The life or death question
You could guess from the crowd
converging on the Memorial Hall
and on a Saturday night, that
the speaker must be world-famed in his field,
making his first visit to the college.
A French scientist of renown –
cognitive theory or some such –
turned Buddhist monk these thirty, forty years,
he carried the blessing and the curse,
the burden of responsibility not only of his vocation
but his fame. The hall was packed.
Serene – ‘together’ has to be the word –
he spoke for an hour; enthusiastic applause;
then question time.
There’s always that tense silence before
the first question…how will
the hall respond tonight? Will it hold the level
of the speaker’s mind? …we knew all too well
those ‘first question’ students – the one
who had to wrap a compliment in
confectioner’s sugar, eliciting an inward groan –
as if the speaker were unaware of his own ability...
she’d marry rich, then live a life of patronising
complacency bestowing well-publicised charity…
or the one whose ‘clever’ question blatantly advertised
to whoever might be impressed, beyond herself,
that she was already on the speaker’s wavelength
before the lecture and before the rest of us…
she’d commit herself to a future academic life
of maintaining this self-superiority,
exhausting herself, losing friends and influencing few…
but no – tonight it was that wild and self-abusive student
who seldom attended any lecture except to challenge –
‘Can you give me one single reason
why I should go on living? ’..
You could have heard a cliché drop..
a pin; a paperclip; but loud, the universal thought –
how could the speaker know, this was the brilliant boy
of already three serious suicide attempts…
representative of the rite of passage greatly magnified,
sex, drugs, rocknroll, and whatever lay beyond…
‘No… I cannot…’
This was the boy we detested, despaired of, tried to befriend,
hated for his disruption, but almost feared,
feared for the wild openness of his mind…
the hall united in hushed, waiting silence…
‘… for you have given yourself the reason –
you have asked the question few of us
have dared to ask… and a question
sincerely asked, brings its answer with it…
‘..when you hear the answer that your question
holds in its heart, like some golden lotus,
you will have the answers to all questions,
and you will be a wiser, happier man than me…’
only Buddhists and their like can smile
with such detached serenity; with
a space that’s full of meaning. The hall
broke into the laughter of relief; great laughter;
the unqualified love of five hundred students
poured like a mighty river on that boy
who was still standing, wild-haired –
and I saw that he was laughing too
and through my mind flashed the thought,
the air is full of angels..
where had those angels who laughed
so lightly with us, where had those angels been,
before; and would go, after?
The boy, still laughing as he left.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
His Answer To My Question Was A Question
His answer to my question
Was a question
My answer to his reply
Was returned
With another question
The game of
Answering and asking
Questions
Did not end
Till I questioned
The very motive
Of our conversation
We came to the conclusion
How to pass time?
Was the biggest question
Asking questions
And creating confusion
Was the answer
So we passed our time
Asking and answering questions
The question now is
Whether we did right or wrong?
The answer is
Why ask a useless question?
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A new question has arisen in modern man's mind, the question, namely, whether life is worth living... No sensible answer can be given to the question... because the question does not make any sense.
quote by Erich Fromm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Is The Way
Deep in the heart of the infinite darkness
A tiny blue marble is spinning through space
Born in the splendor of gods holy vision
And sliding away like a tear down his face
Closer you see the whole wide holy wonder
Of oceans and mountains and rivers and trees
And the strangest creation of many, the human
A creature of laughter and freedom and dreams
Now the warriors are waving their old rusty sabres
The preachers are preaching the gospel of hate
By their behaviour determined to teach us
A lesson were soon to be learning to late.
Look closer my brother, were killing each other
And wed better stop and get started today
Because life is the question and life is the answer
And God is the reason and love is the way.
Because life is the question and life is the answer
And God is the reason and love is the way.
Because life is the question and life is the answer
And God is the reason and love is the way.
Yes, life is the question and life is the answer
And God is the reason and love is the way.
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Honor Of Black History Month
...and, this year we are so excited,
In honor of Black History Month...
