Best Telephoned Poems
Initially, Lady adopted just the gray One for love and fun.
A pal gifted another, a kitten who needed a Mother.
Though spayed, One let Two nurse and her milk did disburse,
said a Vet whose face crunched, bemused and confused.
For One and Two days passed with Lady’s love steadfast.
Cat Three showed in winter’s cold, wanting warmth’s hold.
At first, Three was snubbed by grown One and growing Two.
Eventually their curiosity was peaked by things Three did do,
strange things Cat One and Cat Two could not reason thru.
Three stole garments from the basket of Lady’s dirty clothes,
dragged them into corner places that she carefully chose,
and then she, Cat Three, exposed all to odd licking throes.
Appalled, One and Two would withdraw and prissily pose,
until pride turned trite when Lady raced a laser, red light.
Four showed one Spring day, when Lady saw a gray tail sway
belonging to a striped, cat-baby who had no home or safety.
Lady immediately, eagerly, telephoned her brother, Clark,
and asked if Four would officially make her a Crazy Cat Lady.
He spoke, but she could not quite hear the words from Clark,
not over his ten dogs harmonizing a united, piercing bark.
Categories:
telephoned, animal, cat, crazy,
Form:
Rhyme
Strolling along through Gumgulli Park
where shadows of trees made it quite dark.
Absorbing birdsong filling the air,
taking in beauty with barely a care.
Some people were out walking their dog,
others were passing me out on a jog.
Quite a few kids were kicking a ball,
and noisy miners were having a brawl.
And there on a seat alone in the park
I saw the figure of one Basil Clarke,
sitting alone and just staring ahead
with a look so forlorn and nothing said.
So I thought it best to comfort the man.
I sat beside Basil to help how I can.
The first question I asked to ease the bumps -
“How come you’re looking down in the dumps?”
Basil declared that on three weeks ago,
an uncle died that he barely did know,
but in uncle’s will it opened his eyes,
for ten thousand dollars was a surprise.
I gave my condolence for Basil’s loss,
even though I’m sure he don’t give a toss,
so I wished him well for his good luck,
but Basil’s reply left me dumbstruck.
“I’m just getting started” Basil bemoaned,
“Just two weeks ago I was telephoned;
a cousin I barely knew curled up his toes.
His twenty thousand helped with my woes.”
You must have been over the moon I said.
Basil shrugged and just nodded his head.
I was slightly shocked at Basils’ reaction -
his depression was just gaining traction.
“And just last week my grandpa passed away,
and they read out his will in the usual way.
I got one hundred grand from the old coot”
and all of a sudden Basil went mute.
I was quietly shocked with Basil now numb,
so I asked Basil why he’s looking glum,
and Basil’s response had a horrible ring,
“Well this week there is nothing – not a thing!”
Categories:
telephoned, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Luke* and Frank* were my cousins from two of my father’s sisters.
Luke and Frank lived in the same city, and I joined them for an important family event. I had not seen nor spoken to either of them for more than 40 years. When I arrived, I telephoned Luke.
Luke was a year older than me and having grown up together, we were well acquainted with each other. Luke and his family moved 2000 miles away when I was 13. Frank and I knew each other as young kids but were not well acquainted. When I saw them again after 40 years, their response to me was a vast story in contrast. I have shared this story with other members of the family. Where appropriate, I have not revealed their identity, desiring not to be offensive in any way.
Upon arriving in their city, I spoke with Luke over the phone. I was excited in my voice tone and very delighted to finally renew our acquaintances. However, I was stunningly surprised by the response from Luke on the other end. I was quickly mistaken to think that I would at least be warmly welcomed with a sense of anticipation of him seeing me again. Instead, Luke was rather indifferent, tamed, and subdued. His tone was so disconnected from mine that I was forced to calm my emotions toward him. It felt so very awkward to me.
On the occasion of the event with everyone gathered, Frank was among the crowd and not at all recognizable by me. As kids, we saw each other only occasionally when my father took us to visit them several miles away. Nevertheless, Frank walked straight up to me, and in spite of the years, my full beard, and eyeglasses, he said, “Hi Michael!” I was 55 years of age, and could not have been more than 10 or 12 when we last saw each other.
Although a little disappointed, I was really okay.
And I would never tell Luke how he made me feel.
Frank was the kind of guy that made up for guys like Luke.
But “Not all cousins are created equal”, is what I wanted to say.
