I decided to share this 3:15 Experiment poem not because its one of my favourites or for its fine literary quality, but because it is such 3:15 language… that and I don’t remember writing it!
I remember writing, I recall my hand moving by some force, but I don’t recall any of these words (and some I’ve had to interpret as they were illegible), where they came from, or to what they were referring – other than the fact that my husband went bike-camping on Mayne Island and saw views of islands.
This is something that continually fascinates me about the experiment, that I could actually physically write, but not be conscious while doing it.
August, 8, 2009
I have frozen in this
finite heat. the islands,
the islands have mass and must wait.
temptation. the islands have both the
call and response. we were there.
Witnesses may always refuse -
then we’re stuck hungrily
hiring the land.
I started on land & ended on air
I swallowed the clues
ingested as my own DNA
The island lines up
my timing near-perfect
Bring her in. Bring them
time for a game
a test of time.
The pieces are mulled over
the den gone. Civilized votes any
a circular witness : a time beast
The water comes. The room is
occupied. We have the presence
of salt to slow them down.
And eyes on the backs
of our heads.
My favourite thing about it is the random word “milquetoast” that appears in the middle of the poem. In my journal I had started a new page and written that at the top, then drew a line underneath it.
You can still JOIN in the madness… there are 20 days left to participate in the 3:15 Experiment.
HOW TO DO THE 3:15 EXPERIMENT:
* Begin at 3:15 AM on August 1st (so set your alarms on JULY 31) . Continue each day until August 31.
* You may write any length, style, form, content, voice, rhythm, etc.
* DO NOT EDIT your work. This is raw stuff, baby. That’s part of the experiment. You are welcome to edit, collage, break apart the poems later for whatever purpose you choose, but please SHARE THE RAW STUFF with the rest of the group here or on the website once the experiment is over.
* (Optional) Do not read what you have written until the month is over, except to skim the work to make sure everything is legible.
TIPS: 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 help it, don’t even get out of bed! The point is to ride that dream state, that precarious point between sleeping and waking and sleeping.
(This is the first year I have broken the “optional” rule and shared poems during the month. )