Best Interview Poems
Living amid the blurred lines of my reflections
Stark cold fears snow me blanket my resolve
Nestled my leafless core begging for rebirth
Patches of life clumped to the reality of what is what was
Soul penetrating every doubt of self worth
Raw exposure of glory days forgone
Dreams engulf the rapture of greener pastures
Revealed in roots embedded firmly in my foundation
Seeds flourish branches extend and trunks stand firm
The astronaut saw the black hole
And suddenly feared for his soul
He chose to die brave
And gave life a wave
And as he went in he cried, “Goal!”
The astronaut clung to his pride
As his atoms were spread far and wide
And he nearly cried
Because as he died
A voice in the dark said, “Off side!”
Sitting in a cloak of black conservatism:
I feel my hands,
oily on the desk like shortening in
slate gray cookie pans,
the speedway inside forcing the absence of
reabsorption,
And my thoughts,
so flippant to implore
if a man with a chartreuse neck tie
can see the long wet streaks
across the cherry plane.
He speaks,
a sequence of interrogatives
common to the bored walls
of serious conference,
evoking tone inflection
in the pattern of polite.
Darest I mention truth?
I am your whore;
infect me with smug integrity,
smack me with false prophet leadership,
just leave some crisp bills
on the nightstand, sugar.
Yet my voice models his wavelength,
relaying back the catchy tired language
of one hit wonders;
eyes brighten,
hands extend
from the man who owns a chartreuse tie.
Sigh.
Still,
complacency
awards a loaf of Wonder bread,
and a two bedroom lower.
One walked out
One walked in
I sat nervously in reception
Waiting for my torture to begin
Bouts of laughter came from the interview room
Knocking my confidence with each bout
I didn’t want to be there anymore
Tempted to just forget it and walk out
The door opened she came out smiling
My turn to face the panel of three
They were all very nice
Though it actually didn’t help me
The interview in full motion
Questions and scenarios galore
Confident in my responses
Of them l felt quite sure
However, there was a problem
One l had never experienced before
I could not stop saying long ‘ummms’
Every-time l opened my mouth which was impossible to ignore
I apologised for the ongoing ummms
Explained it was just nerves
Next thing that came out my mouth
Yes, you guessed it….’ummm’ before my words
I left the interview feeling completely humiliated
I cried whenever the interview came to mind
I was so disappointed and embarrassed of myself
It was obvious the position was not mine
The letter arrived... l wasn’t interested
As l knew already what it said
I simply glanced at it
My husband read it instead
‘You got the job Deb’, he told me
You can imagine my utter surprise
Handing me the letter
I honestly could not believe my eyes
After working the job for some time
I enquired why they had chosen me
My interview was not my finest hour
With me ummming constantly
She told me there was something about me
That just shone through
Even with all your ummming, she smiled
We decided this job was for you
The lesson l learnt and want to convey in this long winded story is
it doesn’t always have to be perfect or right
Sometimes in life ‘it just is ‘…. simply meant to be
Ummm…..and for you the universe just shines bright!
M. So Mike I hear you've been gone?
MH. Why yes I have!
M. Why the absence?
MH. I just needed some time to clear my head.
M. That should have taken no more than a couple minutes
MH. Ahhh...no, I was gone a couple weeks. I was going to stay out a month but this site is so addictive! I'm sure our listening audience can attest to that!
M. Audience? No ones listening to this...
MH. But you said...
M. Me?
MH. Yes you said when we were talking that I was going to be on the radio.
M. Dude your me...
MH. I know!
M. Your blowing my mind here...Can we just get on with this?
MH. Sure...What I was trying to do was really just find myself.
M. Find yourself...were your lost?
MH. No just needed to try and do away with some of the junk in my life.
M. I'm starting to wonder if I'm you then why is this the first time I'm hearing about it.
MH. That is odd isn't it..
M. Almost as odd as interviewing yourself.
MH. Almost
M. So any good poems written while you were gone?
MH. To tell the truth I couldn't stop writing...If they're any good only time will tell.
M. How do you think the interview is going so far? Am I doing alright? Asking the tough questions?
MH. I think your the best...That's why I only let me interview myself!
M. Speaking of interviews I've got another one scheduled I really need to run...
MH. Really? With who?
M. Oh it's you but you the World Famous Nuclear Physicist!
MH. But I'm not a...
M. Hey...It's what we call in journalism as a lead in...makes them want more.
MH. But I'm...
M. Don't worry, we'll make something up...
MH. We always do...
M. Ain't THAT the truth!
MH. Shall we do it over lunch?
M. Sounds good...you buying?
When the night is filled with questions,
and the sky is a jeweled blanket,
I sit on the deck of my water room,
listening to the waves flirt with stillness,
and the breeze ~ caressing the green of palm leaves ~
in an island of romance, where the heart sings
in sync with the music of nature.
In all that quietness, I see a flying star,
a flicker of golden sparks across the horizon,
and I let my eyes rest , as I breathe unwritten questions...
~ O shooting star, must I wait another fortnight
to catch a glimpse of your blazing bliss?
You need not wait, my shadow stays with you, when the world grows cold and distant..
