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Proust Questionnaire Challenge--Poems

Angeline

Angeline

Poet Chick
Joined
Mar 11, 2002
Posts
27,049
1. What is your idea of perfect happiness?

FULFILLMENT
by pelegrino

My wife, my mother, and my dog,
and in the fire a big log,
some bread to keep the spirit in,
water of course, to keep things clean.

My good old friends for endless talk,
in summer nights my lonely walk,
my memories becoming songs,
socialism curing social wrongs.

Health and philosophy in hope,
going even higher than the top,
smile to a joke, let the best win,
the same for every human being.
 
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2. What is your greatest fear?

Visiting Hours
by greenmountaineer

Residents scrubbed medium pink,
as rare as sirloin was last Sunday,
sit in wheelchairs and barely hear
Susie with what’s his name….Jeff
who said he has more chores to do
before his tee time under his breath

while Mrs. White whose skinny chin
bobs up and down on her thyroid,
wakes up long enough to say hello
to someone passing she doesn’t know

and Charles wearing his Christmas tie
he always wears on visiting day
wondered if the price of gas
this Sunday was too much again.
 
Last edited:
3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?


Charybdis and the River
by legerdemer

Do you hear the gurgling river?
All the molecules of oxygen and hydrogen
dance their special dance, choreographed,
smoothing stones that have themselves
danced through the years,
washing memories clean,
while wearing deeper grooves into the banks.

White water foams with inquietude.
I, on the other hand, am the undertow,
placid and smooth above,
disturbing and dark beneath,
drawing down, roiling,
dangerous, unpredictable.
The soothing sound hides
the yawning maw that
swallows without trace.

All is so still above:
draws with its languor
the unsuspecting heart.

Remember me, I murmur:
I am the scar,
the brand still raw.
 
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3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?


Gravity Always Wins
by legerdemer

Mute days, when the wrong words well up, jumbled.
When the right words came, no one stayed to hear them.
… and the world continued to spin, oblivious, on its axis.

Days spent invisible, shoulders hunched, hiding
pen screaming on paper what voices whisper:

Even if the coin's worth rises, it's still only a coin.

And when you passed yourself
from one hand to another,
hoping love would shine you up,
make you feel worth the copper—
to know another, gaze into their eyes
from three inches away—
has instinct polished you well,
or served you rusted?

How many hands do you need to find yourself?

Fate, that grinning eager child, placed the coin
on the edge of that smooth funnel
watched it roll down in slow circles,
then faster and faster.
As circles tightened the coin rode down
inexorably,
to that hole in the bottom
where all coins fall

a one-way trip
to nowhere.
 
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4. What is the trait you most deplore in others?


Lack of common sense
by UnderYourSpell

For goodness sake stop
sending me Private messages
on Facebook saying not to add
such and such a person
because they are a hacker,
will steal all my info,
spam my friends and pee on my hard drive!!
It's a bloody hoax
that's being going round since dial up
and has grown whiskers.
If you haven't got the sense to realise it
I'm afraid I shall look dimly on your intellect!
 
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5. On what occasion do you lie?
by Tzara

I lie down to sleep.

After a difficult day,
my body wants to curl
in on itself for protection

and introspection, and
sometimes I just want to be
alone.

But logicians want to pry

into who cuts my hair
or what color shirt I was wearing
given their five crafted statements,
and they want to point fingers

at me when I have been inaccurate
or emotional or factually wrong.

So, here I lie—

I am a 42 year-old, grey-eyed male
who has scaled Aconcagua
without supplemental
oxygen. I date

Charlize Theron, am
great friends with Slavoj Žižek

and I own a satellite, a Kona coffee plantation,
three obscure Warhols,
and a 1952 Delage convertible.

Now, dammit, Chloë—will you marry me?
 
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5. On what occasion do you lie?


