3:15 Experiment Poetry 2010: sleep escapes me
Poetry from the 3:15 Experiment 2010
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Sleep largely escapes me:
Late nights. Early mornings.
The neighbor dog’s incessant barking.
The night terrors. The shocking dreams.
brings my sleep
to its knees.
Worst of all
biggest traitor to my sleep
is grief.
Grief stumbles about wildly
like a bull in a China shop
shatters the fragile nature of peaceful nights
guarantees exhausted days
eyes weary & gritty from sand paper tears
new lines formed from down turned smiles
a knot in my throat the size of Tennessee.
I’ve been doing the 3:15 Experiment since 2001. Most years, I follow the rules and I don’t look at what I’ve written until the month is over. This year, my mother died July 30, the night before this year’s experiment was to begin, so I decided to post some of those 3:15 poems as they are written.
3:15 Experiment Poetry 2010: new museum
Poetry from the 3:15 Experiment
August 6, 2010
Last First Friday, July’s First Friday
the newly remodeled museum opened
& the local glitterati gathered there
in the new courtyard beyond
the new wall of waterfall
as we rode past on our bicycles.
Let’s ride in someone suggested.
I laughed. Our group was
dressed as Ventucky Vice
lots of white coats & white shirts
squirt guns instead of metal ones
On behalf of my mom,
I went yesterday to arrange
her memorial–how to
know about flowers, and not
when we don’t know about the place?
We met more people there
and I
walked out immediately
The familiar off-gassy new carpet smell
had already coated my tongue.
Nephew Kyle suggested we all just
walk to Green Art People &
do ti there logistically
of course that wouldn’t works so
we came up with a plan
for Sunday.
And today for FF
we will ride our chariots
our horse, our bicycles
proudly by it.
I’ve been doing the 3:15 Experiment since 2001. Most years, I follow the rules and I don’t look at what I’ve written until the month is over. This year, my mother died July 30, the night before this year’s experiment was to begin, so I decided to post some of those 3:15 poems as they are written.
The memorial service will be help at the Ventura County Museum 100 E. Main, Ventura, at 2pm. I’ve been encouraging people to ride their bicycles there.
Listen.
Paul Squires aka GingaTao is my favorite poet of the bloggosphere, and one of my favorite poets ever. I was reeling with news of his accidental death at 46 last week when, less than 24 later, my mother, Suzanne Lawrence died. Both deaths are shocking, unexpected, too soon: they had so much to give to the world still.
I love his poem “Listen” so much that I am hoping to share it somehow at my mother’s Celebration of Life on Sunday at the Ventura County Museum; Below is a link to a podcast of one of my favorite poems of Paul’s; I love hearing him read it. Here’s a link to the text of the poem.
via gingatao
3:15 Experiment Poetry 2010: with a bang
Poetry from the 3:15 Experiment
Th. August 5, 2010: with a bang
The Ventura County Fair
opened today with its usual
bang
The opening salvos
of fireworks surprised us.
Tonight’s thick fog gave the explosions
a haunting echo
BANG ity bang
We didn’t rush out to see them
The fog would dull their fire
The trees have grown
and block the view.
But really I was feeling tired
& trying to remember if the fireworks
could be seen from the deck
of my mom’s
trying to remember if my
mom had watched them
and knowing that I
couldn’t call &
ask her
I’ve been doing the 3:15 Experiment since 2001. Most years, I follow the rules and I don’t look at what I’ve written until the month is over. This year, my mother died July 30, the night before this year’s experiment was to begin, so I decided to post some of those 3:15 poems as they are written.
3:15 Experiment Poetry 2010: She like them
A Poem from the 3:15 Experiment
August 4, 2010
Gardening. Night blooming jasmine.
Cecil Bruners roses. Begonias.
Nasturtiums. Sweetpeas.
These were a few of my mother’s favorite flowers.
She like them had a strong sense of smell
my mother
Hated cilantro. Complained about it
vehemently.
I bought 3 gardenia plants last year
gave her one. Mine are blooming
but she seems to have lost
hers, lost it to her
brown thumb
She had no patience for
growing things
the simple joys of gardening
that claimed her grandmother
& her father & her daughter
as ardent practitioners
was not for her
She preferred someone else
to grow her blue cherokee tomatoes
crookneck squash
sweet smelling flowers
and so I did
It was beyond her why
I bothered to plant & grow cilantro
that effort better spent
elsewhere growing what
she appreciated:
night blooming jasmine
sweet peas
nasturtiums
I’ve been doing the 3:15 Experiment since 2001. Most years, I follow the rules and I don’t look at what I’ve written until the month is over. This year, my mother died July 30, the night before this year’s experiment was to begin, so I decided to post some of my 3:15 poems as they are written.
3:15 Poetry Experiment 2010: it’s hard
Monday August 3, 2010 3:15am
It’s hard to get motivated
to get up and write.