But am I the only one, healing and hurting,
placing empty promises on your ephemeral essence?
O beloved dreamer, you are not the only one.
But in your thoughts, I hear an aching poem.
How do you see, when the faces I knew, forgot to trace beyond softened smiles?
I am just a meteoroid, leaving a streak of sizzling light ~
I am no wish-maker, but a fragment of divinity, a design of Almighty's grace.
Ah, and in you I see my muse, prompting me to write.
I wonder: why do I not see you in daylight, when the sun sits on its throne?
To see me when all is dark
is like hope sailing in a heaven-sent odyssey.
Lord knows why your silence calls to me~
as if I were a sign of faith…
They say you are anything but a star~
dust and rock, dancing through the air.
Is that true, O glorious glow?
I am everything a dreamer would dream of.
For you, I will be your rhyme and metaphor,
penned within purple pages~
a riddle the ones who do not feel
can never truly comprehend…
Thank you, perhaps , it is in your neon afterglow,
I will thrive as the silhouette of a shooting star...
“Good Morning! I know you are busy. Will you stop for a while for an interview?”
Sir, what do you want to know? If only you are keen,
And do not look at me with prejudice, I shall explain,
How I ended up here and tell you my whole story_
The story of my journey from the cliff to the plane.
“Yes, I know you are a traveller, tell me all about it. But before that, I wish to know about your origin and background.”
I was part of a big rock, so static without motion.
I used to watch birds in flight on feathered wings,
Going from one end to the other, merrily singing,
Buoyed up by the force of the wind as on swings.
Like them I longed to be free and roaming
But knew I was cradling just a fanciful whim.
I slept most of my life with my dream tucked in my heart.
As time rolled by, my dreams and fancies grew dim.
It was then a tremor shook the very face of the earth,
Loosening my mother boulder from her strong hinge.
She moved and rolled down from the great heights,
On the way a chip got broken, in pain I did twinge.
Thus, I was born. Painfully, alienated from my mother,
I felt so orphaned and lay silent in a dark corner,
Lost and hungering like a dream waiting to wake up.
But my grief gave way to joy, no more I was a mourner.
“It sounds so interesting. How did it all happen? Please tell me…..”
Seeing me lying dejected and despondent, a small stream
Took pity on me and carried me along.
I enjoyed my ride and never more I was sad.
Now to a wider world, joyfully I belong.
Freed from all chains, I am out to view life and enjoy.
I stay in nature’s bosom, free to saunter wherever I wish.
Never feeling the need to pitch my tent, like a gipsy,
I travel along with the stream, with a merry swish.
“So glad to know that your life has taken such an unexpected turn. Now a last question.How do you respond to the popular saying- ‘A Rolling Stone gathers no moss.’”
Sorry, I have nothing to comment. Let men see it that way,
Enjoy life is my creed, my song is the song of liberty.
Leaving all cares and sorrows behind, like a tramp I stroll,
Taking turns and twists, sometimes cascading down in endless novelty.
“Thank you for stopping by to tell the story of your life and sharing your views and aspirations on life”
He left home when he was barely thirteen,
Said he got tired of getting beat, by an old man that was down right mean.
Said it might have been different, had he done something wrong,
He said shoot I ain’t perfect, but I know when I don’t belong.
He said momma left when I was just nine,
She said she couldn’t live with a man who wouldn’t choose her over moonshine.
And after that it was hell to pay,
Cause he’d get drunk dang near every day.
So I kind of figured I’d get out while I could,
Cause the life at home sure weren’t no good.
It’s been pretty rough out here, but I’m finally learning my way,
Picking up cans and bottles pretty much makes up my day.
Well I’ve been on my own for a little over three years now,
Don’t know what happened to my old man, don’t really care anyhow.
Went by the house once and it was all boarded up and had police tape draped cross the door,
You can bet I wasn’t going back in there that’s for sure.
Shoot I appreciate the money, what’d ya call this an interview,
Shoot mister there’s a lot of kids out here like me, and this was the only thing they
could do too.
Me: How did you start out?
Sand: I was born a rock. About 5 inches round and weighting
about a six pounds.
Me: Now did you become just a tiny grain of sand?
How did you get so small?
Sand: I have been in this huge ocean for many years.
The mighty waves have rubbed me down to my small size.
Me: How has your size changed you?
Sand: As a rock I could see more of life. As a tiny grain of sand,
I feel my life could be over soon.
Me: How do you like being on the beach?
Sand: I can feel the warm sun. I love the cool water licking
all over me. Sometimes people step on me.
Me: Does it hurt when people step on you?
Sand: No more. I have gotten use to it.
Me: Thank You for the interview. I wish you good luck.
Sand: I enjoyed talking with some who cares about me. I also wish you good luck.
As a former executive recruiter, I used to hear about some incredible things that applicants have said on job interviews. A few of them are a bit 'spicy' to list here, but here are some choice tidbits:
My name's John. But you can call me 'Lizard.'
You forgot to offer me a cup of coffee.
I left 'street address' blank. I live in a trailer park.
Your last name is Spears? Related to Brittney?
I'm on my fourth marriage. So far, so good.