White Lie
by Sinseria

Life …
The grand spectrum of misery
It gives and it takes without reprieve

Like Shakespeare’s royal tragedies
Or the apocalypse of Lord Byron himself
As his “Darkness” was told
“The bright sun was extiguish’d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space”

As all life to misery is well known
And so her stories told
Standing toe to toe
With the tales of old

Here is a woman
Standing frayed with grace
On the hands of time
Holding the scribed testament
That reads of her life

Scribed as if by a child
Through death and time
As a lonely memoir of her soul
To calm her reckless mind
But life isn’t kind

Life …
Love …
They are the greatest lies
Banished …exiled
In a wasteland of dreams
Like Romeo and Juliet
A fairy tale to love
That could withstand an eternity

But as a man, woman
Or even child
We must face the truth
That maybe even love
Isn't real

And so she scribes
Every white lie
From the longing of her life
As she cries
 
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5. On what occasion do you lie?
by Angeline

1.
How they've slipped
from my nimble tongue,
the little white omissions
of early years, a lamp I didn't
break, the ring I didn't take
(then stood behind the drapes.
Great plan. What a flake.)

2.
Some years pile falsehoods
like snowflakes. I'm staying
at a friend's, I'm going
to a dance. I'm pure Mama,
still. There's no chance
I'd go, drink, smoke, fuck--
I'll say anything to keep
the spinning plates aloft,
but we crash anyway. The fall
of truth is like a noose.

3.
The biggest lie of all
hurts me to this day
and now that you're all gone
what should it matter if
I made a promise to a dying man
who now is dead? No one
is left to say our secrets
were so terrible, no one
but me holding this bag
of arcane fraud and flummery,
orphaned of all but memory.
 
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6. Which living person do you most despise?


A No Brainer
by GuiltyPleasure

My country t’was of thee, once proud and free
Now badly bruised and thoroughly ill used,
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.

How much damage done before twenty twenty?
The land I love is puzzled and confused,
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.

No bills passed nor progress made we all agree.
Foreign dignitaries watch it all, amused
My country t’was of thee, once proud and free

He surrounds himself and looks to family
for council all badly uninformed, misused.
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.

As the noose tightens Trump dreads the third degree,
scandal, fraud and treason are all interfused.
My country t’was of thee, once proud and free.

Trump spoke often of his need for loyalty
but where’s the justice? Oh yes! He was recused.
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.

Soon all he will have left us with is debris,
No Donald Trump, you are guilty as accused!
My country t’was of thee, once proud and free,
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.
 
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10. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?


Guesswork
by AlwaysHungry

She knows just how to fan my flames,
And does it really matter if I play
A gray December to her budding May?
There may be risk in lovers' games.

A chance encounter brought the spark
That lit the giddy tinder in my heart.
Through blurry eyes I watch my counterpart
To read her visage in the dark.

The greatest pain is not to know:
A hint of cruelty, or feckless youth?
Emotions may not heed the rules of truth.
So is my lover friend, or foe?
 
Last edited:
12. Who are your favorite writers?


Frank
by Angeline

I love your crooked nose,
your glacial opaque eyes.
Your mouth is quirked
in the old photos. Maybe
you want tea and hyacinths
that teach you how to love,
maybe you want to kiss
that man smiling at you,
maybe you want a drink.

You give me the city I love,
the city of my childyears, brash
and cacophonous with humming
traffic, cracking jackhammers, filthy
rain or snow and still buildings climb
like unsettled giants, elbow to elbow,
little room and Oh! a beautiful
woman collapsed right there
on the sidewalk, a lady died!

Your words make me gasp,
they blink on and off laughing
or in the solemn hour lay
beneath a brutally beautiful
night sky that pins you
to the ground until some numberless
noon when hapless souls go riding
on trains, striding past horror,
buzzing with hope or searching
for a cheap blue plate special.
 
Last edited:
13. Who is your hero of fiction?


June aka Offred
by GuiltyPleasure

I’m just rereading Atwood,
been meaning to for ages.
A TV show that’s that good
now finds me turning pages.

The protagonist called June
In a dystopian world
The wealthy are immune
To harsh rules that man unfurled.

Through man’s ignorance and fate
wars begin and rifts appear.
Drastic drop in new births rate
Introduces womanly fear.

Distorted scriptures taken in,
disrupting lives and breaking souls.
Gender is their only sin,
freedom is their final goal.