To provide a ten thousand dollar scholarship,
To anyone who can answer the following question.
And...
If you all notice,
You have been given the answer as is shown...
Amongst the choices from which to choose.
Either A, B or C.
Good luck!
Here is your question...
How many fingers are on the left hand?
You have five seconds to respond.
Place your one thumb on the buzzer.
And hold with your remaining four fingers,
On your left hand.
YES!
You are the first to respond.
Your answer is...?
'Hold up!
And don't be winking at me.
I ain't into that!
Supposing that left hand was held by someone else...
Guiding with valued assistance to choose the right path? '
That has nothing to do with the question asked.
NOR is that one of the answers already given.
One of them is correct.
The others are not.
'Look...
I need that ten thousand dollars.
And stop winking at me...
Pervert.'
Do you or do you not have the correct answer?
'Do you or do you not get on my last nerve? '
THIS is a contest.
'And THIS is my fist.
Do you mind repeating the question?
And don't look at me as if I'm the one stupid.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Enjoy Your Day
You approached me to ask a question.
And taking my time to listen...
With a response I had hoped,
You would comprehend.
Not only did you not do that.
But you edited my answer...
To 'insert' what you thought,
For you did not offend.
Now you accuse me of not being direct.
You say my answer,
For you is not effective.
You inject words connected to my response,
To something you rather accept.
And I hear your attempts,
To try to comvince others...
What it is I really meant!
'Why are you leaving? '
You asked me a question.
I answered it.
Now I take my exit.
To that do you also object?
'But I think your response,
Should be open to debate.'
First of all...
You approached me.
And the time given...
I did not hesitate.
You wanted to hear something you formulate.
Something in your mind you hoped I would find.
And I'm not wasting any more of my time...
To play a game of ping pong,
With someone who has yet to learn...
The reason or the effective use of the paddle.
And besides,
If I did decide to play...
It would be with someone,
Who had something meaningful to say.
And all you wish to do is to occupy space,
In the hopes someone will come forward...
To assist you in the use of it!
'Don't you think your point of view is a bit arrogant? '
That depends!
Is that your second question?
Or should I be seeking your permission to leave?
And neither question,
Do I seek from you an answer.
But I will give you the benefit...
To decide for yourself,
Which one eventually applies!
How is that?
Enjoy your day.
'You will not be asked back here again! '
Was I not already here when you entered?
Again...
Enjoy your day!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr Speaker Gets The Word
Wriggles from his captors arms
Mr speaker gets the word and
Running now from the alarms
Speaks his mind free as a bird
Free now to roam around
Stand up straight when he quotes
Spread the word that he has found
Books of verse and scribbled notes
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Stands up straight outside my door
I bring you now the words Ive learned
To whom it may concern senor
Tell my friends I have returned
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Excitement rages through his brain
Stirred and stirred throughout the years
Not enough time to explain
Eyes of many sighs of fear
Making space from colney hatch lane
Just some poetry my friend
Scuttles past my window frame
Vanishes right round the bend
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr Speaker
Wriggles from his captors arms
Mr speaker gets the word and
Running now from the alarms
Speaks his mind free as a bird
Free now to roam around
Stand up straight when he quotes
Spread the word that he has found
Books of verse and scribbled notes
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Stands up straight outside my door
I bring you now the words Ive learned
To whom it may concern senor
Tell my friends I have returned
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
Excitement rages through his brain
Stirred and stirred throughout the years
Not enough time to explain
Eyes of many sighs of fear
Making space from colney hatch lane
Just some poetry my friend
Scuttles past my window frame
Vanishes right round the bend
Mister speaker gets the word
(to tell the secrets he has heard)
Speaks so fast his words are slurred
(mister speaker gets the word)
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh So Simple Question
I have a question
I have a simple thought
I am the border obsession
I am the clever, the taught
You have my aggression
You have a complication
You are an angry expression
You are the unheard conversation
We have a serious problem
Something simple yet trying
You understand, you look solemn
You know exactly what question I’m implying
Now concentrate, ask it now
Your eyes beg not to be told
Tell it now, but tell it how?
