I AM ASHAMED
Of President of Mine
In front of all the world
And OTHER COUNTRIES
I am UNITED STATES
BOTH STRONG AND MILITARY POWER
AND THE YOUNG OF ALL
in world where we do we value CULTURE
THE TONE OF VOICE
THE STYLE OF SPEECH
the PERTINENCE
DISOCURSE the DIALOGUE
I WANT TO SAY
HE ISN”T REPRESENTATIVE to me
I am dialing the round telephone
BACK THEN
I AM ALTERING
the program
of behaviors
and rules
THE TRAP FOR FOOLS
THE CITIIZENS ARE TRUSTING AND NAIVE
whose DUTY is to COMBAT THIS
the fraud
ME
AS THE FEDERAL THE LAW
ENFORCEMENT
of them each on their own
THE DILEMMA
WHAT IS THIS I OWN
RULES OF THE GUN THE HANDLING
might be judged
I OWN GUN for the security of mine
I own HUNTING THE THE WEAPON
what for I own
the ASSUALT THE RIFLE
FOR THE THE CASE IF WAR?
And if the weapon handing is for SPORTS
and HOBBY
WHAT FOR
WHAT FOR
WHAT FOR
posses you STOCK THE PILE
of weapons this
IN CASE I SOMETHING MISSED
THE PURPOSE
A reply to a poem by Octavio Paz
Poem: Where Without Whom
There is not
a single soul among the trees
And I
Don't know where I have gone
Reply:
Indeed, my friend,
You have spoken truthfully.
If any soul were among the trees,
that soul would be informed
that he/she is lost.
And if lost,
as you attest,
You may be easily found,
not among the trees,
But by dialing 911 and
calling upon the Lord.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the following poem was written as part of an online poetry class; responding to the image above
We tuned the dish to static,
listening for God’s cough~
a blip, a hiccup in the cosmic hum.
The night shift drank coffee
thick as engine grease,
the kind that left your tongue
tattooed with bitterness.
We waited…
and still, the stars
bled silence.
You said, Maybe we're dialing
the wrong frequency.
I said, Maybe God’s just shy.
Then the power died.
The dish froze mid-sweep,
like a man catching
his own ghost in the mirror.
We stood there, necks craned,
waiting…hoping…
for the dark to whisper
its secrets to us.
Azure-blue, the sky
wipe your tears dry
Fresh, the face of day
put your fears away
Sparkling morning dew
you can sparkle too
Nature's call renewed
~ now she's dialing you
I hate my low moments.
Those moments when I try not to but my eyes find your name and my finger dial your number
These days it never goes through anymore
All I hear is a beep then a silence I will never fill with words
I dont want you to pick up.
I dont want your voice to warm up my heart again.
It grows so cold in the silence thereafter
Against my better judgement I keep dialing.
Hoping you'll pick up yet praying that you wont.
I really hope you dont use the kind of phone that stores calls that didnt get through
I dont know how I'll explain what business my fingers have dialing your number
What business my heart has wanting to hear your voice.
I have to admit, mindless hope is one of my bad habits
And you...are just another
- All My Bad Habits
Jackie who was permanently stuck in the twos after
a childhood vaccine that was due..
Larry's addiction and prior crimes that led to his
affliction and wheel chair confine.
Bill who struggled with his c.p., only hoping that
others could see beyond his disability..
Joe whose institutional blows caused stuttering,
frustration and angry explodes..
Carol whose Asperger's left her obsessed compulsively
dialing strangers on her ex boyfriend quest..
George who got an inner thrill by chasing trash trucks
until they turned on the hill..
Phil who in public would stop and beg to touch the
calf of a woman's leg..
Barbara with her theatrical flare who craved full attention
every where..
Howard who lost his serenity when any change occured
in his vicinity..
James and his life long obsession with Marlboro lights
and fake wrestling..
Our society labels them developmentally delayed but
many were the best friends I've ever made..
*PV - Proverbial Verbiage
The Old Rotary
Dialing out…zzzzip…zzzzzzzip…zzzzzzzip
and
zip…zzip…zzzip…zzzzip
and brring…
long distance was not a thing
for children. they could only
ring those within their corridor
ching…ching
money didn’t grow on trees
the grown up made sure
we were wise
or they’d wise up
our behinds
but we didn’t even try
a bit smarter back then
smarting at smaller things
like
eating Mr. McGregor’s produce
throwing
stones at cars
but
we kept our hands
off the old man’s
cookie jar (PV)
rang Grandma
once a year (PV)
It was more fun to dial out
but by then a burglar
tied you up (PV)
We won't be chatting
And I'll miss
Your silky voice
Like angel's kiss
I will not laugh
Or smile with glee
While absent you
Is missing me
Your clicking heels
With flowing stride
To be your friend
I fill with pride
You fill a space
I never knew
An emptiness
The shape of you
Although we talk
Of dialing down
My sinking heart
I think may drown
If ever you
Could pass me by
And never glance
To catch my eye
So let's not ponder
On such woes
But dwell on love
Each friendship knows
A hug, a latte
All I need
So thank you friend
I do concede
A fondness
And a mystery
I'll take them both
You'll do for me
To end, I'll say
This thing, profound;
With you, I fly
Yet, solid ground.
