Best Interviewer Poems


Premium Member A Comb-edy of Hair-ers

My dear brother Butch,

Hair are the highlights of my week:
I got a job at the Hairway to Heaven salon!
Our motto: "We color your hair or dye trying"
When the interviewer said "I mustache you a question..."
I answered, "May I mullet over?"
Seriously, working there is a shear delight, 
with some nice fringe benefits
They're a real cut above the rest
and I shave a lot of money on hair products...
I bought Dad a comb for Father's Day… I bet he'll never part with it
It is a long drive to the salon, but now I know all the short cuts
Oh hey, I know hair-growth seminars are not your style, but
call up your receding hairline buddies and comb on over!

It was great to see you last week, you are looking so trim!
I still feel terrible about the curling iron incident…
You can rest a-sheared I'll straighten it out
but I mussed warn you, you might get fro straighted
Just remember, $15 for a hairpiece is a small price toupée
You may not like short hair at first, but it will grow on you
...that's the mane thing

Did you hear Mom and Dad had a brush with death?
It was a very hairy situation with a real twist:
buzzing down the highway at a decent clip
someone tried to cut them off
Mom was ready to wig out, curl up and dye, but thankfully
Dad went to great lengths to avoid an accident
so there was no permanent damage
you had to see it to be-weave it

Ok, time for a couple of jokes to lighten the mood:
How does the man on the moon trim his hair? 
   Eclipse.
Why did Pavlov have such fabulous looking hair?
   Conditioning.
Why do felines groom with their tongues?
   They can't find their catacombs.
Why did the little girl watch "Black Stallion" more than "Babe"?
   She liked pony tales more than pig tales.
What was the barber's sign before he went on vacation?
   "Hair today, gone to Maui"
Did you hear about the novelty store selling fake piles of dung?
   It was sham poo.

Just teasing! 

Take hair,

Curly
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member During the Job Interview, I Was Worried the Interviewer Hadn'T Heard Fire By Bruce Springsteen

his nose was distracting
but so was mine
i listened to it ; in the car on the way
there
the bass was in my brain

what if he'd never heard it?
the questions kept coming
questions about
stuff 
thinking about the book of judges
i saw paintings  

i followed him home
hid beneath the window pane
but heard nothing

i didn't get the job

Premium Member Interview With An Artist

The interviewer is water colored...green.
The artist, antiqued abstract.
He probes for her deepest sable secrets. 
She offers pale nothings from her musky attic retreat-

He nibbles away with baby teeth.
She slugs him in his ochre gut. 
With vague stone frogs croaking from
the cracks of black souled mountain tops.

Her being lies in the shadow of shadows. 
Briefly Exposing its oily head 
From ancient mind scribbles and mayhem.
The path to her treasures is overgrown. 
With the bluest bile and hungry thorn.

He's too soft -to green to ever see.
To bushwhack and bleed. 
To seek the trail head.
Like she slashed and bled 
'til her soul was partly cleansed-

He's unable to see what she clearly saw.
So back and forth they go. 
Into a see-saw nothingness...
Goddess of abstract - watercolor man
A dead end of a dance.

Her aurora left her long ago.
Seeping lovingly into her paintings.
An explosion of mental mitochondria.
Hanging from dingy gallery walls....
She places her wrinkled flower face. 
Deep into her burnt sienna soul... 
The interviewer has been flayed.
The interview is over.


On This Day

All of my thoughts and emotions
All of my attention and affections
Everything from adolescent to maturity
The search for special one was launched
I became the interviewer
And all the elegant became my interviewees
Hoping for something special

So, on this day
I just want to give you me
I want to give you all the attention in the world
I know you’ve seen the color of my love
Embrace yourself love
Coz on this day
This you’ve never seen
And this you’ve got to see
The whole world will seem like you and I
And all will happen on this day

So on this day
I just want to appreciate you
And let you know that
No present is more than a present 
Of having you present in my life
No rose can arouse me more
No other brown chocolate can change me
From being there for you with you

On this day
As for promises made can be broken
As for everything said can change
As for our love is eternity
As for words written will remain
And for our love so special

Yet this day may pass 
But as for our love will remain
Memories shared will remain

So on this day
I just want to say
You’re what have been missing in my life
Coz, life only makes sense when you know
There is someone worth living for
And for me, you’re the one

So, on this day
I will give you what you can never 
Find anywhere that is me.
On this day I want you to know that
I love you more

What If I Be the Judge

What if I interchange
my place with you tactfully
and be the interviewer ma'am,
you the nervous interviewee?

My jumbled head with statistics
from economics to weight of moon
and from Osama to Obama,
will be a blank space soon.

I will measure you inch by inch
taking a careful look at you,
suddenly without an apparent cause
let out a huge naughty guffaw.

This will make you nervous more
sweat beads appear all over face,
casually I will enjoy this,and
let my mind to start caress.

Very much enjoy change of roles
with the peoples surrounding me,
frequently I am the Boss of all
anytime can be 'he' or 'she'.

What if I want to judge this time
to get the first time judgement taste,
will you sponsor write a poem
and enter in your own contest?




