have to feel to write about it. May we all find such a love.
EVERYTHING THAT WAS BROKEN
Everything that was broken has
forgotten its brokenness. I love
now in a sky-house, through every
window the sun. Also your presence.
our touching, our stories. Earthy
and holy both. How can this be, but
it is. Every day has something in
it whose name is Forever.
This is a short collection of rather short poems, but the effect is rather lasting. I adored the [a:Rumi|875661|Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1217355543p2/875661.jpg] quotes that break up each section and the poems on life as a journey. We see this journey as something lit by the light of love in Oliver’s gaze, and it is a gorgeous path to take along with her. Grasp these poems by the hand, it is so lovely to have one’s hand held.
5/5
A VOICE FROM I DON'T KNOW WHERE
It seems you love this world very much.
“Yes, I said. “This beautiful world.”
And you don’t mind the mind, that keeps you
busy all the time with its dark and bright wonderings?
“No, I’m quite used to it. Busy, busy,
all the time.”
And you don’t mind living with those questions,
I mean the hard ones, that no one can answer?
“Actually, they’re the most interesting.”
And you have a person in your life whose hand
you like to hold?
“Yes, I do.”
It must surely, then, be very happy down there
in your heart.
“Yes,” I said. “It is.”
ilman002's review against another edition
2.0
I read poetry because I want to be emotionally moved. Apart from a few poems, this collection did nothing for me. Back to reading Neruda.
emmabeckman's review against another edition
5.0
That was a particularly lovely compilation of poems, definitely one I will return to in the future.
cloudtifa's review against another edition
4.0
and you have a person in your life whose hand
you like to hold?
"yes, i do."
it must surely, then, be very happy down there
in your heart.
"yes," i said. "it is."
this was sweet, i like sweet things
you like to hold?
"yes, i do."
it must surely, then, be very happy down there
in your heart.
"yes," i said. "it is."
this was sweet, i like sweet things
swagmoneyjoe's review against another edition
5.0
Mary. Effing. Oliver. There will never be another person to walk this beautiful earth who gets it quite like she did.
tormentalidad's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
4.0