Long Telephone Poems
Long Telephone Poems. Below are the most popular long Telephone by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Telephone poems by poem length and keyword.
There was a time in yesteryear
When I had lived alone,
I had come across a certain fear
Of things that dwell below
My mind kept leaping back inside
The dark holes of the unknown
Till one night I felt cruel eyes
Burning into my own
I hadn’t welcomed it I swear!
—please do not get me wrong
I couldn’t remain, I wouldn’t dare
Stay there for too long
I fled towards my bathroom,
As if that would scare it away!
I’d lose it, I assumed
As long as I didn’t stay
For a full hour I sat there
On the toilet seat
Sitting in the darkness where
I stared at my cold feet
Finally, standing, I opened up the door
I heard the screech of the hinge,
That creak and nothing more…
But still, it made me cringe
Each night I felt the eyes upon me
Fixedly, more and more
But one dark, cold night I suddenly saw
A figure at my bedroom door
My eyes couldn’t leave the sight
Of the insidious, insisting guest
My heart thumped drastically in fright
As you probably would have guessed
It stood there upon the blemished floor
Watching me in my bed
Its body leaned against my door
Tilting and jerking its head
I screamed and clutched onto my covers
Stabbing to stay my heart
Trying to reach the telephone for others
But it was just too far!
I looked out of my window
Watching the rain patter against the sill
I was trying to distract my terrified woe
That haunted me against my will
I must have been losing my mind
But one night I felt braver and sane,
Trying to be courteous and kind,
Though scared I asked, “What is your name?”
The atmosphere grew darker within the room
I thought that I would die of fright
“My name is Tsustaroth,” it said
“And I am kissing you goodnight”
In horror I saw it moving towards me
My blankets flew away
Its fiendish look of reptile beast
Was zooming towards my face!
I moved to the corner of the room
And it turned its head towards me
I felt the burning of terror and doom
Revel inside of me
Then I saw it disappear
Into the dusty floors
But thrashing footsteps I could still hear
Closer and closer…thumping on the floorboards
As soon as it had left the scene
I felt the earth beneath my skin
I felt so alive, so eerily keen
I felt the darkness lurking within
“And every night, yes every while,
I’ll visit you at your door,”
As he spoke I felt myself hysterically smile!
“ And we won’t be lonely anymore…”
I am sitting at my desk attempting at some prose
But nothing seems to come to me nothing to compose
My minds a canvas blank not two words can I rhyme
So I try counting backwards just to pass the time
Then without a conscious reason except for boredom's reach
I open my desk drawer to a mixture of mystique
A magnetic magic bracelet used to cure my rheumatism
Surrounded now with pins and staples an error in optimism
A yellow wooden pencil its rubber now a stub
An unused lifetime membership to some forgotten club
A mechanical lead pencil with no refills in sight
A bottle of used white-out the top cemented tight
Post-it notes with messages which I can't understand
Telephone numbers without a name not written in my hand
Ballpoint pens with dried-up ink no longer do they write
A solar-powered calculator gone flat for lack of light
Rubber-bands that no longer stretch and little bits of string
Two black dice and a deck of cards missing a red king
Sun glasses a mini racing car and a worn-out golf shoe cleat
A funny little package which reads "Silica Do Not Eat
Orange sore-throat soothers now melted to a bar
Finger-nail clippers picture hooks and a pick for a guitar
A polishing cloth and a lucky charm that never seemed to pay
Needle and cotten a used band-aid and a bottle of nasal spray
Screw drivers erasers fluro-pens that have gone dry
Sticky tape a set of keys and a flashy bright bow-tie
This jumble of confusion has failed to solve my plight
I'll just keep counting backwards till I find something to write
Calling Captain Hindsight, where the heck are you?
The table booked for one-fifteen and now it’s ten-past-two,
The waiting staff are anxious, they want me to move on,
Their patience was exhausted as I sat buttering a scone.