=============000==============
© Kash Poet  Create an image from this poem.

From the Pen of An Ex-Bore

Recently, when I was bored, 
I meditated upon boredom,
Over a cup of tea.
And three instances crossed my mind.

In the classroom:
Once, as a student, I was bored 
And dozed off;
Woke up with a start
When the drone of the lecture stopped.
The lecturer apologized:
Sorry for disturbing you!

A game of volleyball: 
A member of my team,
Went woolgathering,
When the ball wasn’t coming his way.
Now, suddenly the ball came 
And hit him straight in the chest.
Shocked, he let out a cry!

An interview—
Between a media person and a Professor:
The bored interviewer suddenly became alert 
And shot back the same question.
Imagine the reaction around!

Well, we are all bored,
When we are not interested in 
What we are doing;
Or we are not doing 
What we are interested in;
Or have nothing to do.

Boredom, apparently harmless, 
Will have its corrosive effect—on personality;
Initially may induce 
Sleep and daydreaming. 
Slowly absentmindedness creeps in.
And eventually addictions set in.    
On the positive side, boredom suggests:
There’s peace and no particular worry.

Remedy?
A good plan of unwinding
And some attitudinal fine-tuning.
That’s almost all. 
Good bye, Boredom!

***
© Ram R. V.  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member When You Visit My Page

It behooves me to tell you this but when you visit my page

You open yourself up to some very creepy events

For instance, you will be carrying on like it was a normal day

When suddenly you'll burst out into incontrollable laughter

Just hope and pray there's no one around

Especially when you're attending the funeral of a friend

Also if your applying for a new job

And the interviewer asks you if you've ever had a brush with the law

It's not a good idea to look around shiftily

Quickly put your hand where you might be packing some heat

And tell the interviewer you were once a member of the FBI

So this is just an advanced warning

Be prepared and don't schedule any serious business meetings

It could mean your job... don't say I didn't warn you!




© Jack Ellison 2014

Premium Member Flabbergasted

I finally watched the much talked-about
R.Kelly interview. And it was off-the-rails crazy alright!
A day has passed and I'm still flabbergasted by it
If his objective was to convince the world
Of his innocence, he failed spectacularly
In fact, he came off like the unhinged monster he really is

Mid-interview, he turns to the camera
And completely comes undone 
He's standing over his interviewer, Gayle King
Pounding his fists, beating his chest, SCREAMING...

"Quit playing! Use your common sense, I didn't do this[expletive]!"

"Y'all killing me, man!"

"I'm trying to have a relationship with my kids, and I can't do it!"

"Y'all just don't wanna believe the truth!"

Myriads of questions ran through my head
During that bizarre meltdown
Why the hell is he lashing out at us viewers? 
Is he really blaming viewers for the trouble he finds himself in? 
Absolutely risible
I didn't get that whole "performance" 
I found him talking to the camera quite disturbing
As it felt as though he was looking and venting 
Directly AT me. It was as if we were looking 
Into each other's eyes. Again, disturbing!

You ARE a monster, R. Kelly
It makes me sick that I used to be a fan
You should be angry only at yourself
Blame your own stupidity for your woes 
You were acquitted for heinous crimes 
That would've sent an average joe away 
For a decade or two, but did you learn
Your lesson? No. Nobody put a gun to your head
And forced you to continue to prey on underage girls
You had the opportunity to redeem yourself
After you got a lucky break you didn't deserve
But you blew it! You thought yourself invincible
Now you got a very rude awakening. Your victims
Will finally get the justice they deserve
Hopefully, you won't get away 
With impunity this time


Date written and posted: 03/08/2019

Premium Member The Desire To Deliver

When growing up as a only child
always so loved to get a letter
living in countryside few folk around
postie delivery made me feel better

Leaving school no great intentions
but had within me real desire
to be a postman delivering mail
this would be a job I'd never tire

I did once get interview appointment
nervous I was with my stammer
the interviewer questioned my resolve
to communicate with public, real hammer!

But amazingly I was offered position
doubts then had filled my mind 
confidence lapsed to do the job
so declined offer never again to find

So my desire to deliver unfulfilled
but life's been good all the same
never the less it would have been nice
anyway wasn't meant to have my name

Premium Member Reflection On Earth's Interview

When asked what skill sets
I hoped to bring
Her local ecology of justice
for nurturing,
I was not prepared.

But,
one of two internal wisdom projects,
still in process,
I'm ego-working on,
eco-role playing with,
is non-violent communication,
so I mentioned this
to the Trees and other WiseElder
youth nutritional developers

Young,
poised and elegant,
soft-spoken yet articulate
and straightforward
and with integrity of authentic curiosity,
She asked me

"What do you mean
by non-violent communication skills?
Does that mean you invite,
rather than demand, responses
by mentoring them
while listening for co-present hiding Wins
then Both/And speaking
then WinWin listening again?"

"Or are you still working
on healing OldSchool communication issues,
dominating patriarchal Left 
by diminishing ElderMatriarchal Right?"