I just want to roll over
keep the lights off
go back to sleep.
The pen is awkward in my hand.
The words lost before they are formed.
The depth of my tiredness can not be measured.
The effort to put pen to page
rolls rocks up Mount Olympus.
There is no excuse
not to try tonight
so go words
I’ve been doing the 3:15 Experiment since 2001. Most years, I follow the rules and I don’t look at what I’ve written until the month is over. This year, my mother died July 30, the night before this year’s experiment was to begin, so I decided to post some of those 3:15 poems that are connected to my mother as they are written.
3:15 Experiment Poetry: August 1, 2010–a poem for my mother
August 1, 2010 3:15am
a poem for my mother
Unexpected and sudden.
That’s how I describe how
my mom died last night
Friday night July 30.
Now it is
the middle of
the night
& barely morning
and I am
wide awake
with my loss.
Usually this time of year
I am composing a
birthday card for her–
73 this year.
Instead I brought her present
to her empty house
to her empty house
filled with her family.
My mom loved
nasturtiums
deep reds & oranges especially
she marveled at the variety & color
did you see that one
she’d say
oh that’s scrumptious.
That was the color
of her front door
of her garage door
the greens of a
avocado inside and out
flesh and bones.
She lived in the
converted garage
of her parents house
even after they died
she preferred that
over their bedrooms
which she rented out to make
ends meet.
There is too much to say
and all of it inadequate
So I am trying to tell you
about the birthday present
I couldn’t give her:
The woven bedspread
the color of nasturtiums
my sister & I
laid on her empty bed
yesterday
It was perfect
she would have loved it
and it makes her bed
seem less empty
by Gwendolyn Alley
This poem is dedicated to my mother Suzanne Lawrence who passed away Friday, July 30, 2010.
Since Nov. 2007, I have publish poetry most Mondays, mostly my own but sometimes by others. For poetry by other bloggers, check out the Poetry Train.
It’s always great to be recognized, and I’m proud to say that three blogs wrote about me this month! Jo Diaz from Juicy Tales mentioned my Wine Predator blog in a list of 10 wine blogs worth celebrating, Julia Smith of A Piece of My Mind spotlighted me in a list of 13 blogs, and Ana from Anais mentioned this blog also. But Jo was the only one who also did a you-tube video! Yes she did, using photos of me from the trip to Portugal that I won on her blog last October.
via Wine Predator
HOW TO JOIN IN and PLAY THE 3:15 EXPERIMENT POETRY GAME!
- Begin at 3:15 AM on August 1st so set your alarms THIS SATURDAY JULY 31) and WRITE SOMETHING! Continue waking and writing each day until August 31!
- You may write any length, style, form, content, voice, rhythm, etc.
- DO NOT EDIT your work. As Danika Dinsmore puts it, “This is raw stuff, baby.” That’s the experiment part of the experiment! Edit, collage, break apart the poems later for whatever purpose you choose LATER, but please SHARE THE RAW STUFF on the 3:15 experiment website once the experiment is over.
- I recommend you follow Danika’s suggestion not to read what you have written until the month is over. You’ll be surprised!
- TIP: do not use a felt tip pen unless you don’t care about ink stains on your bed. Many a poet has fallen asleep in the middle of writing.
- If you can, stay in bed! As Danika puts it, “Ride that dream state, that precarious point between sleeping and waking and sleeping.
Which reminds me–I’ve typed up my 2009 poems and published several of them here, but never did get around to posting them on the 3:15 Experiment website for all to see!
In 1993, Danika Dinsmore aka The Accidental Novelist was working with Bernadette Meyer at Naropa and they decided to do a poetry experiment writi
ng at 3:15am to see what the writing would be like when you’re in a hynopompic/hypnogogic state. A few other students were invited and the 3:15 Experiment was born. It’s now 17 years old and I am inviting you to participate in this year’s experiment! If you’re on facebook, you can fan the page and sign up for the event or sign up on the 3:15 website.
Above is a video of the 3:15am poem posted below and here’s a link to another 3:15 poem about writing at 3:15. There’s lots of 3:15 Experiment poems on this blog as well as a thorough collection at the 3:15 Experiment site. If you like to read and own books, and not just read poetry online, Danika and I edited a 3:15 Experiment book, between sleeps with poems from 24 poets from around the world who wrote from 1993-2005.
3:15am Weds Aug 10, 2005
this writing practice
in the middle of the
night
at 315
is a lesson in
impulse
this is not a time to
think so hard but of
first thoughts not
thoughts on thoughts
at 315 in the morning
you’re too sleepy to
bother to do anything
else–and if you
do think too hard
casting about your mind
searching for something
to write about
rejecting this idea and that
you will be up for
too long
you will never get
any sleep
you will never
catch any poems
either
For more poetry, most written when awake, jump on the Poetry Train!
art predator 