Best Questioner Poems
The moon fills from the top
Each day gets lighter, growing
How it hold the light and it not run out
The bottom just pouring
Seeing the moon in day
Up in the clear sky blue
Makes mind search for way to express
Ones' questions about you
Momma always said that
I could ask more questions
Than Philadelphia lawyer
Her.....abstentions
(My mother always said that I asked too many questions ...Very inquistive child was I....Still
wonder.....The word abstentions means ...no do.)
Categories:
questioner, childhood, funny, life, mothermoon,
Form:
Rhyme
I regret the anguish that I suffered from the church
No comfort for the questioner no solace for the lost
With rules and hypocrisy engrained in the folds
Of vestments golden -
I regret the bigotry of those times - no mercy for the sinner
The smell of incense sweat and fear
Garbled mutterings paying dear
Saving souls from extra torture
Hiding secrets from the world
Little infants buried outside little girls incarcerated
In the laundries of the Magdalen – starching sheets of rich mens’ linen
Feeling guilty for existing –
No eyes meet mine
To tell the sorrow of their lives
Categories:
questioner, life
Form:
Prose Poetry
A wisdom download,
Some years back ,
Alfonso Warally Chris asked
The so called intelligent, "
Why do those who think
To be intelligent worship animals
which have no mind?
Or things made
by humans?
"The things of God
Are very difficult to understand,
Brothers and sisters.
An animal has instinct,
But you will meet some psychologists
And phylosophers who worship animals
And statues,"
He said.
A wisdom download,
"Do you think those philosophers and
Psychologists who worship animals
Know the real God?
Are they intelligent than those animals?"
Are they wisers?
He asked again.
Many questions unanswered,
Millions of wise readers
Can produce many answers
According to the wisdom
Of the real God in them.
Sometimes you can be blamed
When you sharing your thoughts
With millions of the world people
Which is not really reasonable.
Some people can be in the field
Which they don't well understand
And end up sounding as ignorants.
A wisdom download,
Sometimes you can think to be wise
Due to having some doctorate degrees
While you are not.
One president of DRCongo comes
in my mind,
He was not well educated
But he played
Many university professors
When they left teaching carriers
To join politicians.
Many students
Understood that there is no a World
University which can download
And install the wisdom of God
In the students.
Somewhere majority of very educated people
Worship some politicians as their gods.
This is not an exam question paper
But it is a wise questionnaire
From a wise questioner.
April 17/2023
Written for poetry contest sponsored by
Unseeking seeker
Categories:
questioner, 12th grade, confidence, education,
Form:
Free verse
I once was asked a question
that couldn't be answered.
It was a deep question, one with intent and thought.
The questioner thought long and hard
before he came to see me.
Although I had no answer, a reply came from me,
"Let us search out the Answerer of this great questioner.
Maybe he'll find us, but let us search and wander."
On our journey we went,
searching for the answerer, the questioner and me,
passing mountains of old and new.
Making us stronger as each day we grew.
We came to a fork, "Which way should we go?"
So I sat and left it to the questioner.
The questioner said, "I think the answerer is this way."
So up I was to follow the thoughtful questioner,
on the quest for the answerer.
To the Left was a forest
To the Right was a sea.
As we walked we could see rain ahead
the darkness trembled, the trees hid.
Into the forest we went, surrounded by care
we went on for the answerer to answer the question.
The rain brought cold, darkness swelling as the sea,
we huddled together, the questioner and me.
We tried to get some sleep, but none could be made.
At first light on we went, through the forest with great delight.
At the break of the trees a town came to pass
we followed the road, to the main street.
This town had some jazz, it even had class.
Passersby we asked the questioners deep question,
no one knew the answer to, so we told them of our quest
to find the Answerer, they wished us the best.
The mayor of this classy town heard the news
thought he'd look for us, and found us sitting down.
Told us not to look so blue
and asked us what was this heavy question
we then asked him out question, as we looked at our shoes,
then he smiled, and asked us to look him in the eye
and asked us the reason, the reason why,
we would ever ask a question of such great size,
I said "I don't know that's the questioner's job."
The mayor looked into the Questioners eyes
then picked him up, and said,
"Child, I tell you no lies,
your daddy cares for you
and will always dry you eyes."
Categories:
questioner, adventure, inspirational, religion, rain,
Form:
Free verse
Someone said, “Now you’ve turned forty-,
What have you learned?
Your experience must be varied,
Your fingers quite burned.
You must’ve gone through troubled times,
Of disappointments you’d’ve quite a share;
But how does life’s learning
For your future prepare?”