02182016PS
*True story; Names have been changed
Categories:
telephoned, cousin, emotions, encouraging, family,
Form:
Narrative
Tell Them What You See
Proverbs 25:11 KJV
There once lived a son who at the age of 30, telephoned his 58 year old father.
The son was distraught, dismayed, and depressed. He was unhappy, unable, and unsure.
He said to his father, “Dad, this world is an awful place and so messed up”. He was figuratively seeing dark clouds through dark glasses, and was surely disenchanted and disillusioned.
As he was describing to his father how he felt, and what he saw from where he sat, his father said to him, in a manner to offer a little hope, “That’s not what I’m seeing”.
In figurative terms, what was it that the father saw that the son could not see? The father continued to give him comfort and advice. After they were off the phone, these words came to the father:
“I see rain falling in season, filling all available reservoirs.
I see snow capped mountains, retaining snow in Winter, to be released in Spring, sending water to all”.
The father knew that he could not always rescue his son from bad decisions made, nor even shield him from life’s stinging bees. But he could always be there providing, a “fitly spoken word”, just to tell him “what he sees”.
The father was then refreshed with the understanding, that when a father has done all that he can do to help his sons and his daughters, and there is little else or anything left that he can do, he can always “tell them what he sees”.
022608
Categories:
telephoned, father, father daughter, father
Form:
Narrative
I bought a piece of land, for my family and me,
to build a perfect home on a plot beside the sea.
I employed a local Surveyor to help draw up the plans,
to build my family dream house on the beach at ‘Lincoln Sands’
He came and took some measurements and samples from the plot,
and I asked if he could include the moorings for a yacht.
The Surveyor did recommend a custom built lighthouse.
He suggested that I go home and discuss this with my spouse.
Accepting his advice we telephoned that day,
and asked a local architect to start building right away.
We installed a lighthouse lamp, a million candles bright,
to warn the ships and sailors on a dark or foggy night.
But my wife and I would argue, due to lack of sleep,
"I can take light nights no more" my wife to me would weep.
Several years have passed and I'm living all alone,
She left me for a sailor, shipwrecked near our home!
One day, whilst drowning my sorrows in my local public house,
I met the smooth talking Surveyor and I called him such a louse.
“I was surprised when you advised a lighthouse by the sea,
But I didn't expect the profound effect it would have on my wife and me”.
“No”, said the Surveyor "I think you misunderstand-my concern was with subsidence and the risk of shifting sand and I advised a ‘lighter house’ upon your plot of land!”
24th July 2017
Categories:
telephoned, break up, humorous, sea,
Form:
Narrative
My Kung Fu Chop Suey Present
On my thirty-fourth birthday off to China's best; traveled I went
So very uneventful and unaware I blithely lost all my well-earned money and spent,
As I entered into a Chinese restaurant and telephoned Connie Chang's
Alas, I'd decided to relinquish my yearnings and fill my hunger pangs.
On an undecided moment, I ordered chop suey and plate of spring rolls,
Also, a bottle of plonk to keep out the shivering unwanted cold
I ate so fast and drunk like a half drowned starved human sprinkler,
Putting my calloused hands in my pockets, found my frozen fingers.
Then found out I didn't have enough money to pay the restaurant bill
Then decided to leave and dash; when all was quiet and very still,
Once I was outside, to my eyes, I was shocked with angst and surprise,
All the waiters were waiting there with ugliness in their piercing eyes!
All at once they did many Kung Fu Chops unto my veiled eyes and stamped on my head
Their contempt in their eyes was to leave me so bruised and brutally dead,
They violently attacked me like a raging tiger in heat, then all at once I was still and all alone,
My blood had been spread apart and muscles were strung out and splintered right to my very bone.
They surely unraveled me, quite inadequately because back then I was very sure
This adventure of mine was an espionage of a birthday present for me to remember much of violence and gore,
I callously lay in a hospital bed for six or seven long endless months or weeks
I'm telling you all this had happened for a simple plate of chop suey and fresh steaks and leaks,
You do a great many of silly things when you are young and adventurous--haha! And that was all in a blurr.
Categories:
telephoned, adventure, birthday, travel,
Form:
Ode
This poem was written for my friend Sonya Mako Wong
Kung Fu Chop Suey
On my twenty-fifth birthday off to China's best travelled I went
So very unfruitful and unaware I enormously lost all my money thus spent,
Then I entered a Chinese restaurant and telephoned Tonya Chang's,
Alas, I'd aimed to relinquish my yearnings of humble hunger pangs.