"Are you still working on non-violently violating people
with your body aggressive hands
and patriarchally mendacious voice
and homophobic and xenophobic
marching against green ecofeminist sacred feet
and blatantly exhibiting LeftBrain rabid totalitarian deductive-reductive dominance
and Trumpian: I'm just a bad bully boy
with a redblooded colonizing heart
testosterone twittering?"

I wasn't expecting that line of questioning.
But I found it really interesting
that a freckled nose
brown-skinned
young and beautiful,
inside and outside
ego and eco-core centered investigative interviewer
would need to ask that
of a white U.S. male
at this critical moment
of last non-violent hope
breathlessly waiting
for a WinWin communicated response
inviting cooperative ego/ecological polypathic climates
reversing pathological monoculturing decades
of business as competing WinLose usual

Now post-millennially reborn
green inviting integrity
of PositivEnergy Democracy
non-violently inciting
restorations of multicultural EarthJustice

SpaceTime co-arising
further EgoLeft-EcoSacredRight
ripe for ZeroZone theological healing.

But,
that's the other skill set
I'm sacred ecological
RightBrain STEAM green
writing with--
much too revolutionary
for any first time 
PositivEnergy impression.

Maybe we could go there
next 2020 Revolutionary time.

Clumsy Oaf

in her people’s wisdom,
The author said,
"No Native language has
a cognate for “human” as
separate from other beings."
The NPR interviewer sighed and
became excited by the unity
of all things and the serenity
implied in this foreign paradigm.

I’ve read enough philosophy and
literature to know we "the civilized"
West speak about the conflict of 
man versus nature, so I wonder
how that plays out in the Native
American spirit?

Unity? What is that? Kum by yah?
To honor the soul of the animal
you killed for food, be in love
with the three sisters, be kindred
with the trees, find fellowship
with the twisted rocks and clear
waters who are your home.

How smooth and easy
in contrast to the white man’s
distinct ability to become a
dissonant trumpet, out of tune,
crippled, always able to find
a way to sour the tune.
Every time.

Like all the noise we make as we
carry “diversity” like a spear
because we need our wars and
search for a reason to kill that guy
who isn’t us, to think stewardship 
of the Earth's ethereal beauty 
requires bulldozers and flames.
It is who we are.

We see beauty, but cannot walk in it
with our unentangled, quantum souls; 
yes, we can take its picture, even 
paint it to hang on our sterile walls, 
but only if the colors match the couch.

Copyright
Vol Lindsey
02/12/2022

Piano

 
Interviewer: What is your piano to you ?


  A piano is my lover; an intimate body who trembles and illicits sighs and groans under my careful touch
  A piano is my companion; a loyal friend who stands and waits patiently and unconditionally
  A piano is my voice; a passionate manifestation of my emotions when physical expression fails me
  A piano is my soul; an innate fragment of my heart, mind and body that gives me life and purpose 
  A piano is my heaven; an ethereal sanctuary that offers me refuge in my otherwise immoral world.

A Visit To the Food Stamp Office

Being a poet means (of course ) that I am not rich 
So I headed off to the food stamp office 
Across form me while I wait 
  are 3 females 
One is a Moslem!
Another an African American with a larger hat
than I have on 
   My name is called out
I would like to tell the interviewer 
that I have had 4 poems selected for inclusion 
   in the NY Times
  I douibt he would care 
   Once when I worked for an executive recruiter
someone - referring to poetry said 
   "you can eat the paper"
when I let him know I had poetry published 
  I guess I'll eat the paper
maybe it will be delicous

Premium Member Can't Catch the Wind

Thank you, Wind, for sitting with me -
A most uncommon interviewee.

Glad to help, won't you take good notes,
So that you may avoid misquotes?

Sure, I think that would be a crime.
Tell our readers how you spend time.

I love to travel everywhere,
So many places I move the air.
I have pushed ships across the sea
To new lands of opportunity.
I caress folks' faces and skin.
So they feel good outside and in.
I convey smells of fresh baked bread,
Jasmine flowers and roses, red,
The happy shouts of kids at play,
And singing birds to start the day.

Do you ever find that you get bored?
Are there more pastimes you've explored?

I make ladies' hair come undone.
I swiftly rustle skirts for fun.
I blow a hat off of a head. 
I'll make a field goal miss instead.
Sometimes, when I get furious,
I'm a cyclone, injurious. 

Thanks Wind, I've enjoyed our meeting.
This will be engaging reading.

And so, the interview ended.
Notes on which the piece depended,
Placed on the cafe table, unbound,
Were blown here, there, and all around,
As the interviewer was taught, 
The Wind's a guy who can't be caught.

Premium Member "why Are You Smiling?"

Judge Bristol passed his sentence with the following words and said,
"The said William Bonney, alias Kid, alias William Antrim
shall be hanged by the neck until his body be dead, Dead, DEAD!!!"
Billy left the courthouse smiling, almost as if in glee.
"Why are you smiling?" an interviewer asked him inquisitivly.
"What's the point in dwelling on the dreary side of life all the time?" the Kid responded,
"Today the joke is on me."

A true tibute to The Kid's charm, humor and endearing personality.
The above is not legend. It's documented true history.

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