Best Dial Poems
Friends don't let friends drunk dial
or drunk text
for some reason when alcohol mixes into the bloodstream
it is like a "hit or miss"
some people get drunk or tipsy and want to fight and talk s%*#!
others have a sip of liquor or beer and everybody they encounter is their best friend
I drink to have fun and KNOW my limits
I can drink grown men under the table, and still maintain common sense
I drink and have fun become the life of the party even!
My only downfall is when i drink i have diarrhea of the mouth!
I will tell u my whole life story and more u cannot get me to shut up
Then i grab my phone and call or text the only person i swore i wouldn't
and in the morning i look at my phone and see that i left a long text that can pass for a
short story
and I hold my head down. reluctantly read what i wrote the night before and then ask my girls
"WHY DID U LET ME DO THIS"
lol! My GUILTY PLEASURE...
I LOVE TO WRITE, SO WHEN I GET A BIT TWISTED I EXPRESS MY FEELINGS WITH SO MUCH DETAILS
HELD , CORRECTLY SPELLED AND NO WORRIES HELD
BUT I EXPOSE MYSELF TO THOSE UNWORTHY AND UNDESERVING
IGNORANT OR OBLIVIOUS TO THE OBVIOUS,
AYUDAME! FOR I NEED HELP
DO NOT LET ME TEXT OR CALL ANYONE WHEN UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF AN ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE
THE SPIRIT OF THE SUN DIAL
I tell the sunny hours throughout the day
From dawn til dusk imparting my fair message
Evoking warmth and love throughout the day
No time for shadows hinting at dark presage
But when the shade of night engulfs my dial
A darkening of spirit, life force scorns
The moon now points the hours of denial
Its gleam bare luminating dismal forms
I see the blackness in the hearts of men
And feel despair that overcomes the soul
My spirit plumbs a dark and secret glen
Til lambent rays tint peaks; at last console
Then blessed dawn brings sun in its ascension
Restores my purpose vital, my redemption
Yes, the topic we have for today
( We are on a ten second delay.)
would most surely be me!
Where would all of you be?
If I do not run down or nay say?
No dial tone to dote on
My memory is made
And my format is filthy
The tone is tempting
But the pause is pressing
My volume is voiceless
And the channels are changing
And a constricting clasp on cancel
Is my only option
The Clock
dial bright-white
imposed with
bold-black numbers
scored sounding
repetitive
like 1-2, 1-2, 1-2
or
tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock
dial colors
contrasted
tick-tock sounds
perfect precision.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 16, 2018 (Imagism)
Two clouds hugged the sun
Sinking on the horizon
Slipping day now done.
15.12.2020
HI-KU (2)
Brian Strand.
Don’t take me for granted and don’t leave me alone,
Because maybe when you call next time I won’t be at home,
At home,
You should’ve known,
You set yourself up for the dial tone,
Dial tone,
I’ve been used,
I’ve been battered and bruised,
But when it comes down to it,
I’m stronger than you,
I won’t run from the starting gun,
I won’t be afraid to love someone,
Someone,
I’ve been so afraid all these years,
Given into all my fears,
I refuse, I refuse
I won’t run away from you,
Give me reasons in your own words,
Give me freedom with a truthful sword,
It may hurt but it’ll be my board,
To lead me on to something more,
Just give me honesty,
Give me something,
Because I’m torn,
I want to give him what I gave to you,
But you took everything I had with you,
Set me free,
Leave me be,
Don’t take me for granted and don’t leave me alone,
Because maybe when you call next time I won’t be at home,
At home,
You should’ve known,
You set yourself up for the dial tone,
Dial tone,
I only tell of sunny hours...
where rays of warmth embrace the flowers
or melt the snow laying upon the lawn;
but these momentary shadows creep quietly soured
casting light between the trees and fawns
while industrious humanity, creation's spawn
is blinded to nature's rhythmic song
and day light slips quickly along.
Sundial wisdom,
the Julia Ward contest 2/11/19
Willie in his 80s now
hadn’t made sense in years.
His wife understood his
grunts from the recliner
where she propped him up
till bedtime where snoring
was music in the night.
His grandson told neighbors
Gramps had Old-Timer’s Disease,
an excellent diagnosis
with which doctors agreed.
