Poetic Questions
Poems collected from participants in Dave Johnson’s 10*10*10 Video Workshops.
Do birds dream
of being oranges?
if a boat could marry
the sea would it lose
its anchors?
what is the average life
of a pencil sharpener?
-Dave Johnson
June 6, 1990 and already you were doomed by the game with no winners–Christ, what had it cost you?
You’re only waking now, after a lifetime of sleeping with your eyes wide open?
Who gave you permission to walk against them all like that when they were their way to all their respective days?
And if it’s you who shoved the flammables up the gutter and set them ablaze, then why do you cry at the old man thinking you’re a pyro even though you’re not?–what was he supposed to make of you?
Because that picture of you in the white tux, the one with the scowl of disapproval, the one where you’re trying like hell to make things as pleasant as possible for the girl standing next to you, don’t you think that was you too?
How could they think there was anything wrong with you when they’re the ones who concocted the bad, bad brew that was you?
And so you ask if she was whispering into your ear for you to just endure it, because she had endured it, if the old man was always going to make everything with you a zero sum game, then why did you think playing was going to get you what you wanted?
Because you didn’t know everyone loses playing such a game, or because you couldn’t resist a Pyrrhic victory you are only now waking up to regret?
—Garth Ferrante
Twilit Musings
Why did the moon float uphill
After disappearing behind the peak’s silhouette?
Why did I only see the salamander’s mud prints
After running through its puddle?
Why do my fellow countrymen & women
Have nothing in common with me?
Why does my science-programmed mind
Seek vibrant colors, fresh air and musical words?
Why do women magnetically return
To hands that bruise body and spirit?
Why does capitalism live on
When it betrays those who feed it?
Why does hail shoot down from the heavens
After the salmonberries bloom?
Why do some seeds choose to stay
Eternally blanketed under soil
Despite tender sower’s yearning to see its potential?
How are fallacies perpetuated
In the face of bald opposing facts?
Why does the rain continue to fall
Knowing the levee will break?
How did the juggling clubs
Fly up, up, up to disappear
In cirrocumulus striations?
Why did Newton’s First Law
Take you from my sphere?
Why did the orchid oversleep
Forgetting to arise and share its beauty?
Why do moonlit worries
Evaporate in the sun’s rays?
What obliges me to
Obey my phone’s beckoning,
Interrupting my daydreams?
What would contour my life
Had I missed the gift of motherhood?
What keeps optimistic expectation alive
In the face of uncontrollable uncertainty?
How would the universe survive
Without poetry?
—Enzian Family
The
Last Matinee
Did
the ticket booth know it was the last day when the couple in the matching Patagonia jackets pushed two dollars under the Plexiglas?
Did
the display case wonder about that space under the glass once filled by crisp boxes of Junior Mints, now left with fingerprints and candy crumbs?
Did
the projector spin its reel just as diligently with the hope of a premiere or swirl to a viscous stop, no longer seeking its splice?
Did
the burgundy velour seats spring to attention as they emptied, thinking they’d speak once again?
Did
the grand movie palace have the ambition to be razed into a high revenue parking lot?
Does
the valet attendant, driving Saturday night sedans under where the facade once stood,
see
the shadow of the front door give the theater manager one last tug to say: please don’t go?
Does
the air above the pavement still breathe in the arriving crowds that hurry in
and
empty just as quickly back onto the street?
Does
a theater remember watching the audience
walk
away?
Do
you remember that you never saw us again?
—Austin S. Lin
Quarantine Questions
How long does it take to forget a language you’ve learned?
Why does my fountain pen stutter when I need it to flow?
Can a person go blind from that last tiny gumdrop of sunset?
What is the homeless man shouting about outside my window?
Who brings him sandwiches now, and the occasional beer?
Why do the ravens seem even more raucous and free?
How to describe evening air so delicious and sweet?
Who else hears words in the burbling of the night fountain?
Who is awake with me under this perfect pink moon?
When will I sleep in our room with my husband again?
When will this end?
– Moira Egan
Page of Questions
Who decided that I would have nothing?
When the sway-backed horses move their jaws and stare at me with bland disinterest, have I become the landscape?
