Poetry Train Monday - 166 - You Reached Out

Les McKeown Week wraps up here at A Piece of My Mind with this poem written a week ago for the 3:15 Experiment.


How to participate in the 3:15 Experiment

Starting on the night of July 31/Aug. 1, set your alarm for 3:15 am, wake up, write a poem in the midst of your sleepiness and go back to sleep. Repeat each night for the month of August.

Visit the originators of the project for more information:

Danika Dinsmore

Gwendolyn Alley

For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!



















You Reached Out


When I first read about
Your ordeal
I felt as though
My girlhood joy
Had contributed to your
Thirty years of torment

At first
When I gazed once again
Upon your face
From those old photos
When I realized
What had happened
I looked down
I saw blood on my hands

I wish all of those
Girlish hearts
Had been enough to shield you
But I'm grateful
That one woman's heart
Was your haven
That your son
Helped you to see
That boys should be cherished

You spoke against your attacker
But no one would listen
How could a boy
Ward off a predator
Who'd built such a web of terror
Who carved misery
Into so many psyches

You grabbed your own life back
From the chasm's edge
I know that's why
My girlish heart
Thrilled to you
When you gazed into the camera
And reached out

Reached out

Somewhere inside me
I knew that pain lurked
Somewhere inside you
But I also recognized
The courage
You have shown
Have always shown
In the face of it all

© Julia Smith, Aug. 15, 2010

Poetry Train Monday - 165 - Expecting Someone Altogether Different

Last week I mentioned my husband's suggestion that I write a sexy poem. And several of you wondered if I'd written one.

Here it is - it may actually be more romantic than sexy, but who's quibbling?



















Expecting Someone Altogether Different


On my day off from work
I threw on my shapeless
Comfy black pants
My slightly-too-big
Cotton top
My grass-stained garden clogs

I shuffled into the car
To pick you up from work
And because the timing
Had been so close
With Mom not knowing
If she'd be back from the store
If you'd have to call a cab
I parked the car
I went in the store

With my day-off-from-work
Unwashed hair
Stained clogs
Shapeless clothing

How many women
I thought to myself
Would enter their
Husband's workplace
Looking like this?

When you saw me
Your eyes lit up
Your smile was not
For the customer before you
And she could tell
She turned to look
I'm sure she was expecting
To see someone
Altogether different
Attached to the smile
To the look
You gave me

© Julia Smith / Aug. 14, 2010

How to participate in the 3:15 Experiment

Starting on the night of July 31/Aug. 1, set your alarm for 3:15 am, wake up, write a poem in the midst of your sleepiness and go back to sleep. Repeat each night for the month of August.

Visit the originators of the project for more information:

Danika Dinsmore

Gwendolyn Alley

For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!

Poetry Train Monday - 164 - I Love Your Desire

So far, so good with The 3:15 Experiment.

The 3:15 Experiment? What's that, again?

Starting on the night of July 31/Aug. 1, set your alarm for 3:15 am, wake up, write a poem in the midst of your sleepiness and go back to sleep. Repeat each night for the month of August.

I haven't set my alarm at all for this event. I seem to wake up naturally at about that time anyway. Likely the originators of the event realized that people's sleep cycles do these things and set the wake-up time to coincide with it.

For today's Poetry Train, here is my eighth middle-of-the-night poem, in its raw stage, as written at 3:00 this morning.














I Love Your Desire


"What time is it?"
I ask
Returning from the bathroom
"Quarter to three"
My husband answers
Kissing me
"Time to write
A sexy poem"

- Julia Smith, 2010

For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!

For more information on The 3:15 Experiment, visit Danika Dinsmore and Gwendolyn Alley and they'll fill you in on all the details.

Poetry Train Monday - 163 - At Least

I'm taking part in The 3:15 Experiment for the first time ever.

It began back in 1993. I signed up to do it last year when I first heard about it, but I was only a few months into my acupuncture treatment, and at this point last year I was still struggling through my days with chronic pain issues.

