In celebration if Jim’s birthday (he would have been 74 today), here’s an early unpublished poem from the archive. You can also hear Jim reading the poem (recorded in 1968 in Marshalltown, Iowa). Listen.


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

©James Humphrey Trust

Each time I venture into the world of creative endeavor to share my husband's legacy, I feel elated and renewed.  This time I would be sharing several appropriate poems I chose from Naked, and three of Jim's earlier works (In Pursuit of Honour, Paying the Price and The Athlete) with young adults from the Sacramento County Youth Detention Facility.  I brought 21 copies of each of the titles to be added to a cheery new library space both male and female juveniles could borrow from on a weekly basis.  Eleven young women came single-file into the setting of plastic chairs, while I faced them in a padded swivel chair, a bare table beside me with Jim's books selectively displayed offering me comfort and likewise offering kindness and friendship to my audience.  During the 40 minutes of talking serious biography and reading what I sensed the most moving, life-sustaining poems from Jim's imagination, I heard not a pin drop.  Afterward, there were sensitive questions and even signs of personal caring.  An hour later, twelve young men from maximum security were ushered into the same area for a 40-minute session and again I shared Jim's life and poetry with these sensitive incarcerated human beings.  When the final boy was strip-searched on exiting, I felt weak all over, but gratified that only God knows how, if, or when any minuscule piece of life or love I imparted will make a positive difference in those precious teenage lives.