Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT July 1st 2026

18 Comments

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read a poem “Disclosure” by Camisha L. Jones, posted below.

Our prompt was:“Write about sounds that beckon.”

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

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Please join us for our next session Monday July 13th at 6pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.

Disclosure by Camisha L. Jones

I’m sorry, could you repeat that. I’m hard of hearing.

To the cashier 

To the receptionist 

To the insistent man asking directions on the street 

I’m sorry, I’m hard of hearing. Could you repeat that?

At the business meeting 

In the writing workshop 

On the phone to make a doctor’s appointment 

I’m-sorry-I’m-sorry-I’m-so-sorry-I’m-hard-for-the-hearing

Repeat. 

           Repeat. 

Hello, my name is Sorry

To full rooms of strangers 

I’m hard to hear 

I vomit apologies everywhere 

They fly on bat wings 

towards whatever sound beckons 

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry

           and repeating

                       and not hearing

Dear (again) 

I regret to inform you 

I       am

here

Copyright © 2020 by Camisha L. Jones. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on January 3, 2020, by the Academy of American Poets.

18 thoughts on “Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT July 1st 2026”

  1. Trevor Hebert's avatar Trevor Hebert

    Different virtues, different truths

    The duality between you and I

    I do not know your struggles, nor you mine

    Yet we try to find a way to communicate on common ground

    How can I confide the time it takes to understand your demands?

    I’ve spent my life learning how to listen, how to see, how to hear your essence…

    Oh, how it would be so nice to be free and I just want to live

    Break these chains and come with me, free from worry, from contrast

    Fear of missing a sign or signal, to hear the tone you’ve taught and I,

    learned,

    to feel the vibration of your expression

    A beating heart and pure intentions is what I have to offer.

    A love in abundance, with so much to give, while we apart

    Instead of together.

    A chirp comes from a certain direction

    I spin around to pinpoint where it’s coming from and continue on my journey

    Hopefully it’s on my way to you

    Or meet somewhere in between.

    But if not, that’s okay too. I am here and I can be there,

    if you want me to.

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply
    • michele348's avatar michele348

      Such a moving piece,Trevor. Keep in mind, those with “perfect” hearing may not be able to hear at all…especially sounds coming from the heart.

      Like

      Reply
    • al3793's avatar al3793

      Trevor,

      Your speaker captures the intentionality of listening/hearing and cost involved. But there is also great benefit in responding to sounds that beckon, like communicating on common ground, connecting with another’s essence, vibration of expression, love in abundance… Responding to the chirp reminded me of the bat’s echolocation. Then there is the finding of one’s way to the other and sharing a heart beating with pure intention andf love in abundance.

      Like

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    • antoinette56's avatar antoinette56

      Reading it (instead of hearing it) I have the interesting experience of no longer thinking the speaker and the “other” are lovers or happy intimates – that word “demands” made me wonder if the other is instead someone for whom the speaker is responsible, not always happily. But isn’t that the way it is with relationship? – the good and the bad! Interesting exploration of duality and whether or not what is said is heard in the way intended. Thanks!

      Like

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  2. al3793's avatar al3793

    Sounds that Beckon

    What is the origin of the

    cacophony of sounds that

    clutter our world

    deafening our sense to

    want to hear?

    What must I do to

    impose a silence that

    silences those sounds

    so I can hear

    the Other and what

    is intended to be heard and

    know what is intended for me today.

    That silence is a gift to myself.

    It allows me to breathe –

    and breathing is essential to living

    and living would mean little if

    I could not embrace the presence of others

    and be present to them.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    • michele348's avatar michele348

      In the silence, we can hear truths…truths that guide us to discern what we value most, what we hold close to our heart. In that silence, we hear not only the beating of our own heart, but the beating of the other.

      Like

      Reply
    • antoinette56's avatar antoinette56

      I do wonder how often the word “cacophony” ended up in the writings from this prompt! (you and I certainly!) You and others made the point that breathing can usually only be done (properly) in silence; interesting to think how that manifests in our actual lives. Thank you!

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      Reply
      • al3793's avatar al3793

        Cacophony is a good word. I used it in the first poem I wrote at the in-person workshop for the cert program in 2018 with Lynne Miganos facilitating. It was a poem about the early arrival of a finches song as winter was thinking about ending. Thanks, Antoinette.

        Like

  3. rehavia6's avatar rehavia6

    Sounds that Beckon

    Unspoken words.

    A baby crying in another room.

    My favorite song on the radio of a car that drives by.

    My deceased father’s voice on my mother’s answering machine.

    A group of people laughing at a joke.

    A phone ringing with a long anticipated call

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • al3793's avatar al3793

      Lisa,

      Are unspoken words necessarily unheard? Somehow they beckon your speaker.

      I like your speaker’s authentic and touching list. They all resonate with these ears!

      Thank you.

      Andre

      Like

      Reply
    • antoinette56's avatar antoinette56

      I love lists! Anne Fadiman recently talked about lists in an interview she gave – it was interesting. One thing I didn’t hear when you read it in the session was “my mother’s answering machine,” not just any answering machine. Extra poignant… Thank you!

      Like

      Reply
      • rehavia6's avatar rehavia6

        Antoinette, I edited my piece before i posted it. That is why you did not hear the part about my mother’s answering machine which is what I meant to say to begin with. I find that most of my narrative medicine responses end up being lists. Other prompts I respond to end up being more of a poem or prose.

        Liked by 1 person

  4. michele348's avatar michele348

    About sounds that beckon~~~

    There are chaotic sounds that call the world to war, to power, to the clinking of gold coins into already filled coffers.

    But what sounds grab my attention these days in a world so full of discordant sounds?

    ~~ the cries of hungry children who haven’t eaten in days, rummaging through trash cans on dirty city streets to find something disguised as food

    ~~the wailing and screaming of survivors of earthquakes, searching for lost loved ones, buried in the rubble of disaster

    ~~the voices of all here who have been forgotten, who have been trampled upon, whose voices and pleas have been ignored

    When will all these voices be heard by those who have the ability to make positive change a reality?

    Or have those in power all gone deaf?

    Have their “hearts grown hard of hearing”?

    I pray not.

    Like

    Reply
    • antoinette56's avatar antoinette56

      I can always count on you, Michele, to bring in the ways our text and prompts are tied to the health of this world and all its inhabitants. Thank you for taking on that difficult role! Best, Antoinette

      Like

      Reply
  5. antoinette56's avatar antoinette56

    I learned to listen to the heart, in class, with recordings, on my classmates, on patients.

    My stethoscope (usually cold) resting on people’s chests. I learned not to hold the bell and diaphragm, that my knuckles could crack softly and be heard, as if belonging to the patient not me. I learned clothes can rustle, chest hair spark: a cacophony of chest wall intrusion.

    And I learned the rhythm (isn’t it amazing? we are all basically the same S1, S2, opening sounds, flow murmurs…and yet all unique too, no two timbres exactly the same, even the geography of ribs and sternal notch leading to changed sounds) and its anomalies.

    But then someone told me to listen as if the heart were speaking – a heart that had loved, been opened and closed, broken and healed. And it really changed the music I heard. I found myself hovering over each person, aware all at once of us as two people, joined by a slender wire of sound.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • michele348's avatar michele348

      antoinette…and wherein lies what should be the core of medicine…realizing that who sits or lies before you is a unique individual, with a collection of stories and experiences that impact their life…emotionally and physically. I applaud you for holding that concept when you practice medicine.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

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