Fertile women lose their right,
become slaves to “save the race”
June, now Offred, has to fight
for survival. Watch this space.

Offred finds she’s not alone,
contacts tell her there’s still hope.
Flowers grow from seeds she’s sown,
she’s not the only misanthrope.
 
Last edited:
14. Who are your heroes in real life?
by GuiltyPleasure

Today it is the fighters.
Long hours in heavy gear
that only a fool would choose.
Each one watchful for the wind kindled
flare-up, the lightening strike, the fallen
comrade and each has his – or her – appointed task.
Front line, face to face with an unpredictable
enemy that dies only to leap up, twice as threatening.
Aerial, sometimes flying blind through thick clouds
of shrouding smoke to drop ammunition,
water or red streams of Fosscheck, often before
the enemy’s march to retard its progress; hopefully
subdue it altogether.
Behind enemy lines a small army seems to be bent
on subterfuge, starting fires against all common sense
but these are raiders building backfires
designed to deprive the enemy.
These are my heroes in real life.
fighting to save farm, home, smallholding, business
without the loss of life.
 
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15. What is your greatest regret?
by UnderYourSpell

I didn't look after my teeth,
my pearly whites now reside in a cup
so if you look closely beneath
just gums gleam sunny side up.

My pearly whites now reside in a cup
like stars they come out at night,
just gums gleam sunny side up
the result's not a pretty sight.

Like stars they come out at night,
there they sit with a devilish grin,
the result's not a pretty sight
and it makes for a droopy chin.

There they sit with a devilish grin
so If you look closely beneath,
and it makes for a droopy chin.
I didn't look after my teeth.
 
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15. What is your greatest regret?


Regrets of the Heart
by Piscator

Looking back, my
regrets are of omission
rather than commission.

My caution and lack of nerve
left me with naught but a
basket full of might have beens.

Which is why I must now
seize this day with you.
 
Last edited:
15. What is your greatest regret?


reunion
by Tzara

i'm sorry that i could not love you
our lives have become complicated
i wish that we could have connected
i'm sad that i dumped you in high school

this isn't the end game I wanted
perhaps we two could have been married
i know that's not likely, but somehow
that ending would seem like perfection

but here we are, joined in this court case
where you're the defendant—and i am
unwillingly forced to attack you
i prosecute—that's what my job is

and if you're convicted, i'm sorry,
that wasn't the ending i'd hoped for
i'll ask for a lenient sentence
forgive me—my job is a tough one

when you were eighteen, you were lovely
and still are, so slim and inviting
i grind my teeth asking your sentence
be three years less your good behavior

if i were you, i know i'd hate me
but you aren't me, so i am wishing
you'll love me although i have jailed you
i know, that's unreal—yet i'm hoping
 
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15. What is your greatest regret?


Striven
by greenmountaineer

Sooner than later work becomes play as in
Beth changes Dolly before she gets wet.
Sue does math tables in her head,
Frank learns how to make hospital corners
so quarters will bounce on his bed,
and as for Billy’s sweet spot at bat
top of the ninth, o and two count
he’d find it if it weren’t for the sweat.

See Dick and Jane doing their best
with a double income and picket fence
who pray that someday before they die
when there is nothing left to report
from the compartments in their minds
they will take an ocean liner
to Sydney, Hong Kong, and China,
where they will find great views from the deck.
 
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15. What is your greatest regret?


What was...
by legerdemer

I used to think I could open
any man’s book,
run my finger
along the lines,
hover over a word
let it sink in
slowly
like a balm
under layers of skin.
Feel how it tasted.
How it permeated.

Perhaps it is my own book
I wanted to open,
spread my pages wide,
feel his index finger
run down my spine.

I offered words
of cheap wisdom,
hoping that I could somehow
connect with the universe, with a single being,
tap into bloodstreams.

I’ve lost even that playscript,
and it me.

Now the words shimmer and dance,
a blur to be erased in time.
 
Last edited:
I must say that your poems make me pause to think and reread or tug at my heart or just appreciate, but that teeth poem has me doubling over with laughter.
 
