Best Telemarketing Poems
A day when everything goes your way
I must be doing something wrong
when you do everything on your checklist
Haven't I forgotten something?
when all those checks arrive in the mail
How many will bounce?
when your wife listens to you and says you're right
Are you sure you're feeling well, dear?
when your teenagers clean up their rooms voluntarily
Go ahead and treat yourself to some recreational marijuana, guys
when your boss gives you an unscheduled raise
Uh-oh. What miracle does he want out of me now?...
when you get in the swiftest check-out line in the supermarket
when you make every green light on your commute to and from work
when you win Powerball AND Little Lotto
when you get zero telemarketing calls
when this dream ends with
a wet, sloppy kiss from
your loyal, trusty dog...
I don't need vinyl siding or great long distance rates.
I don't need health insurance or trips to distant states.
I don't need what you're selling, so please get off my phone.
All I want is peace and quiet; now, leave me alone.
(chorus)
Don't call here again, Don't call here again,
All I want is peace and quiet; don't call here again.
Don't call here again; don't call here again;
All I want is peace and quiet; don't call here again!
You have interrupted dinner or other plans we've made.
If I could reach right through this phone I'd hit you with a spade.
You've stated lots of "fine print" for me to shovel through.
Now listen close 'cause here's my plan: don't call me, I'll call you!
(chorus)
Sing verse to the tune of "The Yellow Rose of Texas"; sing chorus to the chorus of "Bringing in the Sheaves"
The phone rings;
It's Evariste Galois.
The phone rings;
It's Budapest on ice.
The phone rings;
It's my grandmother,
long dead.
The phone rings.
I refuse to answer.
What's if it's the Grim Reaper?
It keeps ringing.
Maybe it's Publisher's Clearinghouse
Informing me that I won
the sweepstakes.
I don't care.
I just don't care
Most likely
It's telemarketing,
And I'm in no mood
For that on any other scam
On this
Steep-pitched Monday.
Phone call after phone call
Sometimes begging for a sale
The man simply could not stay away from drugs
Gone now to the other side
After enjoying many`` highs
I continued to work there
Made plenty of sales
But eventually quit
Once a couple of us tried to unionize the place
We didn't do it
Death of a telephone salesman
Happens all too soon
In the field of telemarketing
Often too soon
Radios blaring, televisions drumming on and on and on
The faucet drips, the dishwasher hums
A soft blowing sound from the air conditioner
The refrigerator dropping ice..then filling with water
Ticking clocks on the bed stands
The ringing of the phone from some telemarketing service
My own voice droning on the answering machine after the irritating beep
Swirling swooshes of ceiling fans
Another tire hitting the storm drain on the road behind my home
The roar of a lawnmower…followed by a trimmer…then a blower
Birds chattering in the many trees in my yard, some chirping, some whistling
A neighbor’s dog barking at the children out front, yelling mixed with laughter
My thoughts invaded with uninvited sounds
Dozens of intruders flying through my ears
I sometimes long for just a moment
When the air isn’t filled with all these noises
Every day I get woken up
As the sun comes up
By my phone ringing
With a fake call
It seems that the only people
Who ever bother to call me
Are the fake call people
Who all call me
With fake sincerity
Offering me a great deal
On this and that scam
I curse at them
Yell at them
Mutter obscenities in foreign tongues
And block their calls
Yet it does not seem to matter
The next call will be
Yet another fake call
Am I doomed to receive
Fake calls until I day I die
I turn on my computer
And read my fake news accounts
And watch TV for the latest fake news
And the politicians lying
And the criminals scheming
To take my money
The Zappa song comes to mind
You will obey me while I lead you
And eat the garbage that I feed you
Until the day that we don't need you
Don't go for help . . . no one will heed you
Your mind is totally controlled
It has been stuffed into my mold
And you will do as you are told
Until the rights to you are sold
That's right, folks . . .
Don't touch that dial
And I scream to the universe Just leave me alone
Then the phone rings…..
Look at those leper thieves in the temple,
crooked preachers taking their crouching cut
Spotted souls standing at the pulpit,
spewing false doctrines of idol prosperity
Blind guides for the carnal-minded simple,
scaly bellies full of paper worms from the flesh glut
Iscariot eyes ... silver coins culprits
Clouds without water, empty wells of charity
Partakers of the beheading and crucifixion,
trading places with a devilish grin
Sons of Herod and Pilate
wearing ceremonial cloaks of iniquity
Leopard paw jaws speaking carcass perdition,
shedding innocent blood is a kill sin
Holy laws they love to violate,
lusting to rule with wanton authority
Smell the greedy dogs who can’t get enough,
wicked moneychangers vomiting on the feast table
Balaam eyes receiving their Judas sop,
carry that holey money bag bound tight to their hip
Robed impostors living on an identity bluff,
telemarketing bazaar salvation purchased on cable
Selling good luck incense 6 dollars a pop,
as their alm lips got a closed grip on the money clip
I used to telemarket
Met a lot of would be actors and actresses there
The work was onerous
not as onerous as some jobs
Now I work at ESL and write verse
and articles
I plan to see the Brooklyn Cyclones play soon
As for tea
I take mine green
I take mine
I take
I
I needed a job to pay the bills
not knowing what I was getting into.
A telemarketing company if you can believe
selling pieces of Titanic’s carpet with a view.
They said it was a great opportunity
but they lied about everything.
Forced to stand all day while answering phones
not caring about the pain or the bullying
The customers were rude and angry
hanging up or swearing at their worst.
They said they would never want to buy
a piece of history that was probably cursed.
My coworker next to me was creepy
he always gave me a strange little smirk.
He talked to me inappropriately
I just wanted to get away from the jerk.
My boss was by far the worst
he called me to his office each day.
Saying he wanted us to have some fun
fondling me and not letting me get away.
I was so scared and disgusted
I didn't know what I should do.
I quit that job after five agonizing days
seeking a new job with an appropriate crew.
That was the worst job I ever had
I wish I could see them once more.
I would make them pay for all the abuse
And finally prove that I’m no one’s w**re.
*I wrote this poem on January 23, 2024, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ January challenge. This was day 23 and the prompt was: You Can’t Fire Me, I Quit: Use one of the worst job-related memories you can think of as a creative writing prompt. I worked for five horrifying days as a telemarketer. It was/is a very traumatic experience in my life. I chose to write it in a slightly humorous way. One day I will write a full blog about my job from hell. I wrote two poems about my job. The other one is called “Five Days of Telephonic Hell.”
Exacerbated with thought
by the subtraction of calculation
a frustrating calibration
Tongues twisting and turning
Computing images of relations
extracting time and patience
withdrawing from allegations
telemarketing frustrations
With calls of aggravation
Irritating the mind,
Hanging Up
" a light tongue twister lol"
sent forth from Church's
in America
to medicate Jesus Christs Sins
Buyor's or Sellor's of Contemptuous
Days, a pawn, a brillo saint
from vaccinations conundrum
Persevered by rogues of sugar
cubes