Monday Potes: more 3:15ness

More middle-of-the-night workings from this year’s 3:15 Experiment Aug 3, 2010 Vancouver, BC measuring the good people of the universe their birth    their celestial footprint when she left she became star dust arriving to see the aftershock travelling unladen     as a dying wish granted we sped past the farmlands what’s left of them in the urban creep fresh blueberries blocks from the highway the super highway the burning desire sun stroke us down     past the islands ferry hopping                        past the passengers en route from their holiday get away     gotten     the stars      we too become star dust     memories it is the only thing to become when all is said and done make me a shooting star spotted by farmers across the galaxy looking up...

Monday Potes: 3:15 Rides Again

I JUST finished typing up my 3:15 poems from this August. This may be a record for me. Usually I finish a few months before the next round. What was so amazing, though, is I barely remember writing the last several poems. As well, as the month went on I obviously had a harder and harder time staying awake (the writing grew barely legible) and the work got a bit more surreal. Below is one of my favourite poems from the month. I remember I was reading a dystopian novel at the time where they couldn’t see stars. Stars were the stuff of myths. So, without stars, what would poets compare their lover’s eyes to? Aug 20, 2010 – 3:15 AM Vancouver, BC without the stars the life of us is a very lonely place of singular miracles spiders without wings but...

Gwendolyn Alley’s Middle of the Night Poems

I know I’m not the only one who has been urging Gwendolyn Alley to publish a collection of her poems. And now she has done it, created a moving story, over years of participating in the 3:15 Experiment, with this collection of poems from the middle of the night for her mother and young son. I met Gwendolyn at the Taos Poetry Circus in 2000. At that time, The 3:15 Experiment had been running for 7 years and had been growing each year. The Taos Poetry Circus became and annual trek for both of us, and she became part of the cycle of experimenters. Gwendolyn’s unflagging enthusiasm and dedication drew us closer together and she became one of our core “cognizanti” – co-editing the between sleeps 3:15 anthology and hosting a 3:15 Fiesta in...

Monday Potes: from 3:15

From this year’s experiment. This is the first 3:15 poem I’ve ever written from a hospital room. I had to take my husband in one night. (He’s fine, btw. He had a nasty virus.) Aug 4, 2010 Vancouver General Hospital Vancouver, BC the moon is red like a sci-fi planet surreal in the night out the emergency taxi window three cats to the wind then all windows vanish and replace themselves w/white hum disembodied voices test for cures charts mark the anaesthetic blocks to your hands and feet you’re the patient under the sheet you have a fever of 101˚ you ask if you are dead not yet on the TV a man kills 8 in Connecticut but you are safe for one more red moon rise             more red blood sun the plasma rays reach out touch earth skin heat it like...

Fragments at 3:15

17 more days until the 2010 3:15 Experiment begins! Every year you think it may be the last, but you can’t help yourself. You must write. It’s like playing the same numbers on a lottery ticket each week. That poetic gold may come. You succumb. You buy a magic journal and pen. You set your alarm. You are a 3:15 warrior. This year I know is gonna be awesome. I can just feel it in me bones. I JUST finished typing up all my entries from last year and I pulled out a few fragments to share. The logic and wisdom of 3:15 half-dreamness. It never gets old. from 3:15 it’s too hot to jump through hoops and dog biscuits make more sense than love ~ ~ ~ dream saboteurs keep me locked in an office of noncommitment ~~~ the Doctor says make happy before you fall...