Angeline said:
I must say that your poems make me pause to think and reread or tug at my heart or just appreciate, but that teeth poem has me doubling over with laughter.
Click to expand...

Isn't that false teeth poem hilarious? Only Annie - sick as she's been - could make dentures funny so my bet's on her being the author.

I haven't had the chance to go through the poems yet but this was a great challenge thanks Ange. :heart:
 
And now thanks to poem number 6 (on lies), I had to look up Slavoj Žižek (oy the accent marks!), a philosopher with no filter imho. And the guy is hilarious and clearly does not lie: most of what he says sounds brutally truthful to me.

So after reading the poem and about Slavoj all I can say is well-played poet, well-played. :)
 
Angeline said:
3. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?


Charybdis and the River

Do you hear the gurgling river?
All the molecules of oxygen and hydrogen
dance their special dance, choreographed,
smoothing stones that have themselves
danced through the years,
washing memories clean,
while wearing deeper grooves into the banks.

White water foams with inquietude.
I, on the other hand, am the undertow,
placid and smooth above,
disturbing and dark beneath,
drawing down, roiling,
dangerous, unpredictable.
The soothing sound hides
the yawning maw that
swallows without trace.

All is so still above:
draws with its languor
the unsuspecting heart.

Remember me, I murmur:
I am the scar,
the brand still raw.
Click to expand...

I'm guessing Mer, both because of the general awesomeness of the poem, and because of "swallows without trace" -- she likes to omit indefinite articles. My taste for assonance is tickled by "yawning maw."
 
Angeline said:
2. What is your greatest fear?

Visiting Hours

Residents scrubbed medium pink,
as rare as sirloin was last Sunday,
sit in wheelchairs and barely hear
Susie with what’s his name….Jeff
who said he has more chores to do
before his tee time under his breath

while Mrs. White whose skinny chin
bobs up and down on her thyroid,
wakes up long enough to say hello
to someone passing she doesn’t know

and Charles wearing his Christmas tie
he always wears on visiting day
wondered if the price of gas
this Sunday was too much again.
Click to expand...

I'm guessing GM because of the use of present tense and the abundance of given names. I know that some day there will be a Gavin. I like the irony of how casual it seems, in describing one's deepest fear.
 
Angeline said:
6. Which living person do you most despise?


A No Brainer

My country t’was of thee, once proud and free
Now badly bruised and thoroughly ill used,
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.

How much damage done before twenty twenty?
The land I love is puzzled and confused,
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.

No bills passed nor progress made we all agree.
Foreign dignitaries watch it all, amused
My country t’was of thee, once proud and free

He surrounds himself and looks to family
for council all badly uninformed, misused.
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.

As the noose tightens Trump dreads the third degree,
scandal, fraud and treason are all interfused.
My country t’was of thee, once proud and free.

Trump spoke often of his need for loyalty
but where’s the justice? Oh yes! He was recused.
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.

Soon all he will have left us with is debris,
No Donald Trump, you are guilty as accused!
My country t’was of thee, once proud and free,
Trump’s ruined us from sea to shining sea.
Click to expand...

I'm guessing Rachel Maddow for this one. The rhyming is impressive, but the poem is prosaic.
 
Angeline said:
12. Who are your favorite writers?


Frank

I love your crooked nose,
your glacial opaque eyes.
Your mouth is quirked
in the old photos. Maybe
you want tea and hyacinths
that teach you how to love,
maybe you want to kiss
that man smiling at you,
maybe you want a drink.

You give me the city I love,
the city of my childyears, brash
and cacophonous with humming
traffic, cracking jackhammers, filthy
rain or snow and still buildings climb
like unsettled giants, elbow to elbow,
little room and Oh! a beautiful
woman collapsed right there
on the sidewalk, a lady died!

Your words make me gasp,
they blink on and off laughing
or in the solemn hour lay
beneath a brutally beautiful
night sky that pins you
to the ground until some numberless
noon when hapless souls go riding
on trains, striding past horror,
buzzing with hope or searching
for a cheap blue plate special.
Click to expand...

I'm guessing Angeline for this. I have no idea who the favorite author is, but the lovely poem makes me want to read him.
 
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