CV
03.05.24
I meet her in spring
nothing special about it
we liked one another
and became intimate friends
season to season
holiday to holiday
making time to be with
one another
she's real special to me
we get along
we work and generate
a positive flow
we have honest fun
proud to be
We as one
saw her one day at the mall
leaning on ah Msta
they cuddling up
having fun
my stomach soured
I kept my distance
he left her side
he needed a bathroom break
she picked up her phone
started dialing
my text went off
normally I'd be smiling
messege said
"don't reply
I was thinking of you
Baby you know why
be over this evening
make some time for me
I really love
signed sincerely"
I sat down
then he came out
they snuggled up
and walked about
I'm ah foolg I
could find ah woman
this pleasing to my eye
Chill man
let it be
to much drama
man this aint me
There are no more telephone booths,
not the old type - the glass coffins.
The Atalanta hub is rocking,
planes and people buzzing in and out
of an anthill nexus
of distracted minds.
Calling London,
a city
that has red telephone boxes,
concrete-set booths
that all ring at once.
Wrong numbers are seeking answers.
There is a cacophony
in the pressed ears of puzzlement.
The airport begins to spin around,
faster and faster,
a shaky orbit encircling speaking lips.
Dialing fingers sweat, are too thick
for changing conversations.
Talking heads are searching
for one direct call,
one line in an ethereal ball of string.
Red boxes are bellowing now,
every voice is angry,
nearby glass booths
are trembling with a frustrated rage.
All these images are an allegory
for the deaf and dumb days of yore,
a distant time locked in its own
transparent sarcophagus -
drowned-out mouths,
even now
fitfully trying to connect.
Do you feel alone
That a lie from your enemy
He want you to live by your feeling alone
Especially when you are home on you own
You get on the phone
To call a friend
Who have no help for you
You feel alone
Because you call the wrong person
Making you feel like a rolling stone.
All alone you feel
You kneel down in prayer
But the words don’t come out
Alone you still feel
Even in prayer you kneel
All alone you feel.
Can I get through this stress
With the enemy bringing up my mess
Is this just a test
Where can I get some rest
Alone I still feel
Even when I kneel.
Yes, yes it’s not a guess
God is waiting to hear your request
You are not alone
Even when you feel you are on your own
When you dial the right number
With no slumber or cumber
With all the rumble going
You are not alone
When you get the right number
dialing on your phone
you are not alone.
Looked for old friends across the net,
most didn't leave much of a trail.
Sometimes when looking they will come,
but you might have to make their bail.
Sometimes just thinking of someone,
can have them dialing your phone.
Or you can call, "dial a friend",
those times when you're feeling alone.
The more we become connected,
to all the people we don't see.
The way things seem to be going,
we might as well yell from a tree!
date: 02/06/23
contest: Acquaintance and Neighbor
sponsor: Sotto Poet
Sitting silently
Motionless
Emotionless
Stagnant thumps from my heart
Barely a beat
Slumping sideways
Dialing my way
Nothing can save me
Lonely
So lonely
So tired
Mirrored by scars
Curvaceous figure
Blade in hand
Daggers deep deploying pain
Depleting my heart of what was
Severing Love
My dear, you can call and talk at me whenever you feel the need
Sometimes your restraint is palpable
Finger pointed in dialing mode then reluctantly forming a fist
Fear of my telephone taking on a blase “it’s her again” attitude perhaps
I understand and thank you for that self-control
You desire relief much like an avalanche of heavy stones allowing its stifled interior breath
Not seeking a resolving hand but only my ear to provide ephemeral comfort
My wish for you that words of life changing wisdom play that one note you haven’t heard before
The beginnings of a song you slowly compose with a sense of newness and possibility
Life experiences I attempt to share go unheard and you remain on the same square
I’m just a familiar hello on the faraway other end frustrating you when I speak
That’s okay because I know you would do the same for me
By Suzanne Boyko
June 30, 2021
Dialing her unfaithful spouse’ numbers shows she ain’t one of the quitters,
But over the phone heard, “Sorry, the numbers you just dialed were letters”.
Sept 27,2021
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