I looked at my questioner
With a baleful and gloomy stare,
Not with anger or reproach;
There was no fire in my glare.
“Life, son,” I told him,
“Is what is learnt alone,
All advice from others
Is crumbs to a beggar thrown.
It’s what one takes out of life
That matters much more.
One’s own experience is what counts,
Go, knock on it’s stubborn door!
I’ve been sitting where you sit,
Asked the same riddle as you do;
But was pointed out a direction
And left to steer a course that’s true.
The helmsman determines the course,
The rudder needs control;
It’s how you determine your goal
And steer from the treacherous shoal.
So don’t ask of experience,
Test the waters on your own;
Find a guiding star to steer by
Don’t wait for it to be shown.
And when you, too, turn forty-
Think back and count your deeds –
The path you’ve trod is well behind,
Look ahead, move on, you’ll know where your future leads!
Categories:
questioner, inspirational, introspection, life, philosophy,
Form:
someone asked her what she was looking at
as she stood in front of the large picture window in the kitchen
in the abode where she presently resided---
the question came aloud from another room,
as if the questioner was busy themselves & only in passing
did they see the girl standing
with eyes focused,
arms at her sides,
as if in a private state of wonder
(& why a private state of wonder seems to be ample food for the
popular & public, pedantically preposterous, who prey upon the
rest of us---we’ll never know) &
so without hesitation they rambled out their comment,
not sticking around a moment for an answer &
as if that itself was not an answer to such a question,
the girl standing in front of the window
neglected to say anything, instead,
taking an extra moment to enjoy what it was that she
had been privately concerned with,
whatever images appeared out there
that her own sense of sensory perception
was devouring, free of the babble
swirling all around,
incessantly---
Categories:
questioner, life, girl,
Form:
Free verse
A question asked
Heard by none
Never spoken
Nothing done
A question answered
Somehow they knew
Talked to the air
As confusion grew
The questioner replied
Muttered no sound
Nothing to be seen
Searching around
The answerer asked
What's going on?
In the empty silence
Fearing sanity gone
Confused at themselves
'It's nothing' they said
And then a little startled
Walked on and shook their head
June 2010
Categories:
questioner,
Form:
Quatrain
it would have been an injury to them both
to attempt a description,
to bring what it was that compelled the girl to silence
(if she had not chose silence beforehand---one outside can never be sure)
to formulate an image, to dispel some kind of physical qualities verbally
which to the person outside
might have made some impression upon them,
because that unique allurement of which the girl did focus
could never truly be brought into any kind of distinction for the rest of us,
in fact to try would only taint it & do a disservice to the whole of the
event---
rather, even a more considerate onlooker, who stopped when crossing into the other room, in order to ask the girl about her moment in awe,
would only force a quick death to what was happening,
like waking up from a dream involving the two,
neither can make the other understand
anything but the attempt at understanding,
for what is to be understood
exists solely on its own---right out there in the focus,
or it lies dead in our savage
description---
and when the questioner came back after a few minutes,
unsatisfied with the absence of any answer
(as so many of us impatient imbeciles are),
after turning, the girl spoke a few phrases
which to the questioner seemed only nonsense at best,
as if she’d been spoken to in a language that she didn’t know---
what had been said was simply a description also,
one that felt only like another installment,
a domino in the falling, predictable effect,
wherein one person tries to get at the heart of the matter,
while the other tries to help them &
a million conversations begin, part ways &
begin again,
constantly picking up the baton & then dropping it,
be it like the boredom of rereading a “choose your own adventure” book,
or a fresh new mistake
found when the collision of the selves within
mess up the overall stability of the
whole.
Categories:
questioner, life, girl, girl,
Form:
Free verse
Question not the questioner,
for this is done in vain,
nor should we blame the blameless,
adding links to Marley's chain.
The defiant will not be defied,
their hearts are wrought of steel,
have empathy for the empath,
who took on this job to feel.
Don't second-guess the psychic,
whose visions she won't share,
and do not doubt the fairy-lights,
by woodland elves prepared.
See the magic in the magical,
this keeps the spirit young,
in innocence we hear the song
as it was truly sung.
