TRIGGER WARNING: This novel addresses themes of teen pregnancy, substance abuse, addiction, death, sexuality, religious pressure, body image struggles, and family conflict. Some material may be sensitive for readers.
Isabel Quintero does a fabulous job in Gabi, A Girl in Pieces of making us fall in love with a messy, smart, creative, beautiful, real-sounding protagonist. Gabi is sharing her journal with us, along with poetry, artwork, letters to her drug-addicted father, and innermost secrets. We are there for the highs and the lows, and we laugh right along with her, just before we grab a box of tissues to sob along with her. It is her senior year, and she is a pale-skinned Mexican American girl proud of her culture and obsessed with her food. (This gordita can relate.)
She tackles relationships with boys, friendship, teen-pregnancy, religious pressure, family dynamics, sibling issues, senior year stress, college applications, drug abuse, death, sex, body image, and more. Her voice is sarcastic, tender, raw, and heartbreakingly vulnerable. Navigating the minefields of adolescence in the 21st century has never seemed more fraught nor more worth celebrating. It is full of issues that make it a commonly banned book in conservative states’ schools. I feel sad for young ladies who may never get the chance to meet Gabi because there are probably many who could find hope and courage from her example.
Quintero, Isabel, Gabi, A Girl in Pieces, Cinco Puntos Press, 2014.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.
Hafiz’s Poem 17:
Vanity, my dear
Is merely proof
Of sheer ignorance
Some thoughts:
Hafiz seems to be addressing someone he cares about, by calling them “my dear.” This does not seem like a harsh rebuke, but more of a compassionate, gentle reminder. There is no need to be vain if we understand our true worth. Either we are over or under-inflating reality when we assess ourselves as less than or greater than we should.
If we mistake attention for worth, confuse a mask for the self, or are more concerned about appearance than authenticity, we are missing the mark. We are beautiful, magical, stardust creatures who are part of a giant, miraculous cosmos. We should not forget our true fabulousness by replacing it with vain imaginings that are neither helpful nor accurate. We are better than that.
My Poem 17:
Both extremes of vanity are inaccurate reflections of your miraculous beauty.
You are but dust and ashes, no greater than anyone else on this giant flying rock.
But the point is that you are stardust and magic, the hope of your ancestors made real.
Don’t confuse being ordinary with missing the fabulous truth that you are a singularity.
There has never been and never will be another you the same as the wondrous you right now.
Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.
Iimages created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.
Hafiz’s Poem 16:
Those preachers Who appear glorious In pulpits & on altars Yet in private Act totally the opposite
Some thoughts:
When I was growing up, televangelists were all the rage. It was the era of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker and Jimmy Swaggart. Televised preachers could paint a picture of righteousness and convince millions of people to send them money. Their private lives were not so righteous. The reality was filled with scandal, corruption, and behaviors that were quite the opposite of the messages they were preaching.
I guess the platform was a newly designed sort of soap box, but the concept was nothing new. There have always been those who will profit off a public perception of holiness, but it is merely a performance. Perhaps humanity should learn not to put others on soap boxes and accept that everyone is human, faulty, and corruptible.
Jimmy Swaggart from YouTube video (link below.)
My Poem 16:
“Those that climb to the highest heights spiritually can fall to the lowest depths.”
In a baby blue 3-piece suit. Pacing back and forth, then planting himself in a wide spread-eagle stance like he’s doing the most powerful power pose he can think of.
“As faulty worship caused death then, it can cause death now.”
In a sing-song, monotone, ever-crescendoing preacher cadence.
“You are obligated before God to walk holy and to walk righteous before an adulterous and wicked generation that’s dying and going to hell.”
The audience breaks out in applause. Why are we clapping? Because people are going to hell? Because we are being obliged to be better than them? I’m confused.
“We just started a ball team, and I told them, I said, If girls show up on that ball diamond with shorts on, I will appreciate you and do everything I can to help you in Jesus, but I’ll send you home to get some clothes on.”
Even bigger round of applause. Again, what are we clapping for? Jimmy Swaggart’s admission that he will lust after young girls if they are wearing shorts? What in the hell?
He speaks of himself in the 3rd person.
“Jimmy Swaggart, you’re preaching that in California? Are you out of your mind?”
He holds a Bible aloft to demonstrate that “this doesn’t change” even if things have changed in the rest of the world.
“You may look at me like a calf lookin’ at a new gate and preachers may get off behind my back and snicker, but I’m going to preach what this word says.”
He won’t kick you out of the church. He’ll pray for you, sit with your sick, wipe your brow, cry and weep for you, but he will tell you what “thus sayeth the Lord.”
I guess the Lord says He doesn’t like girls on ball diamonds wearing shorts.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.
Hafiz’s Poem 15:
The tavern door’s been closed up Oh God
May this not open the door
To the house of hypocrisy & lies
Some thoughts:
When morality is legislated harshly and too conservatively, Hafiz seems to be implying, the stage is set for inauthenticity and deception. When we judge others for their faults, weaknesses, or perceived sins, we are focusing in the wrong direction. Don’t we have our own lives that need work? “I would never…” is the common refrain of the hypocrite. Many different religious traditions have examples of spiritual greatness being found in unexpected moments that would be perceived by others as sinful or improbable.
