17 more days until the 2010 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 asleep make a
subconscious stew of feelings
of peace and love I thought
this is me in my happy place
and still guns pointed at me
as if my blood would stop
a war
~~~
I bet no one but insanity
knows what it’s like to run amok
~~~
If all our moments came back
to haunt us, where would
they sleep?
Moments moping under the
accelerator, biding time in the kitchen
~~~
All edible agents
are drawn and quartered, distributed
w/out much fanfare.
Placing the lower quarter of an
idea in his mouth, he declared
all originality sin.
~~~
drawings that are purposeful
that show the ring to royalty
and unobstructed lustre offsets
become angles of the revolution
~~~
don’t go into the light I’ve decided,
no, no, stay right here eat
sausage w/lentil soup. be at
the poker game, mind games, keep
your mind bending it’s exercise
stupid, this thinking. buy
gas masks. visit Hawaii. Look for
a private island to return to, or live
in peace. Go north. Kick a
snowman. brush your teeth.
~~~
what to do with a husband
what to do with fondue
~~~
everyone dressed to the nines
except me
about six-and-a-half.
~~~
my details like dust mingle in space
every time I look out now I see space
I see us in it hurtling around the
sun centripetal force and here I am
a universe of universes talking
to you my random formations
hurtling in their proper places
around the sun all of us me too.
~~~
I am a triangle maiden
mother crone (w/out the
mother) a childless triangle
an escape artist
put your love in a box
in a window on the curb
Chalk on sidewalk
hopscotch come home
I almost flew away
I could have if
I had enough speed
you can’t roll a triangle
you can’t plant
a triangle seed.
~~~
The 3:15 Experiment has a FACEBOOK PAGE. Check out the participants, cheer each other on, get the best advice from old hats, chew some 3:15 fat.
Oh, thanks a lot, Danika…I wasn’t going to do it this year, and then I had to read this! Because you’re right, it’s like playing lotto numbers…what if THIS is the YEAR where you spew out something really neat?
“what to do with a husband
what to do with fondue”
indeed!
Linda
I’m evil.
But it’s so true – if I didn’t participate I’d wonder what gems went undiscovered.
I can’t wait to see what you come up with this year! Those are memorable 🙂
@Meesh – it’s what’s great about the experiment. you never know what random phrasings will emerge.
Dog biscuits – love it:-)
Looking forward to your poems in 3:15 this year Danika. I passed this year because I have an ongoing eye infection.