Does this bowl of a desert ringed with mountains, repeat again and again beyond the horizon?
How does the ringing of the school bell reside inside my head?
Since the ocean becomes the delta becomes the levee, should we fly out to sea carrying a sprig of oleander in our teeth?
When in their flowerpots the flowers tremble, are they contemplating their inexpressible grief?
-Devin Dougherty
Questions
(Based on Pablo Neruda’s Book of Questions)
What book knows the slope of sanity?
If light knows how to bend, can it also
swallow a globe?
When will I know how to calculate
The cadence of a dysrhythmic pace?
Do moons feel the heat
Of Earth’s anger?
Where do I find answers to
How much does truth weigh?
Whom can I run to when
Humans disintegrate to dust
And technology splinters language?
What does it take to make
Common sense sing?
Is it true that time is
Parked in the same lot
As the one, missing sock?
-Deborah Eve Grayson
April 4, 2020
Dear Dave,
here are my unanswerable questions.
Be well
—Christine
I would like to know
If I am drawing a horse
Why does it never fit on the paper?
Why do socks divorce their partners in the machine
And then ask to be wed anew?
Why does the peak on the roof love to spike clouds?
Why does the wind punish the sunshades
for not being tightened?
When I start listening to them,
why do frogs stop croaking?
Do you think you might put up this revision? It was so late for me when I sent it? If not, thank you anyway. This has been a marvelous experience, and – living in Italy – I hope you can repeat it.
Questions
What do flowers think when they bloom and see the world for the first time?
How do dolphins express their love for each other?
When do elephants forget their dead, or do they ever?
Where can one go to find a perfect cloud, and can we make one?
Why on earth or heaven does rancor win the fight over remorse?
What is the perfect equation to make golden track shoes fly?
How do polar bears endure the loneliness of hibernation or live as the snow continues to melt?
Where are the snows of yesteryear, and will they come again or slide to the bottom of the ravine?
How do horses learn empathy and compassion after witnessing the horrors humans instill?
Don’t the farm worker, the immigrant and the homeless woman have any recourse
to the sunlight and the sweet scent of April’s end? And which is harder, turning off the lamps
to see the night or not sleeping until dawn, to guarantee the new day is coming?
Why doesn’t someone provide the answers? Why don’t they guess our questions
beforehand so we can abandon the questions and rush to seek the answers?
Why do we have more than four questions. Every year we ask four questions, the same four.
Why are there more than four this year?
—Lenore Rosenberg
Song of Uncertainty
After Neruda
When I am asleep, do my thoughts
roll out to sea like little green pebbles?
…
Does the ocean dream of kissing earth,
& does the earth dream of being sky?
…
Who am I to claim love,
when I cannot know devotion?
…
What secrets do the trees whisper
in their withering green voices?
…
Will the sky overhear the gossip
of the birds, & will it heed them?
…
How do stars sweeten the dark night sky,
& for whom do they burn?
Attached is my response to episode 9.
Thanks,
—Michaela Mayer
Who knows
where the keys have collected
for those dreams where the lock won’t hold?
Have you wondered where a spent token goes
when it won’t be taken for a windfall?
If I know how to dance in the marshes
why do I trip on dry land?
And if that land should ban starlight
who will untether the fireflies?
When the mute crow finds her voice
where will she hide her songs?
How did the cormorant’s wing
learn the sun likes to dry its feathers?
Does a droplet of dew wave at the grass
when vapor ascends into heaven?
—Joan Blessing
When the world is on pause
which words can still be spoken?
Will all the words when they finally spill,
form a deluge, flood the airways?
When will I love the air again?
When bad company excites fear,
Is there any sleep to be had?
Can you reach into an adjacent square on zoom
and touch your child?
When longing grows the size of the sky,
will we settle for the embrace of clouds?
—Linda Hillman Chayes
After Pablo Neruda
What Songs Do Raspberries Sing?
What songs do raspberries sing
when the gardener has forgotten
to water them?
Does the early bird, nodding off
at her desk after lunch, ever seek out
the snail for advice?
When the sun dips below the Rockies
does it miss the humility of Nebraska?
