A reading to celebrate the work of poet James Humphrey (1939-2008)
James’s wife Norma and son Saroyan will read select poems from James’s work ranging from early
work (1964) to 2006. It’s a celebration of the poet, 10 years since his passing. Norma is a retired
librarian and, since 2011, a resident of Sacramento. Saroyan is a photographer and graphic designer
and has lived in San Francisco since 1988.
James Humphrey bio:
Poet, teacher, artist, athlete, and champion for victims of child abuse, James Humphrey (1939-
2008) never fit a pedestrian description. Born in Iowa and raised throughout the Midwest, Humphrey
lived most of his life enduring physical pain. A victim of brutal child abuse from ages 5-16, Humphrey
began writing as a teenager to gain balance in his life and search for universal joys and truths.
Humphrey compressed emotion and experience into concise free-verse poems that defied the
colloquial writing of the traditionalists and was associated with the twentieth-century expressionist
movement in American poetry. A graduate of Brown University, Humphrey published 17 books with a
final collection, published in 2006. Living on the East Coast since 1970, Humphrey’s legacy is archived
at the John Hay Memorial Library Archive at Brown. Humphrey died at home in Yonkers, NY, on May
21, 2008, at age 69.
As friend Charles Bukowski (1920-1994) once said of Humphrey’s poems, “…believe them. He’s lived
them. He knows that pain and suffering bloom like eternal flowers. He knows that trying is the one
thing we have left.”
A Letter to One of My Poetry Students
Sure
poetry is
bigger than
you
Simply
so
is life
But go after it
try for more
Who put you in charge
anyway?
Grab a hold
Let it
come; let
it come
It’s there
Open
your eyes
Look out
blink once or
twice
concentrate
touch
yourself
Feel
something different
for a change
Surprise yourself
Work at a
solution
Plant something and
help it
grow
Can you hear
me in
there?
I’ll love you, if
you’ll love
me
Jump aboard
It’s
great from
here
Let’s swim in
cold, clear
water
Build a fire
Eat clams
drink
wine
Let the ghosts go
this time
out
And leave the rainbows
where they
belong
Laugh a little —
blossom
Thinking
before sleep —
warm
in each other’s
arms
How the whole
world could
love like
this
But for God’s
sake,
quit crying about
how rotten it
is
for
you
You’ve too much
to lose this
way
And so little to
gain —
even
if
you
never
write
another
poem
for
as
long
as
you
live
James Humphrey
Marshalltown, Iowa, 1968
