But First Dear Reader, A Note To You:
How are all of you doing? Woe is me, because I have been sick all week! And sleep has been restless. No one likes waking at 3AM to deal with a stuffy nose, but there was something interesting about catching (feverish) glimpses of the world late at night.
So, here are some poems I wrote in the middle of the night, while drinking mint tea until I could go back to sleep.
I scribbled the first drafts of these in longhand, as bursts and fragments in my notebook. After revisiting these notes with the (exhausted) clarity of daytime and editing them (very heavily), I decided that there were three poems in here. 3 AM. 3 poems. Let’s begin.
3 AM Poems
1.
lonely hour
the ribs of the night
grow out and wide around
these vacant places
faraway
white stars
gleam from the slick mouth of the dark
here and there
a weak light
flashes
through the soundless, black thickets
as though the shadows
parted their hair
to reveal a long, pale neck.
2.
3AM. i wake up in a place
where tomorrow has not yet happened
the alarm on the nightstand
has not yet rung
the newspaper is not at the door
the milk has not arrived
the kettle is cold, empty
the tea is yet to be made
the songbirds are quiet
i am awake
but i have not yet become.
3.
sleepless again
i switch on the small light
i heat water on the stove
i step into the cold air of the balcony
touch the wrinkled fabric
of a day that has been wrung out
beaten on flat stone
and squeezed dry
it’s late
the hours hang off the clothesline
i listen to them flap in the wind.
i am awake
but i have not yet become.
The past week, I remembered this tip from Joyce Carol Oates’ Masterclass on writing:
Which is to write in compromised states of mind, like when you’re sick, tired, sleepy or feverish.
Writing this way, she suggests, can bring out new or surprising ideas, especially when you revisit them at a later point. At the time I wasn’t sold: I’m pretty non functional when I’m sleepy and even more so when I’m sick. No way I could write anything of substance!
But there I was, awake and shivering at 3AM. And I thought to myself: if Joyce Carol Oates swears by it, there’s got to be something to it after all.
Talk to me in the comments: Do any of you write when you are in ‘compromised’ states of mind? And did the results surprise you?
Before You Go…
If you’d like to support my newsletter, you could consider sharing this piece, dropping a comment or subscribing. If you’re feeling generous, pledging a paid subscription or making a one-time donation on Kofi would make my day! Whichever way you decide to support A Poem A Week, I appreciate you greatly.
Finally, here’s what I’ve been enjoying on Substack this week:
‘She borrowed my shorts and found a fingernail in the pocket’ by
‘Read this if you’re terrified’ by
I’ll be back with a new poem next week. Until then, take care.
Love,
Anagha
I am sitting here writing my own poem, consumed by my life. I open my inbox and read these amazing pieces, filling me with a soothing relief that I am no longer the only one I know who woke at 3am to write a poem.
Ah, those restless hours I know them well. Love the image of the ribs of night.