Best Operator Poems
Smooth Elevator Operator
I truly am a smooth operator
When I let one loose in the elevator
If it’s only me there my air blows free
Have got my own detonator you see.
Able to let fly with such immense pride
And can play a fine tune from my backside
That is until others enter the lift
I tell them someone else has left the whiff.
* * *3rd August 2021
When I Let One Loose In The Elevator Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
*
The sound of the presses
While they run at high speed
The reporters and editor
Trying to fill a town's need
The feel of fresh newsprint
And the smell of the ink
Working on broken machinery
Sometimes old and extinct
Trying to meet deadlines
Proofreading as i go
A fast-paced stressful job
But it's work i love so
To see the newspaper
As it comes hot off the press
Taking pride in my printing
For in so many homes it will rest
To leave at days end
And feel pride in my chest
Now the town's got their news
I can go home, get some rest.
Note
TO = telephone operator
Self = myself speaking
TO: You have just reached Bedlam Associates Incorporations Ltd.
Our telephone number is 999999ad infinitum but a 9 is enough.
If you want to hear this message in English, please press 1
If you prefer any other language please press 2.
Self: I press 1.
TO: Good job, Sir. I only know English.
Self: (mumbling))
TO: How can I help you Sir?
Self: I have a problem with my Visa credit card.
TO: You have to chose from our menu:
Press 1 if you lost your card.
Press 2 if you have now found your card.
Press 3 if you found a card belonging to some one else.
Press 4 in case you use this card which does not belong to you.
Press 5 for any other question.
Self: I press 5
TO: So what do you want?
Self: I went to a public ATM and inserted my card.
TO: Did you insert it properly? If not press 1. If yes press 2.
Self: (Pressing 2) I’m not a cretin you know.
TO: So what’s the problem, SIR.
Self: I inserted my secret pin number…
TO: Was it the correct pin?
Self: Of course (mumbling). I then saw the amount of money
available to me. So I pressed 500. But I only got 100.
TO: Press 1 if you want a receipt. My records show you pressed
100.
Self: I’m not blind, you know. I pressed 500.
TO: You have only one option. Go to the nearest bank,
Goodbye Sir. Come again soon.
Although this conversation is fictions, it did happen to me. Only the TO was quite nice about it.
He treads proudly towards his target
With his hair immaculately cut to style
As if he is fresh from a barber shop
-You should know he is up to something.
He is always adorned with sumptuous jewellery
And a pungent smell of a cologne
Oh, how pleasing he smells...
-He is up to something.
He has a wondrous smile
-that is supposed to melt hearts
and a wink in his eyes
-He is up to something.
As he smoothly begins to say his usual blarney lines,
Words so convincing
And suppose to lure you into something
-You should know he is no good.
This free verse was written from an agnostic point of view
so may appear biased, against organised religions
I assure you this is not my intention, and it is simply a poem
For the record, I have told lies in the past, and still do occasionally
The tannoy operator
And so it came to pass at a certain time in human history
the greatest illuminati in civilisation are called together
with only one question to solve
IS THERE ONE TRUE GOD!
Physicists, philosophers, professors, sit round an enormous table
No religious leaders where invited,
as they are deemed to be extremely prejudiced,
Besides they already believe in many relevant Gods
depending on their denomination and orientation,
Stern faces stare across the table at each other
For this matter is to be taken, with the utmost gravitas,
All known religious texts are brought in, and piled high on the table,
“Search the evidence” echoes over a tannoy system
All the texts are studiously scrutinised, over the ensuing days
After which the great debate is due to begin in earnest,
But first a show of hands is called for, by the tannoy operator
and this question put to them,
“Have you found one true God”
but alas nobody raises a hand,
“Ok so let the great debate begin”
They all just look at each other, stand up shake hands,
leave the room, and go their separate ways
Unknown to these illuminati another conference had been called in secret
by the tannoy system operator
Only this time, it was between the various religious leaders,
Again after pouring over all the texts
the same question was put to them,
“Have you found one true God”
and sure to form, every one of them raise their hands
But then unbelievably stand up, and prepare to leave the room,
“You cannot go, without revealing who God is”
echoes from the tannoy
Just then a massive argument erupts, spilling over into fisticuffs
Indeed this status quo, has remained ever since.
By
David Kavanagh
*This poem is sung to the music of Sade's seminal song, "Smooth Operator."
Intro:
He’s ranting with a spiteful hurl,
and taunting with a choler heart
Spewing crude statements, making lewd comments
He’s hated in seven languages
Zircon nights and silicon lights, sinthetic high in the sky
Hades help him, when he falls
Crass carat life, grifter boy
He crawls in space with hubris haste and mischievous joy
Backroom lights and back alley nights
Few do enquire his penthouse ire of shakedown heights
No place for losers or gullible hearts
when his diss enchantment wants to lip dance
Got head space for suckers with nowhere to pity park
Chorus:
Mo’ jeers to cast,
he’s an uncouth operator
Uncouth operator, uncouth operator
Uncouth operator
Roast to roast, NY to Fargo, vitriol rail
Across the Rio water
and Mex border, to Amarillo, insults assail
He’s an uncouth operator
Uncouth operator, uncouth operator
Uncouth operator
Cobra face do debase,
he viper coax and venom tox
Boa greed to disgrace
A license to hate, annoyance to scold
Forge all your apathy pain into fools goad
His thoughts volcanic glow, but his words erupt cold
Chorus:
No cheers to cast,
he’s an uncouth operator
Uncouth operator, uncouth operator
Uncouth operator
Roast to roast, NY to Fargo, vitriol rail
Across the Rio water
and Mex border, to Amarillo, insults assail
Mo’ jeers to cast,
he’s an uncouth operator
Uncouth operator, uncouth operator
Uncouth operator
Where are your upstairs friends?