In a strategic moment, I ordered chop suey and a plate full of spring rolls,
Also, a full bottle of plonk to keep out the shivering unwanted cold
I ate so fast and drank like a half drowned starved tinkler,
Putting my hands in my pockets, found nothing but frozen fingers.
Found out I did not have enough money to pay for the food bill
Right there and then decided to leave when it was quiet and so still,
But then once outside, all to my eyes was shocked with utter surprise,
Were all the waiters standing there with venom in their piercing eyes!
They all did many kungFu chops unto my veiled eyes, then stamped on my head
their obvious contempt was to leave me so bruised and so very dead,
They attacked me like a lunging tiger in heat, then I was so still and prone,
For my blood had rippled and muscles were strung out and splintered right to the bone.
They surely unravelled me, inadequately back then that was so very sure,
A quite eventful birthday present to remember full of much violence and gore
I lay in a hospital for an extended six or seven long months or weeks,
All this had happened for a simple plate of chop suey and fresh leaks.
You do plenty of silly things when your young-ha ha! And that was all a blur!!
Categories:
telephoned, city, dedication, friend, friendship,
Form:
Rhyme
There's A Lion In My Garden.
There's a lion in my garden I think it's escaped from the zoo.
There's a lion in my garden, Oh my goodness what shall I do?
The lion in my garden is laying under my old oak tree.
As I look out through my window, he yawns then looks
right back at me.
Help there's a lion in my garden and I've telephoned the police.
Just lock your doors and stay inside, that lion's been released.
The zoo keeper is aware of where his lion rests.
He's on his way to save the day to protect his lion from any pests.
Why that lion in your garden is really soft and tame.
His keeper says he'll come when he calls his lions name.
"SIMBA" shouts the keeper, "COME."
And Simba stands and goes to his keepers side.
"Iv'e got to take you back my friend you just can't leave your pride."
And as they turn the keeper says, "Madam I beg your pardon.
I'm sorry Simba gave you such a scare when you found him in your
garden."
Categories:
telephoned, animal, children, garden,
Form:
Rhyme
CELEBRATED HEADACHE.
This Ota farmer recognized as
Africans kobo
Copper coin with a fluctuating photo,
You load tomorrow’s volt into this
Over sized portfolio,
Debit, wearing materials stitched from
Tattered pillows
Only a goat perambulates and forgets
His ancestral home.
I size this situation on a scale to measure
His kilo,
Plural of the ring road is all you
Telephoned
Till my fathers became old.
After ruling far away from Heath-row,
You beg for additional white robe
To continue your cataract legacy infected
With disfigured quotes.
II
I learnt from you, that power is fragile
Like flower,
Today you sit on the highest tower
Few minutes later, dry wind blew your
Sanctuary like this meaningless brown powder.
When I hit you on the road,
As Yoruba always told
The Culture with a symbolic throne.
I must fall to prostrate, because
Elder’s own the stronger bone.
Remember your convoy of hope,
You spoke to my people in a gentle
Tone,
See the gazed land of unlimited scope
Although we die befriending cold
My journey is satisfied with this
Ordinary biscuit bone.
Now you cant walk the streets
Without been stoned.
The logo for any hero,
Is to eradicate zero’s and communicate
Growth.
III
I know you will live long
And remain strong, so you have a
Taste of this rotten corn shared on this
Decayed road,
You served on a plater of fading gold.
Even as your interesting biography
Is purposely clothed with apologies
Your lungs will rust like metal in this
Liquid cup.
Listen to the bold voice from the
Nigerian soil,
Dedicated to the logo my unknown
Hero.
HABIB AKEWUSOLA.
Categories:
telephoned, art,
Form:
Ballade
Are you ready?
Picture eighty-seven children, practicing for a Christmas show
in a sales barn that does not have heat or a sound system.
A skunk died somewhere in here a few hours ago.
Many are screaming.
Some are crying.
Many do not know me.
I am new in town, and obviously crazy.
It is freezing cold.
I had unwisely told all the mommies
to do their Christmas shopping
and leave all eighty-seven children with me
without any other adult chaperones.
I could be a killer. I guess no one understood that
because they did.
We were all sobbing when they returned to pick up their
children. I did not show it on the outside. I was too "nice".
I was sobbing on the inside, trying to figure out how to save
face when it failed, flopped, and was the worst show they had ever
seen.