©Danielle White
Categories:
questioner, allegory, fantasy, life
Form:
Rhyme
speaking to a dark current
in my own rhythm
the droning wash of tones
calling to all anxiety as kindred
collected here
to revel in exceptional acceptance
a rare platform for difficult emotions
fingering the feelings which words
are inadequate to describe
in this space
i am free to roam
unashamed
there are no wrong answers
because there are no questions
no questioner
only the endurance
of the un-involved observer
25 MAR 2016
PCOLA FL
Categories:
questioner, america, anxiety, appreciation, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
Oracle
The Wise, Mystical
Blessing, Spellcasting, Foretelling
Black Sorcerer, Divine, Innocent, Questioner
Listening, Ingesting, Participating
Curious, Wonderer
Querent
Tuesday, January 4, 2022
Categories:
questioner, appreciation,
Form:
Diamante
Me.
Unique,
Strong,
Fragile old girl, gentle questioner,
unshakeable hand,
Curious eye, quiet ear.
Categories:
questioner, identity, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Panic mongers, hate mongers,
traffickers in groupthink.
The key to the universe,
you must never let facts interfere
with all your
obsessive incessant fables.
You must never doubt the veracity of
of the latest tale of terror.
A secret Satanic elite of cannibalistic pedophiles,
All the liberals are in on it, don’t you know?
Soros and Gates in collusion.
Evangelical contagion,
the deep state under every bed,
the boogeyman behind it all.
Any questioner is complicit.
Any true believer will be saved.
Apophenia intoxication,
Donald Trump is your savior.
Your mind is malleable to malignancy,
It metastasizes in your trance.
The putrid contamination percolates
everywhere in deafening silence.
Each taste of QAnon venom,
Each flavor of terror,
seizes and imprisons the masses of minds
And if you listen, you will hear
the percussive funeral dirge
for the death of the civilized world.
Categories:
questioner, angst, anxiety, culture, evil,
Form:
Political Verse
THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took *
The one I wanted, because, I’m a strong person
Of course it goes without saying that my strength
Lies in the grace of God, and that is all well and fine,
But each has his individual path, because each
Is a unique person, a unique spirit following a unique
Spiritual journey, which starts with spirit,
And I was given loads of it by my mother.
It was all she could give me.
We were the poorest of the poor
In England in the days after World War Two
She was unwilling to see me pushed down
As she had been by circumstances.
She showed me how to overcome circumstances.
How to find a positive way of looking at each event
How to use events to the best advantage
She always told me I could do anything at all
If I only put my mind to the task
And she was right, and most of the stuff
I have put my mind to has been very successful
People will say well if you’re so able
Why has your path not made you rich
The question is as silly as the questioner
For not everyone is in search of riches
I have turned down high-paid jobs and
Contracts because they were
Not what I found interesting.
I have moved to several
Different countries to live and work,
Because I wanted a variety of stimulus
For my spiritual growth and strength.
And I am certain that spiritual life
Does not exist exclusively in churches,
But largely in doing the best you can for people,
And placing yourself second.
I have no idea if heaven exists
But if it is filled with the people who ask
Why are you not rich
I’m afraid it would not be the sort
Of stimulating place my spirit is seeking.
God keep me on the path which avoids
The people who ask such questions.
God keep me strong. He always has,
And that has made all the difference*
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . .
NOTE
*These two lines are from the Robet Frost poem The Road Less Traveled.
Categories:
questioner, inspirationalme, people, me, people,
Form:
Free verse
The museum is full of gangs,
child gangs that roam sneering at the 70’s people.
The 70’s people live now in a diorama.
For the most part they are cheerful,
they cut grass with push mowers,
swim in above ground pools.
By and large they don’t kill each other
or pillage the Malls.
Some are vets with grey ponytails -
they ride to forget.
The 70’s people that lived in New York
pretend not to have been there back then
and take long meditative soaks in crude
high rise jacuzzies.
Behind the glass
the 70’s people mechanically wave
at the hordes of sneering children.
A young questioner asks his handler
why the 70’s people are not all dead?
A reasonable question
which the handler deflects
with a long tale about dinosaurs.
Meanwhile the 70’s people
peer out of their mid-century homes
and watch the foot traffic
as if it were an older black and white TV.
The young are getting bored with the 70’ people.
they move on to stare incredulously at a representation
of humankind back in the 60’s.
The handlers also cannot quite believe their eyes,
they explain that though there are many artifacts
of that previous civilization
experts disagree as to origins
and the strangeness of their bygone lifestyle.
Salem Alabama and Woodstock
are small print on a sign no one reads.
The kids are hungry and whine loudly,
the school-outing is a bust so far.
Harassed handlers usher them into a cafeteria
where they slaughter the air
with a wolfish glee.
A few Jeer at an 80’s person
who has wandered into the wrong room.
Categories:
questioner, poetry,
Form:
Free verse