The coffee break girls;
Credit card tight,
Newly coifed,
Numerously heeled
And
Playing a little material bridge.
Where are the elevator girls?
Those check booked cynical
Fifteen minute friends.
The boss kissers;
Union mothered now
Skipping rope in third grade circles.
Are you still upstairs big time,
Afraid of that ground floor?
Tight backed
polished bags.
Billing friends;
Lonely little time certificates.
Where are all your front desk pals;
Weekday girl scouts?
Locker liquor safe.
Ladies room tokers.
Sold out till Friday,
Crying on the phone till dawn.
I saw you through that upstairs window
Waving paper children.
Tuesdays friend.
Sundays weeper.
Watched, clocked and counted;
Moving to the sound of silver.
Love's an electric
blanket--Someone else is in
control of the switch!
Why can’t I dial the last number?
I have tried to call you all day
but my finger just won’t
push that 2.
You won’t answer.
But I have to try.
To tell you what?
Why do I feel the need to call?
To apologize
for showing honest emotion?
To hear your voice –
so I can deny once more
why I was upset in the first place?
Or just to know we’re both alive…
Smooth Operator
it was late in the evening & on the street
had my body kit waxed on my Camry
fenders had a slasp of silver so did the rims
stero was blasting to my favorite song
Like Michael Jackson & Stevie B
rolled into my neighborhood bar many looked out at my car
I was fixing to put one on slamming back drinks until I couldn't even think
out in the back was the girl of my dreams named Sara
I smiled in her direction needing some sweet affection
much to my surprise she had a bun in the oven from her secong cousin
was it any wonder i had too much time on my hands
Still I made a play for sweet Sara
she was so very nervous i could hear it in her voice
but it was my choice to dance with her in the middle
perhaps i was playing second fiddle or loosing the ball in a dribble
that's why they call me the smooth operator today
I used my many talents that God gave me
but I was a dear gentleman to Sara and raised her baby as our own
took a chance in the dark in that i lit the spark to what i was waiting for
although the many years have passed still having every reason to grasp
how much a love can grow the strong beat of the tempo
in the way we should go
so today I still wax my Camry with every fiber in me
the times have changed but the love still grows
been knocked to the ground but my hope still shows
now every place that I go I'm known as the smooth operator
would you like another ice cream flavor
it's just sugar & spice with everything nice
once this life is through no second chance to roll twice
Across the river there’s a crane
That’s 30 stories high,
The operator like
A Lego man up in the sky.
As loads are lifted in the air
And gently set in place,
I wish that I could clearly see
That operator’s face.
I know I would be terrified
But likely, he is not.
I cannot fathom how he even
Reached that sky-high spot.
Yet he is up there, hard at work
While safely down below,
I gaze at the construction site
And watch the building grow.
The tour operator is crazy
In the name of wildlife safari
We are
In the midst of
Ferocious tigers, bisons, hyenas
We planned to share
Some poetry and painting
For the forthcoming examination
What to do
To be with the beasts
Or with the books
We are at a loss
A inspired dedicated verse to Panagiota Romios
"I need His emergency number"
Operating, operator dear angel;
Please give me
The number, phone number to God
I need your assistance
Operator your emergency number is 7 7 7- 7 7 7 -7 7 7 7
Operator I need help with this
I need instead make a make a person-to-person call
To my God
Could you show me how?
Operators speaking this is all you need to just fall on your knees hold up your head and hands
Look up
Look up
Talk
Speak up to the heaven I would cry
And just talk to the Lord what's on your mind
For you see in prayer God's always open
Oh, please God O Jesus please open your holy ears and receive me
Mercy dear Lord have mercy on me
Oh, and talk to me and hear my heart and heal my soul
Oh, Father you say
What is this conversation you have your doubts in Me what's the 411 open up the Books of Truth
You say I'm there I'm here read, read, prayer, pray
Just talk to me
Just talk to me if you want acknowledgement of me
For I will soothe your heart
Relieve you of Doubt
Control your animosities and finally comforting will bless your heart and comfort you
Just be still and talk to me
9/7/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr & Panagiota Romios 2019©
*based on words inspired by “Panagiota Romios” in bold print..
From forthcoming anthology
“Inspired In boxed Word Write Collabs #1”
M-essages
A-nd
R-egards
Y-ield
A-nother
N-ice
N-ote
V-alidating
E-xceptional
L-ine
O-f
S-mooth
O-perator
Topic: Birthday of Mary Ann Veloso (February 08)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
I share with you, what I know.
I learned away, my love did show.
In times dis-pare, Frustration stares.
Anger builds and minds are filled,
With thoughts... and like the wind,
Given room to begin again.
Pressure builds the blood flow fast,
The ride is on... hold steady your last,
Breath of air. Know your heart...
And what lives in there.
It feels quite right, insight to hear.
But know your heart...
Where you've been in there.
You'll face it straight.
Never hesitate, take time to know.
See yourSelf, head on to grow.
Navigate, express yourself,
Your heart will cause your move.
When the Winds are on, all things are.
~We've Reached.The Operator.
~One upon a Star.T
~All things.WANaFeASTAble!