How to tell this question I hold
Wait! Look at your eyes
Now desperate to know
The question I hide
The question I knew not long ago
NO! I no longer remember
The simple question I wanted to ask
That cold day, in that snowy December
Oh how I hate this shy mask
Maybe I will once again
Think of a simple question
Whilst I walk down memory lane
Maybe, one day, you will hear my confession
poem by Rebecca Pepper
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Question
Looking for question: have you got one?
Hungry for question: will you give one?
Looking for question
O Yeah
Looking for question
Because
God gives the answer.
God gives the answer
In so many ways!
That’s why
Looking for question
O Yeah
Searching for question.
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Teacher as healer: an observation
Even before the question put,
they’re full of quiet attention; something
is already being listened to.. makes
that space, in which a question
may be floated on the air..
tentatively perhaps, or self-concerned,
the question’s put; and listened to;
perhaps with gentle nod of head;
a keen attention; even a half-smile:
you and they are meeting now
in the fullness of the heart, in
a place that’s fully shared:
the teacher, almost eager, so it seems,
to hear more of your truth;
to hear the truth of you.
And as the question nears its end,
the answer floats upon the air
as if it and the question are but one;
the answer gently given, as if
already shared; not given,
not received; but already shared;
(and I saw: each time they said
the words ‘it is’, their spine
relaxed into a greater straightness..)
Who can describe that unity of mind -
as joy in stillness; or the bliss of peace?
Somewhere in the world of name and form,
something has been healed;
wholeness has returned to wholeness;
perfection taken, and returned;
the teacher, too, is still;
gifts of grace have been exchanged.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thousand Fold
(j. buckley)
I have no desire to make contact with all the thought of no, no.
I shiver now, to think of how this answer asked her, no.
Long time gone.
I run to my hide out.
There aint a star born that brightens
More than you, you always should have known,
Ill illuminate your question,
Long time ago Id died and gone.
What has brought the question?
Time has brought the question.
Come and call the question, oh, oh, oh.
Here are the stars, same thing again
Over, over, over, over, over, over
Over, over, over, over, over, over.
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Question Meaning
The meaning of the question
Is to always question meaning,
The meaning of life,
And the life of meaning.
The life unquestioned
Means very little,
Just as a life left meaningless,
Without question, has very little life.
Therefore, we all should daily question
The meaning of life,
By doing so, life's Meaning
Will unquestionably, each day, find us.
Remember: we are free to question meaning;
May we become free enough to
Let it freely question us.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Question
I don't have the answer
So why ask me, why?
Why do you ask me a question
When there is no reply?
As though the answer was this?
Did you know all along?
That so much space
Is weighed down in white silence
Who told you these things?
These imagined replies?
To the unanswered question
The question why?
There is no reply
But bad weather
Rough roads
There is no reply
Leave the rain alone
There is no reply
No reply
No answer to why
Leave the question alone
No face in the sky
No key to the door
No there is nothing, but nothing
So leave nothing alone
And turn round and go home
Watch the sea from your window
The waves rise and fall
Nothing but madness
And nothing at all! !
The moon's silver crescent
No time to recall
What is left
What is deaf
What is blind
To ritual?
To sign?
There's no pattern no season
No face in the wall
No reason too reasonable
To make no sense at all!
There is no reply
To pain
Love lost
To prayer
Why ask me these questions?
When there's no answer there?
yvette m smith july 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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When You Ask About Her Sorry But She Already Left
your question must fall away without
an answer
she already left two days ago
or perhaps she knew about your question
and she did not like it
i guess so, but i never asked her
she was too fragile for anything like your poem.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is no such thing as an unreasonable question, or a silly question, or a frivolous question, or a waste-of-time question. It's your life, and you've got to get these answers.
quote by Marcia Wallace
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Are You All Right?