It came to me a few hours later after I had my heart attack and died twice. I called six mommies and gave them parts. One was the narrator, because she knew the children's names. Which was
a much better start than I had. Two others would get them on and off the stage.
Did I mention I telephoned every number in the church directory to see if anyone could figure out how to rig up a star that lit up on the back of a pick up that we could all follow from the church to the manger (aka sales barn) the night of the program? The man who could do it was named Ziegwier. The last name in the book, so I called them all.
It was the best Sunday School Christmas play in the history of the world because I was the last car to get there, due to me orchestrating so much stuff at the church, and the six women had it all going beautifully and well by the time I parked clear in the back and ran in there. I sat back and relaxed, knowing God was in the house.
Categories:
telephoned, christmas, endurance, faith, funny,
Form:
Free verse
What’s going on at the Co op
Its been cordoned off, with some tape
The police have a ten strong contingent
Was it robbery, murder or rape ?
We telephoned Lynn cos she works there
But it turned out she’d had the day off
She wasn’t too well, by her voice you could tell
And every so often she’d cough
The policemen were not very helpful
As they stood and they guarded the door
But looking between, their two legs, gabardine
I could swear there was blood on the floor
The rumours were rife “ someone stabbed with a knife”
A robbery, someone got shot
A terrorist gang, going out with a bang
Was there truth in these tales, there was not
For fact is far stranger than fiction
There’s no murderer, on the rampage
Just a poor little beast enjoying a feast
A small creature, escaped from its cage
It was just after two when the men
From the Zoo, arrived in a van with a gun
Said “ we’ve been ‘ere before, hold open the door
We’ll soon put an end to his fun”
Going down with a thump and a dart in his rump
Spread-eagled he lay on the deck
No one thought that this ape would ever escape
Or would be such a pain in the neck
Now he’s back in the great ape enclosure
He’s a hero of cunning and guile
Regaled by the others, both sisters and brothers
On his face, fixed, a permanent smile
© John W Fenn 07-09-2009
Categories:
telephoned, animals, funny
Form:
Light Verse
I know that person, my aunt said after she read my poem.
I am related, she’s a cousin, she’s exactly like that!
She is horrible, her ways are overbearing. She is arrogant.
She is rude, despicable!
I cannot believe how you captured her essence!
I telephoned my mother the second she left my house.
Remember how I was afraid to show Aunt Winnie that poem?
I was shaking with anxiety for no reason.
She did not recognize herself in the least.
Categories:
telephoned, humor, humorous, irony, satire,
Form:
Prose Poetry
His left eye was plotting
Taking over the other eye would be easy
But what about the nose and mouth?
Would they go without a fight?
His insurrection was a success
He telephoned the other overbearing eyes
Come on down! He said.
We are ready now to take over the world.
Categories:
telephoned, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Many tried to console the woman before they got to me.
I was teaching a class, so this meant five of them.
None of them spoke her language, and neither did I.
She was sobbing when I took her hand.
Her eyes met mine and I gave her my “I love you” look.
She believed it, and followed me to my office.
I shut the others out.
Telephoned my friend, who spoke her language.
He said “Put her on the phone.”
He spoke to her for a long time.
She was gulp sobbing now.
I was still holding her hand.
“Keep her there,” He told me. “I am coming over.”
He worked at an abused woman’s shelter.
He whisked her out of there.
Her relatives demanded to know where she was.
None of us told them. We are school teachers. We can keep a confidence.
Six months later at Parent Teacher Conference a young woman came in smiling.
She walked up to me and gave me a letter.
She was taking classes and she had learned to write English.
You saved my life, she told me. She had the sobbing woman’s eyes.
She is my biggest achievement.
Categories:
telephoned, abuse, women,
Form:
Narrative
The convict was running from the police.
He chose the wrong woman to rob.
She had grown up with eight brothers.
When he yelled for her to “get out” of her own car
She began to whale on him. She hurt him badly.
He had been hurt less in prison during a jump.
She was interviewed on the news after she hogtied him
And telephoned the police, who were there in minutes.
He is dangerous, they told her. You are lucky.
The convict felt lucky when they showed up.
He was afraid she was going to continue to hurt him.
He was yelling for the cops to come and get him.
She said, “I’ve decked bigger men than him."
Her brothers saw her on TV and cheered.
Knowing they had done what they could
To keep their baby sister safe.
Feeling the pride of brothers.
The convict did not understand what had happened.
He had never had seven brothers.
Categories:
telephoned, brother,
Form:
Prose Poetry