Saturday, April 3, 2010

Phobia Index

It's Day #3 of Read Write Poems' NaPoWrMo Challenge! Today's assignment is to write a poem about something that scares you. Unfortunately, there are so many things that I am frightened of, I was unable to pick just one. For a glimpse into the cowering, sniveling, yellow-bellied bowels of my psyche, feel free to peruse my personal phobia index. Enjoy the ride!

Phobia Index

fear of success
fear of falling, of hitting ground
fear of survival situations
fear of drinking salt water while on a life raft
fear of bus collisions
fear of too many flowers
fear of getting lost in the aisles of the grocery store
fear of not coming back
fear of tiny ants in swarming masses
fear of eating far too many eclairs
fear of exposed wires
fear of cutting myself on purpose
fear of aging
fear of being ignored
fear of being noticed
fear of surgery
fear of wrath, others and my own
fear of stagnation
fear of the chaos that heralds change
fear of control freaks
fear of not having control
fear of having control
fear of hidden cancer
fear of weevils
fear of motel sheets
fear of slurping noises
fear of spoiled food
fear of arachnids
fear of arachnids
fear of arachnids
fear of deception
fear of going blind
fear of apartment fires in the middle of the night
fear of losing my shoes
fear of someone reading my first draft
fear of prescriptions
fear of unseen entities visiting me nights
fear of lead in the drinking water
fear of night driving
fear of being kicked by horses
fear of hording
fear of bridge collapses
fear of torture
fear of untenable situations
fear of Greys
fear of underground bunkers
fear of regimentation
fear of berets
fear of dart guns
fear of bicyclists
fear of bus crazies
fear of myself

--Kristen McHenry


Kimberlee said...

I love it. :) I have some of the same fears. Not just bus crazies, but riding the bus too.

Nice take on the challenge.

Cara Holman said...

I can totally relate! Nice job.

Wayne Pitchko said...

nicely you got me scared...thanks for sharing

Dale said...

of Greys? What are they?

Kristen McHenry said...

Dale!! You don't know what a Grey is? Well you are in dire peril if you don't watch out for them...they are coming for your DNA!! ;)

Frank Moraes said...

I fear only two things: pain and immortality, which are really just the same--not to get too Schopenhauer on you, but it's simply the way I've been feeling recently (the last ten years or so).

Are you serious about "someone reading my first draft"? I scoff at any writer with such hubris. Do you really think anyone believes that anything you do the first time is good? They don't. Not really, anyway; again: Schopenhauer.

I ridicule you more at

where I hope you will go and perhaps we can catch up. I am in need of your theatrical insights--really. (Oh: my email is frank at my URL)

rallentanda said...

You seem to be fearful of a lot
I would add Frank Moraes to the list!

Dale said...

Ah! I see. They're welcome to it; the species has already gotten whatever dubious use it may have had :-)

Frank Moraes said...

I am absolutely harmless, despite my best efforts. Schopenhauer, however (yes, back to him) is not. I think almost all those I see have turned into Ionesco rhinos. Thus, it is simply that our species is evolving in the way that best suits The Will's dubious, no, evil use. It is no longer necessary for the The Will to provide us an illusory sense of self; as rhinos we need no phantom soul: we have "Dancing With the Stars" and "Cops" and yet another production of one of "That Bard's" plays (for the rhinos who haven't noticed the horn yet).

On bad days, I feel I am in "Evil Dead"; on good days, "Evil Dead II." If only I could find my way into "Dead Snow". Alas. Again: immortality; can any of you think of anything worse? (Not that I'm unhappy; I'm quite pleased with my illusory life; I just wish it paid better.)

Frank Moraes said...

To avoid writing some very necessary pornography (not in the Tom Wolfe sense), and to complete the "assignment", and to prove that I can walk my talk, here is my ten minute--as close as I can come to a first draft, and I still bet those fools over at "Exquisite Corpse" would publish it--poem, which I will banally call "My Fears":

me hard
chip fairy
tooth ice
cream head

me mind
factor ice
cream heart

no mind
me soft
thinking nice
dream life

Retched, but see what you can do in ten minutes. Consider creating a kind of exquisite corpse from it: use the same words and write something non-retched or less-retched, or more-retched. The last is probably the most interesting alternative, because I don't think one can take this piece out of retchedland. You would be, after all, stuck with the same sub-genius references and stupid puns. There just aren't enough words to give you much room to move: chip fairy tooth ice cream head ache? Egad!

I'm gone.

Kristen McHenry said...

Nooooo! Come back, Frank!!! I am not afraid of you, you hear???!!!

Anonymous said...

I adore list-poems, yet I feel almost too-indulgently ashamed for the glory of your fears!

And again, the abiding craft of your fine work is right in hand, if hidden at all, only by virtue of being so obvious in sight. (pardon that sentence please)

Your poems are not "over dressed", they are just right.