The weaponizing of purity destroys authentic community and honest communication and instead creates an atmosphere of performative righteousness. Appearances become more important than vulnerability, truth, or freedom. Pretension takes the place of connection. Control replaces joy and expression. And obedience replaces love. People tend to lie more when they have to hide their true selves.
My Poem 15 (This is of course facetious, a picture of hypocrisy.):
Praise the Lord I am nothing like those sinners who break the law to provide for their families.
I would never because I was born here in the land of the free and am a good religious person of faith.
People should accept the fate they’ve been handed with grace and obedience instead of causing problems for everyone else.
You’ll never see me stealing resources for myself and taking advantage of a system that is too soft on thieves.
Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.
Hafiz’s Poem 14:
The chief cop
Has chopped off
The lovely hair
Of the harp
Some thoughts:
Whether literal or figurative, the imagery is breathtakingly sad. Some institutional authority figures or law enforcement representatives have stifled beauty, art, or freedom of expression. Quite literally, some depots during Hafiz’s time (and today) outlawed certain music, literature, art, plays, and performances that they deemed dangerous or anti-them. The banning of books, words, ideas, thoughts, and symbols is nothing new. It is as old as dictators, and simply vile. Cutting off the harp’s hair is an attempt to shame, silence, humiliate, and send a message of fear and warning to anyone else who might dare threaten defiance.
Some authority figures are going beyond art and music, to the banning of words they do not prefer because they are too inclusive, diverse, and gender-affirming. The following is a list of words the current Trump administration has instructed federal agencies to avoid in all official documentation (and reject if used on applications for grants.) Basically, these are “banned” words that cannot be used if you want federal funding.
My Poem 14:
6,870 books were banned in public schools last year. These were all books on my Texas classroom library shelves: The Bluest Eye Toni Morrison Looking for Alaska John Green Wicked Gregory Maguire Life of Pi Yann Martel Lock and Key Sarah Dessen House of Night series P.C. Cast & Kristin Cast My Sister’s Keeper Jodi Picoult November Blues Sharon Draper Safe Haven Nicholas Sparks The Chocolate War Robert Cormier The Help Kathryn Stockett The House of the Scorpion Nancy Farmer Twilight Stephenie Meyer Walk Two Moons Sharon Creech Zorro Isabel Allende Sideways Stories from Wayside School Louis Sachar The House on Mango Street Sandra Cisneros 1984 George Orwell Gabi, a Girl in Pieces Isabel Quintero Native Son Richard Wright Speak Laurie Halse Anderson Scrub and sanitize, whitewash the outside of the tombs. The children will have to teach themselves the truth outside the hallowed public school halls. They know intuitively the stench of lies beneath the flowers and perfume, and your bans only increase their curiosity.
Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.
Hafiz’s Poem 13:
Once, this was a city of friends
In a land of kind people –
What happened to the love
& where are the compassionate leaders
Some thoughts:
Hafiz seems to be remembering nostalgically the collective culture of his homeland during a gentler time. It sounds like it was a lovely time of peace and people who felt like they belonged in community. Maybe the inhabitants even took pride in how friendly and welcoming they were. Now things have changed. He is writing in a time that feels discouraging, unkind, less of a collective support system. The love is gone. Compassion is absent in leadership. They are not protecting the vulnerable, demonstrating care, or displaying accountability. People probably feel isolated, afraid to speak their truth, and unsure who to trust.
My Poem 13:
What moral drift has left us alone with our thoughts, afraid to speak, tender to the touch?
Murals have faded. Warmth only a memory bereft of substance. Lack of accountability creates fear, erodes trust.
Is kindness optional? Does human dignity disappear because politics plays ugly games with ethical dilemmas?
Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.
Hafiz’s Poem 12:
I behold hundreds of thousands of flowers
Yet no bird sings –
Where have the birds all gone
& what happened to the nightingales
Some thoughts:
The absence of birdsong is unnatural. Seeing the beauty of outside, surrounded by flowers, soaking in the loveliness…and suddenly an uncomfortable sensation prickles the hair at the nape of the neck. We are coded genetically or ancestrally or instinctively to sense danger when the birds fall silent. And when do birds disappear (or at least hide in their nests)? When predators make the environment unsafe, unnatural events are taking place, or acts of God are about to be unleashed. I also read that birds sometimes decrease their presence and/or singing when they recognize that they are being watched. It is probably because the watching equates to potential predation, but it makes me wonder if increased surveillance in the form of cameras and other recording equipment interrupts their lifestyles.