They keep asking me this question
I don't know how to answer
They say it again
And I still don't have an answer
Really, what do you say to that
I could say I'm fine, but that would be a lie
I could say everything, but then they would keep asking me questions
Questions i couldn't answer
That's when I simply smile and walk away
The question that's always asked, but never answered
Are you all right?
That's for you to decide
(2-21-05)
poem by Brandi Young
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Must Be No!
No is no! that is what the answer must be
Before I destroy my soul and ruin my destiny
If I think an action might corrupt my virtue or my soul
Then the answer to that question, must always be no.
Never ever will I answer with a maybe or even a yes
When I know that someday that sin I must confess
Though I might not know alot but one thing I do know
When it conflicts my pride and honor, the answer is no.
My reputation and my values is what makes myself me
It is how that I am known from what others do see
So could I lie or cheat to cause others pain or woe
The answer to that question, will always be no.
No is no! and the question must end their
As I wont say yes to cause any sorrow or despair
I will not steal or rob from a friend or even a foe
And the answer to that question, is once again no.
Though I might meet with temptation or evil or corruption
It might enter my brain which will cause a disruption
But then one day I know my past it will unfold
And I will feel proud in those times, that I did say no.
A poor man has nothing a rich man has his wealth
But that will not send a soul to either heaven or hell
So will I lie or use to deceive either the young or the old
Once again to that answer, it will always be no.
poem by Randy McClave
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Quest and question
To ask a question beyond answering
may seem to some to be a waste of mind..
and yet it may advance some reasoning,
thus, other questions, real answers find:
for instance: if a soul remains itself
and yet is re-embodied many times
until it is returned to perfect health,
no longer grimy with our human crimes –
how can we guess, in this life’s noble aim,
what hideous past so slowly drags ‘our’ feet?
And – if we knew – would then some devilish claim,
the aim, to free our self, somehow defeat?
No answer comes; the question hangs in air;
but now it has been asked, truth may appear.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who Do You Love, I Hope
I've got the question
I've had it for days
You've got the answer, dear
I'll put the question
In one little phrase
Say what I want to hear
Who do you love I hope
Who would you kiss I hope
Who is it going to be
I hope, I hope, I hope it's me
Who do you want I hope
Who do you need I hope
Who is it going to be
I hope, I hope, I hope it's me
Is it the baker who gave you a cake
I saw that look in his eye
Is it the butcher who brought you a steak
Say that it is and I'll die
Who do you love I hope
Who would you kiss I hope
Who is it going to be
I hope, I hope, I hope it's me
[2]
I heard your question
The answer you know
Love is my middle name
You asked a question
That worried you so
Mind if I do the same
Who do you love I hope
Who would you kiss I hope
Who is it going to be
I hope, I hope, I hope it's me
Who do you want I hope
Who do you need I hope
Who is it going to be
I hope, I hope, I hope it's me
Is it the blondie who acted so shy
I heard the things that she said
Is it the redhead who gave you the eye
Say that it is and your dead
Who do you love I hope
Who would you kiss I hope
Who is it going to be
I hope, I hope, I hope it's me
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the spirit of Rumi - 23
I asked My Beloved
How may I know the secret
of being a perfect Sufi,
insan al-kamil,
a perfect Friend of God?
My Beloved said
You will never in your life be sure;
and that is just how it should be;
that way, you will be safe in Me;
instead, seek always where My secret might be found:
as you walk, look closely at all of nature;
every flower, every tree, every lake, every cloud,
every bird, every animal;
look closely at them, to see
if they hold My secret;
as you walk down the street,
look into the eyes of each human being
to see if they know My secret in their heart;
listen to every sound and every word
in case My secret hides within them;
or in the scent of roses, or in the taste of food;
go to sleep with this question on your lips,
wake with this question in your mind;
and though you will never find the answer,
one day the question shall cease to be a question
and become the song which you have always known.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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