Do fireflies destined to die
in Mason jars consider it a privilege
to have brought so much joy
to the children?
—Robert Grant
My son sat in with me on today’s Pablo Neruda workshop.
Here’s his poem:
Questions
Who made up table manners?
Will dogs eat spaghetti in the future?
Do most people like markers?
Why does a clock tick?
If Star Wars didn’t have Luke, what would happen?
Do lions eat cheetahs?
Will books be circle?
Why do spies wear sunglasses to look cool?
What if your whole life is a dream?
-Hudson, age 9
“Questions”
Are limes jealous of lemons?
Does thunder, when it cries out in anguish,
mourn the death of lightning?
Does sand hurt when engulfed by wave?
Why do clouds feel the need to obstruct
the pale sun?
Were oranges named after the color or
the color after the fruit?
Why does the Earth weave these complex mysteries?
And why do people take the striking interest to
answer the unanswerable questions?
—Bella Dail
Electric Sheep
after Pablo Neruda
Where do the stories of the war go after my grandfather dies?
Why do men kill over the periodic table of elements?
Why do the stars live too far away to visit on holidays?
Do baby goats believe in the concept of synthetic a priori?
Do beings in distant galaxies fear catching the flu?
—Meara Levezow
The Marriage of Black Holes and Snowflakes
How can I know if snowflakes sense their own beauty?
When they melt onto palms, do they marry the fortune of all?
Are the fate lines visible on the candy-striped lip of a black hole?
Is each black hole a giant toilet at the center of every galaxy?
Will they flush away the universe?
Do they hold the regrets of our ancestors?
Who will name the black holes?
Would a snowflake melt in a black hole?
—Tamra Plotnick
The Psychology Of the Inanimate
Does the faucet prefer hot water or cold?
Do the stairs prefer to go up or down?
Is my right hand jealous of my left?
Does the pan miss the omelette?
Does the omelette long for the pan?
Is the bed sad when we remove the warmth of our bodies?
—Gina A. Turner
Hello,
I’m sharing my poem of questions from this morning. Thank you for hosting these talks; they are keeping me sane here in Oregon quarantine.
Soul Color
What color does rust love the most?
Can fog see through itself in the night?
How would fog kiss fire, if they decided to chance one after a first date?
How does oxygen taste, to the little tongues of fire?
To whom are geese talking while they fly chevron overhead?
If you had to shout to tell a lie, would you ever tell one again?
What part of your soul is rusting?
—Meagan Johanson
Dear Dave Johnson,
Here is my poem based on today’s prompt.
Leaves Questions
Do green leaves look forward to autumn?
Are they ever impressed with each other’s bright colors?
Do leaves have dreams of falling?
Which leaves call to children?
When golden, crimson and sunset colored leaves are kicked,
thrown and jumped on, do they smile?
Are the leaves in compost the dust we all become?
When trees stand bare in the winter do their leaves act as a blanket?
Can only trees hear the music of the stars?
—Mike Cunningham
Reverie
How does the rain know
when to stop falling?
How does the wind remember
where it’s going?
Why does the sun surrender
to the seasons?
Where does the whippoorwill
hide the evening?
Is there a secret
that lasts forever?
—Deborah Purdy
Corvida Normales
~ode to Pablo Neruda
Are you piling up feathers to catch all the eggs?
Can this rain be carved into a stick to save kangaroos?
Where can we hide meadows in bloom
and know when to sew the remainders?
Dare you greet this black-holed spring
and smile me with scent of dried cherries?
—Claudia Hollander-Lucas
Questions
does the night sky embrace
the daylight
once she starts to
walk into the room?
will the ocean swallow
all land
when the sea creatures
become very hungry?
did you hear the sound
of the seeds
as they grew into
everything magnificent in this world?
can you feel the
rejuvenation of music
if the room
listens or sways or dances or sings along?
do i exist for you?
—Jade Fassbinder
Who Knows?
When will my wish be granted by that so far away star?
What will I do with my closet full of memories?
How much distance is there between what I meant to do and what I did?
Who listens to the smooth tempting call of the mourning dove?
Can we see beyond what we can see?