I dawdled on arrival though the menu is quite clear,
I fiddled with my glasses whenever waitresses came near,
I nibbled on some poppadoms and slowly sipped my soup
But they’re keen to move this table now, to accommodate a group.
So come in Captain Hindsight, I need you on the line,
Just Tweet a cute emoji if you’re still a friend of mine,
You must be getting hungry, clear your diary, find some foods,
The hosts of countless phone-ins are simply spouting platitudes.
Is it really sensible to let our steelworks close,
Should Boohoo use slave labour to stitch our discount clothes?
Was breaking-up the railways a really mad idea?
Dare we book a holiday for May or June next year?
Reveal yourself on Tik-Tok or maybe Instagram,
This is no time to reject toys or throw them from your pram.
Laying-low is not required they need you on the news
There are many here among us who would gladly steal your shoes.
Just who imagined gantries over motorways were sane
When stranded vehicles occasionally block the left-hand lane?
Should crops be decimated by barbarians hare-coursing
As some tally-up donations from the firms they like endorsing?
The nurses and the warehousemen all need your sound advice
Without this there’s an endless risk they’ll run around like mice.
Public trust in newspapers will ebb away and lapse,
With schisms on the increase we need you to say “Perhaps.”
So please stay in our consciousness - like Robin Hood or Santa
Without your wise opinions, LBC* will lose its banter.
When the bar stools are in use again we shan’t know what to say,
So come back Captain Hindsight, please don’t go away!
* LBC is an English language radio station highly reliant upon telephone calls from its listeners. This poem was first published by Poets Unite Worldwide on 25th September 2021.
Marquee gave me a choice. "What would I rather be, a better writer, or to be able to use my computer?" They notified me.
Their telephone number is 1-800-562-1502 and they are open Monday through Saturday. They are closed on Sundays. if you are interested in contacting them for further information please feel free to call them?
They informed me downloading's programs on your computers. Would open the door for malware to enter in, and take over control of your computers. Additionally, you would have the increased risk of identify theft.
"Did I want somebody to be able to steal my identity. And have complete access to my personal and financial information?" They informed me.
I told them I did not want that to happen to me. They now run anti virus checks on my desk top computer automatically. Being able to commutate online, and through social media. Is vitally important to all online and print based writers and/or poets. Although I basically classify my self as a fictional writer. I have written factual on line information.
The above factual information is based purely on my personal online experiences. I do not want other people to make the same mistakes as I did. I was completely ignorant. But ignorance of the law is no excuse. That did not stop my computer from being directly impacted by malware. Even though I was told it was through no fault of my own.
If you or anyone you may know is downloading programs on their computers. Do them and yourself a favor. Stop it before it is too late. I have crashed two desk top computers and one lap top one. Computers are expensive to repair and or replace.
As a born again Christian, I forgive them for what they did to me. If I want to be forgiven, I must also be willing to forgive. And be willing to pray they change their tactics.
Love as always,
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/October Country
June 12, 2020/ June 13,2020
when onset
of periodontal disease didst rear
innocuously unbeknownst then,
that...nada one tooth experts could spare
though grievously sad to bid teeth adieu
now, tis gratitude these words
pour favor at a tear
and second to none false teeth
at age LIX doth veer
rill lee inspire this
very satisfied patient
February of 2018th year.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
back in the day
aye gladly placed trust
asper resigned then questionable oral fate
before hairs turned gray
joining high achiever pact (and pack)
to endure academic gauntlet
divesting global incentive
with alacrity, humility, tenacity
and thus this poetic disquisition
to pay homage to aspiring successful
and alumni sporting ring of brass
aye honor within elite chattering class
one significant summa cum laude graduate
sum decades ago,
perhaps reclining, reflecting, and reimagining
latex gloved gloved hands (now retired)
'pon some tropical island paradise,
or freshly mown grass
incognito with sun glasses
revels Doctor John Brent
perchance bred (bingo) begot astute lass
or lad exemplary instructing
thru his own blood, sweat and tears
who (for x number of years)
treated patients in an ever growing mass
sieve lee tending a family dental practice
within Harleysville, Pennsylvania
asserted superb reference (on my behalf)
via telephone to Doctor Montgomery
(aye presume) also enjoying
his twilight phase (if alive - I hope).