Nightingales are some of the most singingest singers of the bird kingdom. They can make over 1,000 different sounds and males desperate to find a mate have been observed singing through an entire night. Their songs can reach 90 decibels and some know up to 260 different songs they can sing. In many literary contexts, nightingales represent the lover, the poet, the truth-teller, the one who sings no matter what. If even they have been silenced, we should be concerned. Hafiz may be speaking literally about human encroachment on nature with structural advancements and technological progress. But he could also be speaking metaphorically about oppression and the result of silencing freedom of speech. It is a false beauty that demands absolute obeisance.
My Poem 12:
Sing for those in hiding, doors barred by fear of discovery. Sing for those who are crying for their loved ones pulled away.
Sing for those out marching to speak up for the ones who can’t. Sing for those just starting to realize the sickening truths.
Sing for those who’ve been taken, whose futures are perilously unknown. Sing for those who will not awaken because their lives were stolen.
Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.
Hafiz’s Poem 11:
Let’s face it
The people of our time
Have no sympathy for the poor
Some thoughts:
Well, this could have been written anytime, anywhere. Religions must make it a rule that we help the poor because, apparently, most groups of people struggle with feeling sympathy or empathy for others. So many believe if only they would pull themselves up by their bootstraps, have a better abundance mindset, put some effort into it, be more motivated, less lazy, more faithful, less wasteful, etc., they could dig themselves out of the hole they are in. Some religions believe it is karma from past lives or lessons they need to suffer through, so we shouldn’t interfere.
What if they were born in the hole or thrown there by others and left with no tools? What if they have little to no strength to climb due to spending all day just trying to survive? What if anytime they begin to climb even a little bit, they are knocked back down by forces outside their control? What if they live in the hole with a violent animal they must spend all their energy fighting off or staying vigilant to survive? All I know is that being poor is rarely a choice. Most people desire to be self-sufficient. Poverty feels embarrassing, humiliating, discouraging. Rather than kicking people when they are down, why not give people any help we can offer?
My Poem 11:
To teach a man to fish, we must first ensure the man has access to water that is not polluted, is stocked with unpoisoned fish, that he is not allergic to fish, and is not a vegetarian or opposed to the killing of fish. Does he have a fishing license? In Texas, he must have a driver license or state identification and a social security card as prerequisites. If he is not a legal resident, he may not have either of those. So, first we must ascertain if he is a citizen or here legally. Otherwise, he is breaking the law to even attempt to fish. He may need a sidewalk if he’s in a wheelchair. Does he have a fishing pole? Does he have arms or legs with which to hold the fishing pole? If not, have we made sure his fishing pole is properly adapted to his needs Does he know how to swim if he falls in the water? Are we sure he has the mental ability to learn to fish? The emotional stability to take a life to sustain his own? Does he own a knife to clean the fish? Does he know how to build a fire to cook the fish? If so, does he have access to wood, fuel, or other means of heating the fish to prevent illness? Is it even legal to build a fire where he is fishing? Can he afford bait? There are so many more things to consider than merely a worn platitude that makes us feel righteous.
Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
Poem by Mary Oliver
Read one newspaper daily (the morning edition is the best for by evening you know that you at least have lived through another day) and let the disasters, the unbelievable yet approved decisions, soak in.
I don’t need to name the countries, ours among them.
What keeps us from falling down, our faces to the ground; ashamed, ashamed?
My Poem: Mary, Mary
Mary, Mary, quite contrary. No one reads papers anymore. Not because they don’t exist, but because we can’t stomach it.
I picture you saddened by news of world events unfolding in the sickening slow motion of words frozen on the page in time.
And I wonder which is worse, the descriptions of violence we commit against each other on paper, or the real-time videos on social media?
Oh, how you would hang your head and weep at the morning “paper”, such as it is today, malicious hate unbearably wreaking havoc with impunity.
Oliver, Mary. A Thousand Mornings: Poems. Penguin Books, 2012.
All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.
I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.
Hafiz’s Poem 10:
We aren’t about to beg
For the sake of our daily bread
Go tell His Majesty
We’re doing fine without him
Some thoughts:
Dang! Hafiz. This poem is brave. I don’t know which ruler’s reign it was written during, but it must have been one of the more despicable ones. Hafiz is obviously not impressed with the implied demand that the people submit through fear and desperation to authority. For even something as crucial as sustenance, Hafiz would rather starve than accept handouts from a despot.
He is refusing to bend the knee before false sympathy. His is a peaceful protest rejecting humiliation, rejecting any part in a tyrannical system, and projecting calm resolve. And why does His Majesty (I can almost feel the air quotes around the title) have all the bread anyway? Why is he hoarding what the people need? Hmmmmm…sounds a little suspect. These poems are starting to feel pretty too close to home right now.
My Poem 10:
Your excuses no longer pacify. Your explanations make less than no sense. Your arguments don’t hold water. Your rationales beg the question. Your reasonings are oversimplification. Your conclusions are flawed. Your justifications are red herrings. Your premises are based on hate. Your convictions are built on self-righteousness. Your desires are constructed by greed. Your claims are predicated on nonsense. Your logic is unsound. Your beliefs are heinously evil. Your rhetoric is embarrassing. Your legacy will be accurately remembered by those who observe, take note, and record.
Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.
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