Before we talk about the actual job, can we talk money?
Between you and me, I couldn't stand my last boss.
Are there any gay bars near here?
I left my last job because the work wasn't meaningful enough.
Put me close to the bathroom. I have issues.
So, how do you like Trump?
I didn't see the 'Meditation Room.'
What's your policy on music?
Can I park my bicycle here in the office?
I have to leave early every Thursday for my AA meetings.
My hair's not long now like it was in college.
Let me show you some pictures of my kids...
August 01, 2019
Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List
Dear Heart
As I walked through a meadow singing a song,
I heard a hissing voice say, "Hello. Come along."
It came from beneath a patch of thorny weeds,
whispered, "Are you one of those good seeds?"
I feared the snake would strike from coiled position,
but it seemed to be waiting for my admission.
There was a fiery light burning in its beady eyes,
as distant thunder rumbled in graying skies.
I dared not let the reptile know the fear I felt within
so, I answered the snake, with gold glistening skin.
"I don't think of myself as a righteous good seed.
but I do my best to perform many a helpful deed."
"What of you, snake? What is it that you like to do?
Tell me why many people are always afraid of you."
He flicked his tongue to catch the scent of me,
took some time before replying, then he did decree:
"Snakes like me have always been misunderstood."
Then he rose up higher and the cobra fanned his hood.
"We're called "Lords of Evil," but we're merely snakes.
Some of us are poisonous, but for goodness sakes,
many of us do good things on the land of Mother Earth.
Shouldn't that mean that we have a measure of worth?"
He uncoiled and slithered under an apple tree's shade.
I should've walked away, but couldn't, so I stayed.
My mind was overflowing with things I wanted to query.
He beckoned me to come nearer, but I remained wary.
"Do not fear me for I'll not sink my fangs in you, child.
I'm sick and tired of snakes being slandered and reviled.
We're thought of as devils and demons from Satan's lair,
beheaded and killed for no reason, and that's not fair."
I listened to its complaints and with him I had to agree.
Snakes always get a bad rap. Not all of them are beastly.
Suddenly, he stopped talking, and I thought he was asleep
until he opened one eye, asking if his secret I would keep.
"I won't tell anyone about the conversation we just had,
and promise to spread the word that not all snakes are bad."
I stand waiting patiently, on bated breath, outside a gilded gate.
The scent of freshly burning frankincense glides over the clouds.
Looking down, I nervously play with the skin around my nails.
A warm anxiety pumps through my veins.
Time is of consequence here.
Closing my eyes to center myself,
I rearrange my thoughts, place questions in the right order—
for I'll be here only briefly before being sent back.
As I open my eyes, readjusting to the blinding light,
an angel comes to escort me through the gates.
I'm led to a pearlescent room and told to sit upon the alabaster chair.
She asks if I'm comfortable.
I reply, "Why yes, thank you. Quite."
"Now, I heard you pleading on your knees,
heart in your hand, to talk to me."
I reply, "Yes, I am just seeking answers.
You see, my Nana suffered so long before being taken from me—why?
Why did she have to have that suffering in her eyes,
that fear and sorrow in her eyes?
She didn't deserve to feel such unimaginable pain."
"My child," the angel said,
"even I don't have all the answers to these questions.
What I can tell you is that her suffering was not in vain.
She held on for you,
and she saw a strength in you that brought her peace even before death.
So wipe your eyes, my child.
These questions are not to be known until we are sitting here together for a different reason.
Go now, my child.
Live, so her memory can live on within your heart and memories."
In the cosmic dance, I stand accused,
You ask why I've left you bruised.
A black hole in your heart I've wrought,
A void where emotions once sought.
Countless galaxies I've consumed,
In my gravity's grip, they're entombed.
No feelings linger, no love to find,
In the abyss where hearts are confined.
Had I bestowed a ray of hope,
You'd be a supernova, ready to elope.
A burst of creation, stars would ignite,
In the dark expanse of love's flight.
But alas, you're left heartbroken,
Watching the moon, your love unspoken.
In your thoughts, you spin and twirl,
Caught in the gravity of love's cruel whirl.
In the dark of night, or under moon's glow,
Your heart among the stars does sow.
Hoping your love, with eyes so bright,
Will catch a glimpse in the starry night.
So in this interview with cosmic might,
I'm sorry for the pain, the endless night.
But in the vastness of space, where hearts roam,
Love's light still flickers, seeking its home.
I was interviewed on Manx Radio about my poetry journey and it was broadcast today - the whole clip is about 7 minutes long. By the way it is not me reading the snippets of poems.
The programme can be found on 'on demand' the show is called 'women today' and was dated 5th August
this is the link for you to paste into your browser
If you go to the black bar under the Manx Radio logo and scroll along to 14 minutes 45 seconds this is a good time to start listening to it
http://www.manxradio.com/radioplayer/od/1762/
I have also done this as a blog ... but as not everyone reads the blog page I posted it here too
Hugs Jan x
5th August 2015
There once was a boy, named Abdul;
Went to get a job, fresh out of school.
All dressed up like July,
With a bow and a tie;
But left his fly open, what a fool!