Along The Magnificent Mile in Chicago, there
is one of the most beautiful Great Lakes. Some
90 miles away from Lake Michigan there is a small
city in Indiana called Winona Lake. I've not touched
the waters of either, but they hold treasured memories.
In 1971-72, I found myself commuting between
the two lakes. It was not a commute to work
but one to love. The vehicle drives to see her were
not very often or predictable because I did not own
an automobile.
We were then engaged, and I was a senior in college.
We both worked in a ministry with ex-drug addicts for
the same organization. She lived and worked with women
some 90 miles away from my home in Chicago where I
worked with the men. We both were connected to a LAKE.
These were the laid-back days of pre-internet and pre-Fed Ex.;
the days of 'snail mail' and expensive landline telephone.
We mostly communicated between the two lakes by way
of letters affixed with inexpensive postage stamps.
031523PSCtest, Writing Challenge-'L' Words. Constance La France
I,
Wanna strike a match in your heart if you let me, try,
I, promise I will not stop.
I’ve, got, to give you all that I have had,
In the past, I only ever gave half.
Your heart, my star, has landed, right here.
You near, lift me up, above, my love, my drug,
You’re my everlasting,
Listening, laughing, with you.
Never blue, only if you ask me to,
Will I quit, but never be tragic, ‘cause I know you’re fantastic.
Fantasy, you’re mine, never lying, all true,
Everything comes from you,
Into us, build our love, become my continuum.
Continue to feel ‘em, no fool, used tool, creating illusion’s,
Never becoming immune, to heart ache, I break,
Every time I say truth.
Never had the voice to, a-maze, lost in my confusion,
Wandering allusion’s, memory of tragedy,
Reality is comedy.
I laugh, take it back, leave me to my spiral,
Leave me and go viral.
Find fame, it’s lame, wannabee a nobody,
Or someone, somebody, anybody, something,
Dreams ring, for me, telephone is calling.
Fame and fortune drawing, us to, hope for,
A better tomorrow, reaching out of sorrow.
Searching, just a king, waiting on a future,
Know I’d never leave ya.
Fist raised, heap praise, fighting for our freedom.
Writing up a new kingdom,
Stole a thought and only went and built us both a fiefdom.
Come and feast your eyes on, a thing that taste like bacon.
Glitterballs, come walk the halls, perform a free dance with me,
Make me your nobility, hopeless-ly, endless-ly.
I will wait in hand, I stand, give me a direction,
Show me your perfection.
Crystalized, fireflies,
Your eyes energize me; energizer bunny.
Love’s cruel, use me, using your own rules,
Anything is possible, yet all this is improbable?
If you would only wish it, into your existence,
I will move the world sideways,
Moving your in all ways...
Always.
(C)2023 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
No Birthday Acknowledgement...
From thee... eldest daughter,
who need not brood,
nor does padre whoosh
to stir loess hood family feud
(hence an attempt merely
to convey melancholic mood).