How do the seasons know to slide from one to another?
Did time fold into itself and fit neatly on a shelf?
Is this forever different than the next?
—Jean Lamberty
Autism Speaks Volunteer Advocacy Ambassador
Poem after Neruda’s Q’s
If blue were a house, who would live there?
Who told potatoes they should grow underground?
What did the onion say to the stew?
How do flies always find where the hole in the screen is?
And for whom do squirrels flick their tails?
—Noreen Sanders
Why does Neruda always slay me?
Questions
Do I have a twin, somewhere out there in the world?
Are there alternate versions of myself I could be, but have suppressed?
Is there such a thing as reincarnation?
Is the body just a vessel for the mind?
When we are on the internet, are we in someone else’s simulation?
— Kori Cooper
Why Am I Writing a poem?
Why does the poem, fly to the sky?
Why is the radio, eating my bagel?
When will the cloud, sing aloud?
Who is the bird, that creeps to the pond?
What is my refrigerator, doing in my bed?
Where in the world is a teardrop heard ?
— Barbara G Harris
Questions
What do flowers think when they bloom and see the world for the first time?
How do dolphins express their love for each other?
When do elephants forget their dead, or do they ever?
Where can one go to find a perfect cloud, and can we make one?
Why on earth does rancor win the fight over remorse?
What is the perfect equation to make golden track shoes fly?
How do polar bears endure the loneliness of hibernation or live as the snow continues to melt?
Where are the snows of yesteryear, and will they come again or slide to the bottom of the ravine?
How can horses learn empathy and compassion for the human after witnessing the horrors they instill?
Don’t the farm worker, the immigrant and the homeless woman have any recourse
to the sunlight and the sweet scent of April’s end? And which is harder, turning off the lamps
to see the night or not sleeping until dawn, to guarantee the new day is coming?
Why doesn’t someone provide the answers? Why don’t they guess our questions
beforehand so we can abandon the questions and rush to seek the answers?
Why do we have more than four questions. Every year we ask four questions, the same four.
Why are there more than four this year?
—Lenore Rosenberg
Can a shoe smell a stinky foot?
Does a keyboard sense frustration, elation, satisfaction and joy?
Does the wind realize how much it has destroyed?
Will my lost ring find its way home, or even know it is lost?
Does the coffee in my mug realize it is bitter and old?
Do clothes know when they are soiled or fresh, warm and clean?
Does the grass know when it needs a haircut and does it mourn its shaven head?
Does a clock know its power? A gun know its strength? A blanket know its worth?
Does a dog want its freedom? Where would he go?
—Ellen Goldstein
Many thanks for the workshops! ?
Please Tell Me
After Neruda’s Book of Questions
Do clouds long to lay down
with the earth?
And are there fireworks
when cloud-body
and earth-body touch?
Is that what rain really is?
~ ~ ~
Why does the Northern Flicker
open his wings like a magician
before he disappears?
Why do we wound each other?
If a heart opens wide enough
will it swallow all sorrows?
Do birds dream of warm beds
and domestication?
Will a wolf always be free?
If flowers could walk
where would they go?
How do the trees enter our lungs
with their green light?
—by Ceó Ruaírc
Random Questions
(after Pablo Neruda’s The Book of Questions)
Does a leaf suffer when stripped from a
Tree by a gust of wind before the end of summer?
How can one know when something
Has been done for the last time?
Why do birds sing just before
The sun lightens the sky?
Is there a God who speaks through
the belching flames of a Black Hole?
When will the sickened world
Ever return to normal?
Will it?
If a poet writes gibberish is he
More likely to be acclaimed?
—Gerald Harris
Do eyeglasses sleep
when one falls asleep with them on?
How can one retrieve answers that are buried in graves?
Why is the dime smaller than nickel and penny in size but larger in value?
What is the toilet saying when it hisses and where is it going when it runs constantly?
Why are there so many diseases if masks are worn to prevent infection and “we wear the mask…”?
Can typewriter keys lock or unlock any door if tapped long and hard enough?
If glass is so fragile why are some glass ceilings unbreakable?
Does the whistling tea kettle ever wish to be the wind?
