The wonderful, not once but twice Pushcart-nominated poet and outstanding human being Val B Russell, has set up a poetic challenge on her blog Words. It involves answers to the Proust questionnaire and removal of the questions.
Here is my response (maybe not as stream of consciousness as she would like – but that would be too revealing, wouldn’t it – haha – gotta keep something hidden in the jewellery box).
Answers without Questions (Me)
What is a virtue?
a man at harmony with himself,
a man with an inner steel,
a man with reverence for women,
a woman with a funny bone,
a woman with compassion,
a woman with an ear for the music.
I have flexibility,
like a sloth, I adapt to branch structure,
as long as I can get enough sleep
within the chaos of this zoo, called life.
Friends are best loyal and honest
(though a sprinkling of white lies
can be like hundreds and thousands on buttered bread).
I have a main(s) fault but I’m waiting
for the plumber to come and fix it
he’s very handy is my plumber
Handy Andy is his name;
I married a plumber,
a plumber I married,
a beer plumber he turned out to be,
now that’s what I call handy.
My favourite occupation
would be to jam in syncopation,
with musos of all persuasions
and be paid for my deliverations.
harmony, peace, shalom,
freedom from strife
Were they happy days
when my children were born?
They were transcendental!
Misery is an everyday
inconsolable, prisoner of insoluble despair,
sitting on the couch with the curtains closed
waiting for the lights to go out
If I was not myself
I would be Stephen Fry,
without the fame
without the dangly bits,
I would be Stephanie Fry!
I would like to live
on the side of a mountain
in a self-sustainable commune,
but, without the hard work.
Red (with blue undertones)
is the tempered fighter in my soul,
the favoured one in the spectrum.
I love a tulip
cool and collected
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s
The Little Prince
(if that is who they really are)
My mind is in the state
of misty disarray,
dysphoria and joy.
Toleration I do have
for many faults and failings
but dipsomania is the one
that leads the pack,
taking all considerations.
If my children were possessions,
the most treasured possession they would be
but we don’t own our offspring
so photos of my children, it must be.
My greatest extravagance
is a piano I bought in advance
of learning to play
the damn thing in a way
that makes others long to sing and dance.
If I had a secret indulgence
and you asked me what it was
I would happily respond
That’s for me to know and you to find out.