Profound contrast extant between
your high achieving
life a wonderful hit parade
on the go compared tummy mellow
existence, yes rather staid,
now devoid of any parental
responsibility since years back, ye bade
farewell to yours truly
(perhaps forever), atop a jade
did apex inverse to my nadir paid
with ignoble deeds soul limb lee,
dissimilar to thee,
a young vibrant woman, unafraid
to take life by the (figurative) horns,
owning free choice (linkedin, nsync,
prevalent...) with autonomy swayed
independent lass not succor tubby paid
tummy, nor does this "sir" ask (delayed
by one day) for thee to "FAKE" express
sing nonexistent affection,
this decision...opting to evade
papa, who must accept such choice,
asper his first born, fortunately UNLIKE me
she earned top notch grade
nonetheless, this dada before he gets laid
to rest (actually most likely cremated),
whose ashes tubby scattered across favorite sites,
yourself and Shana Punim played,
which wistful nostalgia plucks heartstrings
rubbing raw thy psyche, who cannot trade
past concupiscent transgressions (emotionally
turbulent waters I did wade),
and no intent to telephone and invade,
sans audiologically your ear space,
this paternal, essential, and critical need
my psyche weighed, lamented, and encumbered
grief, nonetheless proud,
thee "star student" made
herself whip smart
by dogged academic pursuit
in tandem with ardent biological
bone a fide exemplary filleted
(within chromosomal dom) mignon,
similar, when Semitic forebears
risked frolicking under shade
of night - countless elapsed generations aid
ding random genetic dice throw begetting
Eden Liat, whose irrepressible
atavistic feral guaranteeing immortality obeyed
viz, call of the wild indomitable
animalistic hankering impossible to evade,
these genealogical ancestors actions unknowingly,
unstintingly, and unwittingly
helped forge, craft, and affect every blade
of grass, and yoked, (a chicken and egg thing)
hereditary survival of fittest
present day unchoreographed masquerade.
A few things you should know about the things I love
like the magic of watching asteroids above
the fact that I was born on Easter Day
the joy of buying a summertime bouquet
off-hours where I quietly sit at a café
talks about our Thousand Islands get-away
matinees at home or at the cinema
chunky fruit in a pitcher full of sangria
the caress of sunshine on my face
success when uncluttering my place
curls of waves unfurling on the sand
the perfect treasure found second hand
long walks along the riverbank
discussions had both deep and frank
bullseye shots that hit the mark
sugar kisses in the dark
a glass of wine to enhance dinner
games where there need not be a winner
coming first and acing all my tests
faeries who live deep in wild oak forests
biting into a big luscious peach
seaglass gathered on the beach
poppies and peonies growing in a garden
maple walnut ice cream begs your pardon
new york cheesecake that's real yummy
brownies that wind up in my tummy
incandescent hummingbirds in flight
nighttime bubblebaths by candlelight
the mystery of butterflies and dragonflies
perfume of lilacs assailing passerbys
glowing moon hanging low up in the sky
a delicious plateful that's exotic thai
a virtuoso playing the piano
the starry night painted by van gogh
hot french pressed coffee shared at dawn
the surge of nostalgia when I hear Elton John
carefree runs across wild meadows
telephone wires lined up with crows
aromas of basting turkey in the afternoon
hotdogs over campfire in the month of june
sunrise burning mist across the lake
wishes blowing candles off a birthday cake
strokes of vibrant greens in watercolour
luscious textiles that utterly feel like fur
christmas tree decorations hung
mango juice upon my tongue
a classy outfit that fits me like a glove
these are just a few of the very many things I love.
AP: 2nd place 2025
Drinking my way to my grave
Pretty scarlet eyes singing me away
My barrel of wants, my needs
So kindly my morning disappears
My trashcan of wonders and fears
I thought I’d be the seventh son
I settled for being the youngest of nine
I thought I’d treat you right
I found myself within a strangers eyes
I sob and I sing songs
But I won’t pick up the telephone
I lay awake all night, I left my days
I sat up all day I left my nights
I had no where else to go
No where else to be
I was sleepless in June
I’ll be sleepless in July
I’ve been here all day
I’ll be here all night
This evening I’ll have more to say
If tomorrow doesn’t see me first
Every one’s a mystery
Until you get to know them
I’m not the man you wished I were
I’m growing ale
I just want to sail
Once the sun gets in your skin
You’re never coming back to her
I never ask for any of this
I leave it to the wind
To shelter my soul
But the wind only holds
A widows son
I never wanted war
I walk yellow lines gracefully
Will there ever be a place for me
Left my patience on a Saturday sun
I find peace within your voice
No where left for my words to run
I’ve been here all day
I’ll be here all night
This evening I’ll have more to say
If tomorrow doesn’t see me first