I enjoyed reading the poems that emerged from this poetry event over at Art Predator's blog, however, and this year when it rolled around again, I made sure I was ready for it.

For more information on The 3:15 Experiment, visit Danika Dinsmore and Gwendolyn Alley and they'll fill you in on all the details.

The Coles Notes version:

Starting on the night of July 31/Aug. 1, set your alarm for 3:15 am, wake up, write a poem in the midst of your sleepiness and go back to sleep. Repeat each night for the month of August.

For today's Poetry Train, here is my first-ever middle-of-the-night poem, in its raw stage, as written at 3:30 this morning.













At Least


Tried to get home
But it had snowed
Tried to return
But the snowfall was epic
Tried to get inside
But the front of the house was plastered
Tried to clear the way
But there was no shovel
Dug in with my two hands
My two mittened hands
Snow shot up inside my sleeves
Tried to get in
Long hours ahead
Two mittened shovels

At least
The porch light was on

- Julia Smith, 2010

For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!

Photo by Steve Gallagher

Poetry Train Monday - 161 - The Snags of Life

Having spent wonderful hours in the yard this weekend, and looking forward to more on my time off this week, here's a Loop Poem inspired by my garden.

For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!














The Snags of Life

Standing in the garden
Garden opened wide
Wide enough for all
All to step inside

Treasures peek from corners
Corners beckon sweetly
Sweetly spiced and tempting
Tempting me completely

Shadows cool and knowing
Knowing boughs that wave
Waves of color flicked by breezes
Breezes gather seeds to save

Garden beckons, gathers
Gathers butterfly and bird
Bird takes refuge here
Here the snags of life are cured

© Julia Smith, 2010

Poetry Train Monday - 148 - American sentence 6

Just got back from the first of three intense evenings of choral singing:

Sunday evening rehearsal, the first with Nova Sinfonia and our guest conductor, Dr. Mark Shapiro, from New York.


Monday evening dress rehearsal

Tuesday evening - concert!











I confess I was a bit nervous all day, knowing that he would make us work hard. We're a combined choir of amateur singers ( my choir, Dartmouth Choral Society and the Chebucto Singers) and he's used to professional singers.

However, he turned out to be extremely forgiving, yet at the same time took hold of us and yanked us up to stand tall and let loose our inner divas.

For today's stop on the Poetry Train, I give you this American sentence:



First violinist introduced conductor to director - old charm.



For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!

For any of you in the Halifax area, my concert is on:


Tuesday, April 20th
St. Matthew's Church
1479 Barrington St., Halifax, Nova Scotia
7:30 pm

The concert program:

Schubert's Mass No. 2 in G major
Vaughan Williams' Antiphon from Five Mystical Songs
Schubert's Symphony No. 9 in C major

Tickets are:

$15 adults
$10 seniors
$5 students

Poetry Train Monday - 147 - Something Which He Knew and Which I Did Not

This poem began as a writing exercise from this afternoon's workshop, given by Renee Field.



For more poetry, Ride the Poetry Train!



















Something Which He Knew and Which I Did Not


I stood in the great hall
In my best doublet
My doublet stiff and musty

Sweat collected along my brow
A draft blew the tapestry behind me

I stood in the great hall
My feet both heavy as stone
Well drilled in court dances

Roland and Stuart entered
My relief loosened a loud guffaw

In the great hall, those around me
Stopped their conversations
Stopped to stare at me

I hurried to join my friends
I wiped the sweat upon one brow

In the great hall, Stuart's voice broke
It broke as he said, "There you are, old man."
Roland grabbed my arm, dragging me

Out of earshot
"We've news."

I stood in the great hall
As Stuart said, "She's here,"
"She?" I said

My heart stuck in my throat
Roland nodded toward the end of the hall

I stood in the great hall
As Roland said, "Yes
And he is also here."

Something told me not to look
Just then

In the great hall, I stood there
A glance and
I locked gazes with Guilford

Why don't I ever listen
when something tells me not to look?

I stood in the great hall
And Guilford smirked over something
Which he knew and which I did not

- Julia Smith, Apr. 11, 2010