If silence is silent how can it speak volumes?
—Kiswana Dee
What does inanimate mean?
Do eyeglasses feel lonely by themselves?
Does a rug know when it needs to be vacuumed?
How do plants feel when they’re being foraged?
Do insects get bored?
Does your fate determine your face?
Will a chicken miss her eggs when they’re taken away?
Why are we born when we are?
Is generosity an inherited or learned trait?
—Shellie Winkler
Who and why?
What did the cardinal tell the persimmon?
Why does the onion make me cry when it’s peeled, and chuckle when fried in oil?
Where do the waves go when the bay freezes?
Where do the angry words go when we leave?
Do you hear the music in my stilettos?
How come your scent is like orange blossoms from 100 miles away?
Can you jump up to my window in the sky?
Who wants to take me when it’s time to go?
—Elisa
Is This Philosophy?
Why do I keep repeating the same mistakes
when I was a straight A student once upon a time?
What can I learn from tiger cubs and eaglets
who are feared but also beloved?
Why does love reside in the heart
when I feel it most in my belly and my shaky knees?
Can I make my body
do things it doesn’t want to do?
Is the soul too made of molecules and atoms
that decompose into other beings?
If the universe is all connected,
Is there really any difference between life and death?
—Monica Shah
Spiritual Synchronicities
Why did the red moon send me a tiger’s eye and amethyst?
Why can’t I name the stone of this cone cylinder?
How did the Rowan tree know to send me a message to be a lighthouse the same day I had the ten of cups?
Did the purple flowers in the backyard replace the fairy ring from last year?
How did he know I was looking for Florida Water to cleanse?
Why did I buy the Mu healing?
Did its name remind me of the sound of the motherland?
How did the eucalyptus, lemongrass and citrine change the energy of space?
Did the breathe happiness do the same before?
Why haven’t I receive my package from ancient blends yet?
Did I have a feeling last year that working at an elementary school would not be a wise choice this time?
Was my lack of direction a form of protection?
Why did I already know to retreat within myself before all this happened?
Will all these questions help me to ride the storm?
—Sherese Francis
Questions
When did I decide to rest
Instead of to run?
If time is like a moving river,
Is space the banks that keep it in?
Do I remember my goodness, and yours?
When will silence pour through sound,
Filling its lungs until it can breath?
When will I offer my rocks
Without remorse?
—Nayana Hein
Last night I dreamed of answers
Who can sleep when the room’s spinning like enemies dancing in the dark?
Who can sleep when the world’s on fire?
Are there are other nightmares you can will yourself into?
How do you stop your teeth from getting ground into bone meal?
Are there escape routes somewhere in this mist?
Did you arrive too late to savor your delay?
Will a self-riding bike prevent having to run and run and run?
How do you chase explanations?
Who taught you to swim like concrete crumbles?
If you seize the moment, will you strangle it?
When does eternity expire?
How will the future get here if it doesn’t exist?
Why cut a flower, when it will die in your hand?
When will you get mauled by the maw?
Will silence save you?
Do all sentences have to end?
Are artificial emotions sweeter?
Would you buy an automatic love maker if it were on sale?
Who will send replacement attachments when the pieces fall apart?
Like an 80s popstar, are you never gonna give me up?
How far do you step back for the leap of laughing through lashes?
Where can you find compostable contentment?
Are you thinking of all those cows and their methane?
When you feel raw, do you feel one with the egg?
Where there are mountains, is the now soon gone?
Do you hear the whispers of senses that are fleeting?
Who can explain how ears get opened by extinguished light?
What do solar lyres sound like?
Why do you flap when you’ve forgotten how to fly?
Is it better to melt into a dream of molting?
If you can stop, can you do it in two ways?
Do you have to choose between what you can’t stand to lose?
How does brine taste like when it becomes the blackest tar?
Why does the bottom of your mouth not melt like an Antarctic ice sheet?
How hard it is to talk?
Who ate your tongue?
Does expanding space feel like love’s disgrace?
Can a heart get remaindered?
Wasn’t I great last time I stood here?
Must all questions get corrected?
—
Peter Vander Lux