It was time to move Gramps
to a home so his wife began
packing things he would need.
It was then she found
an old photo in a drawer
under his socks and shorts.
It was dated 1948, still clear
though crinkled a bit.
It was Gramps’ class photo
from his 8th-grade graduation.
All the young faces were suns
gleaming in their own universe.
She showed it to Willie when
she brought him his lunch.
He blinked and pointed to a girl
in the third row and said,
“Call Carol and tell her
we’re going to the movies.
Tom Mix and 25 cartoons.”
His wife was old enough
to remember that a Western
and 25 cartoons were a
regular Saturday matinee
at the local film house
for kids in 1948.
But she was two years
behind Willie and had
never gone with him.
Besides she was still shook
just to hear Willie talk.
This was the first sentence
he had offered in years.
She didn’t know what to say.
Finally she said she didn’t
know what Carol’s number was
so how could she call?
Willie looked her in the eye
with a twinkle from long ago
and said “Prospect 6-3943.”
Donal Mahoney
fresh and new I choose
dialed back veneer new view
dial it back when
the hands of times send
myself back into the grace
life in heaven space
live new in mom's womb
to beginnings before back
before now way back
5/2/19
Dial It Back Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Maureen McGreavy
They set their clocks by flower petal
As they open or close-
Bethlehem Star,Sowthistle
Julap,Field Marigold
or scented Evening primrose
The Dial-a-Ride crew are here for you,
ready with a smile we go the extra mile,
take you door to door - who could ask for more ?
We take your wheelchair for no extra fare,
£3 each way is all you pay,
so you can afford to come on board,
call us now to find out how.
The dial of time is eternal,
Its cogs never rusting,
Never cracking,
And never giving in.
For time is with all things,
Either in space or
In the cytoplasm of our cells,
Time is there.
However,
Is reality as strong as time?
Is it unyielding
or does it let some things slip through the cracks?
Reality almost seems like a playground.
All these talks of things happening that we can't simply find possible,
That our reality can not handle.
For everyone's reality is different.
It matters where you live,
How you were raised.
You're knowledge of right and wrong
Might be different from mine.
The talk of ghosts and ghouls haunts us,
Monsters and aliens only expand our curiosity.
The ultimate reality is unknown,
What is true and untrue is lost to us yet,
Just out of our reach.
So yes,
reality maybe hold up a front.
That it is strong,
Unbreakable,
To the tides of change and discovery.
But it is not.
It never has been.
I could tell you something
that might completely change your reality,
While mine is unaffected.
For realities always change,
As they are just another cog in the dial of time.
As change is the conductor,
Turning and turning the dial and never tiring.
For time can not stop.
And your reality will not stay the same
Masses love fear
Immensely so very wrong
Fear has scary claws
That glow in the night
Robbing us of all our might
March 12, 2020
4pm PST
Tanka Form
Yo, wake up, Van!
Brother, you’ve been asleep for a good long while
Things sure have changed a lot;
reality took a dark turn,
being so boorishly bad is fashionably back in style
Like a rip in time,
Van, your thug gangsta days
is now ancient crime
Whatcha did, and whatcha wanna do,
it don’t matter much
A little twinkle winkle bell
told me that you was down for change
That you just needed a positive monetary boost
Listen and understand, Van —
you fell asleep with the TV on,
and the subliminal messages must’ve seeped thru
and brainwashed you
You can’t jumpstart an old car,
and expect to get far
down the same rocky road
Besides, your pockets still got holes;
and your mind got Swiss tissues,
full of charcoal fluid materialistic issues
Don’t you see,
it’s all about to go up in flames
any Green paper Day now
Bigger sharks than you are on the prowl,
and Van, you’ve gotten couch potato soft, my man
I can see the voices are telling you
to sit back and relax ... close your eyes
Take a load off
and rest a little longer for a good while
But whatever you do, the drowsy bug voices
in yo’ head says: Don’t touch that dial!
Let the reruns play ...
Don’t touch that dial!
Put the snooze alarm on timer delay ...
Don’t touch that dial!
No need to fret and worry ...
Don’t touch that dial!
And definitely don’t watch and pray —
Put down the phone,
let the emergency dial tone drone
Just close your eyes
and get your pacifying smoke on