poetry out loud

Glory Days

September 8, 2024 2 Comments

Just the slightest droop
in the leaf of the phlox.
Its tender blossom holding up,
but not for long.
A sudden chill reduces the dahlias petal by petal
to ragged pink flags.

And there, see, the delicate African daisies
suddenly resigned, curling sleepily into themselves,
exhausted debutantes after the ball, when yesterday
they held the ballroom captive.

The valiant cosmos, once reaching to the sky,
Their sturdy stems succumbing to the driving wind,
These last holdouts,
These Olympians of the garden
Roundly defeated.

Listen. Lean in.
A clock is ticking
somewhere.
It ticks not for the garden.
But for us.

~~ Tricia McCallum

The Sadness of Her Sewing

September 1, 2024 1 Comment

There she remains,
In the folds of her nightgown
Tucked deeply in her bedside drawer,
Releasing the scent of her Chantilly.

And here, in her treasured clip-on earrings
Of aurora borealis rhinestones,
All the colors of the northern lights,
She explained.

And perhaps most,
Up there on the closet shelf,
Her well-worn sewing basket,
A frayed tapestry on its lid of
A young woman’s gentle face.
There, inside, among the bobbins of thread,
Mother’s tarnished metal thimble,
Its tiny nubs worn smooth from use.

Remembering how whenever she mended,
I would hear her sigh deeply
As the thimble’s cap clicked
Against her flying needle,
Her impatience palpable,
So desperate was she to be done.

Knowing now it reminded her of
Being pulled from school at the age of nine,
Pressed into piecework for a gruff Glasgow furrier,
Stitching together heavy coats in dingy rooms
From piles of animal pelts,
Never to return to school,
Or childhood,
Again.

~~ Tricia McCallum

Not Today.

August 25, 2024 No Comments

No Heart

I don’t have the heart
for the news that demands
daily
a suspension of disbelief,
a numbing disconnection
that I am no longer willing to offer up.

Today, a tsunami rising
suddenly
on some faraway ocean.
Tonight, children herded into unmarked vans.
Tomorrow, the Yulan Dog Massacre.

Just give me robot dogs,
microchipped to respond.
To jump up on your bed via remote command,
even rest their heads on your pillow alongside.
And if one’s tiny titanium paw should trod on a nail,
there will be no pain.

None at all.
Only an error message
flashing in electric pink neon,
reminding us to pay attention.
To listen up here:
Something needs fixed.

~~ Tricia McCallum

You Could Be Anywhere.

August 18, 2024 1 Comment

Someone asked me recently if I ever prayed. It prompted this…

Ways to Pray

There are a million ways to pray.
Not one of has anything to do with an oak pew
Or a frocked man prompting from a pulpit on high.

Nothing special is needed.
No preparation or special equipment.
The quiet is no prerequisite.
Not solemnity
Nor a bowed head.
A seat on a New York subway will do.
A carnival ride at full tilt.
Or the middle of nowhere, so still
Your breath is its accompaniment.

We think more must be required, so we hesitate.
We edit.
We borrow from scripts of parchment.
But like so much
The opposite is true.

A prayer’s success lies in it being
Entirely and unapologetically
Your own,
Unshackled by dogma,
The counting down of rosary beads,
The mouthing of others’ perceptions.

Be anywhere.
Think of what matters.
Start with the words I wish.
Consider I hope.
End with I tried.

~~ Tricia McCallum

Pinnacles

August 11, 2024 No Comments

What is it in me

What is it in me
that needs to tell you this?

Never More.

It will never be more summer than this.
This moment.
Every petal and bough, every bloom at its most beautiful
in hue, texture, depth of colour.
Nature at her most potent.

She shows off.
Tomorrow begins the sad inevitable decline,
Her gradual descent toward less.
But today,
Oh, today,
Drink it in,
Every last sip.
Such glory cannot possibly last.

A little pixel dust… my nickname for my micro poems…

Screen Tests

I’d run home after the movies
To act out each scene,
Word for word,
With accents and flourishes,

Mom watching in her housedress
At the little yellow kitchen table,
Smoking.

In. Coming.

My druthers would be you
Coming through the door
Soaking wet,
In that fabulous old trench
We bought for a steal,
Brimming over with stories
For tea.

Interloper

And just when I think you’re
Listening
I turn and see you
Enraptured
By the girl in the next booth.

Poetry Rhythms & Revelry

June 11, 2024 No Comments

An Evening of Poetic Expression with Tricia McCallum

When? Saturday, June 15th at 7:30 pm

Where? WACC, 475 Whitevale Rd

Join us for a captivating night of verse and vibrance as acclaimed poet

Tricia McCallum hosts her annual Poetry Out Loud event. This year’s gathering promises to be a melodic feast for the senses, where the written word takes center stage.

Tricia, known for her wit and way with words, will delight attendees with a curated selection of her latest works. Her poems explore the depth of human experience with equal parts humour and poignancy.

But the evening is not just about Tricia’s poetry! We invite you to share a poem that holds a special place in your heart, one that resonates deeply or brings you joy. Whether it’s a beloved classic or an original piece, this is a chance to celebrate the power of poetry together.

Before the event, ponder the verse you’d like to contribute and email Tricia at writer@triciamccallum.com to let her know you’ll be participating.

Get ready to be inspired, moved, and uplifted in this one-of-a-kind community event, which weaves Tricia’s talents with our shared love for poetry. Remember, spaces are limited, so secure your spot today!

Tricia's Poetry reading on June 17 at the Whitevale Arts and Culture Centre

June 8, 2023 No Comments

Poetry Reading and Sharing event with poet Tricia McCallum

When? Saturday, June 17 at 7:30 pm
Where? the WACC, 475 Whitevale Rd

Why is it different?
Tricia McCallum, our resident poet, will not only share some of her poems, but she is inviting you to share a poem that has a special meaning for you.

Before this June rendez-vous, you have the opportunity to think ahead about which poem you will choose … It may be the poem that first springs to mind whenever you hear the word poetry, or a poem that comforts you each and every time you reflect on it.
Tricia plans to share a variety of her poems. And as anyone who reads Tricia’s work knows, she shares with us regularly online, what she writes about is … everything.
If you wish to participate in this poetry sharing event, email her at writer@triciamccallum.com

Why did I not grab every moment
and make it sing,
look into people’s faces and find stories there
to take me into my old age.
We don’t take the time,
Do we?
Blithely we pass unexplored roads,
agonizing instead
about the trappings of our lives,
the matched sets of things.
(For Keeps – excerpt)

Download the event flyer.