Have I a classic phone on my desk
The Bible book hardcovered in black
Which uses by me and the acquaintances
Whomsoever perched in the heaven
Whenever life leaves me alone
Whenever I reckon them again
I'll dial up an age-fashioned call
To converse instantly with them all
Of the moments we encounter
Or the scenes we've had together
Informed by image
Shocking, stoking, misleading
Algorithm headlines
Sense isn't as common as it once once was
is it because
the more we use our smart phone
the dumber we become
and dance to the same algorithm
(and blues)
each and every one
whereas before we used the brain
now others do our thinking faster than blinking
and if things go awry we have them to blame
whereas before we did all the talking
now we're content
to let our fingers do the walking
before crossing the road
I didn't need to be told,
'Look both ways'
when not so very old
as a matter of fact,
is there an app for that?
Thank you for calling Your Destruction.
If you’re calling to bring forth your personal hell, press 1.
If you’re calling for emotional devastation, press 2.
If you’re calling to enact physical harm, press 3.
…Thank you. Your Destruction is now offering a summer sale.
If you are interested, please fill out the survey on Your Destruction website.
…Please hold…please hold…please hold…please hold on for as long as you can…
Please hold; the bringer of your doom will be with you in a moment…
Hello. It’s nice to hear from you again.
What can I do for you that will make you regret your life choices?
I see. Sorry to hear that. Would you like to include your friends and family?
I understand. Your Destruction will ensure that your life is utterly ruined once I’m done.
Have a nice day!
I was lost after a night out and
couldn't unlock the screen for directions
you walked to the pub you can't be far just
ease yourself over this railing and
slide down the wall so you can take a
short cut through the car park
cursing all the while but
I know the tube station's nearby
and it must still be open
pushing the On button over and over
swiping this way and that
screaming with rage at this useless device
####ing this and ####ing that
now this isn't the way to the station
and I hear her voice coming through:
- is that you, why did you call me?
are you in trouble?
still the screen is black
- yes I'm just a little lost
- you sound very scared, in fact
it doesn't sound like you at all
To meet converse
give me a ring
hmu
perchance communicate
'twould be a fine thing
if it were so
but no
wtf
lower case letters and emojis
are the way of the day
mostly with nothing much to say
smh
no wonder the globe is warming
with all the power used and abused
omg
but what did they find
to fill their tiny minds
lol
before they owned
their so-called smart phone
idk
There once was a phantom phone caller
Who rang numbers he hadn't oughta
Some fell for his charms
Some raised the alarm
Now the caller finds he's in deep water.
One day he rang someone that he knew
Thinking that they hadn’t got a clue
They knew who he was
Sent for the police squad
He got locked up as idiots do.
Worse thing about being in a cell
Was being without a phone, it was hell
He twiddled his thumbs
All day and night long
Till his finger digits started to swell.
He cried for he wanted his mother
And also his sister and brother
But they didn’t care
Just left him in there
It couldn’t have been any tougher.
His dad was the only one who cared
“You’ll be out very soon son” he sweared
He climbed the cell wall
But had a big fall
“You’re arrested” an officer declared.
She looked pretty at the Zebra crossing,
weaving slowly, her shampooed hair tossing,
cars stopped still, to allow her go across,
who wouldn’t stop to let a beauty pass!
She looked neither to her left nor her right,
body cutting out shape in pants bit tight,
eyes fixed on the messages on her phone,
tripping when side stepping a traffic cone.
She continued her walk on the pavement,
her gaze on phone, no other engagement,
people just getting out of her long strides,
moving out, leaning against walls on sides.
She will, let us pray, march on and reach home,
Walking in a dream with eyes on her phone,
Smart phone habits have made people road blind,
live in a cyber, not engage their mind.
a habit that has cost many their lives,
smart phones kill more now than do guns and knives,
when use road pay attention to surrounds,
watch each step well as your feet touch the ground.
not fashionable if on phone walking,
drivers, road users find it annoying,
drop habit, urge others to do the same,
can save lives, limbs, if this habit we tame!
And you never knew—
how many times I stood on the edge of your name,
typing and erasing,
drafting words that felt too fragile to send.
I wrote the messages,
but never set them free.
My thumb hovered over "call"
like a ghost remembering how to hold the living.
Not because I didn't miss you—
God, I did.
But silence sometimes feels safer
than a voice that trembles.
Some words decay
the moment they're spoken,
like truth bruised by too much air,
like “I miss you” whispered into a hurricane.
Some doors, once closed,
start to feel like graves.
And maybe I was afraid
of finding you on the other side,
happy.
Healed.
Without me.
So I let the distance settle,
like dust on unsaid things.
And the questions—
the aching, bleeding questions—
I let them stay unanswered.
You moved on,
and I stayed—
not in the past,
but in the pause between knowing and letting go.
So no,
I never texted you again.
But that doesn't mean
I never held the phone
like it was your hand.
Help! I dropped my phone down the loo
What can be done? what shall I do?
Stick my hand deep into the pan
I pull and tug the best I can
Call a plumber or call a friend?
Can't do that, phone's stuck in the bend
Out I go to buy a new phone
Call a plumber when I get home.
I sit and wonder in my backyard
About you at the graveyard
I'm always waiting for that phone call from you
But it just takes me back from all the hell you went through
I guess for the rest of my life I will be lonely
But in the end, you were my only
Sometimes I feel the pain I have is just too great
Sure I had a lot of hate
And I guess it's from not being able to see you again
Sometimes when it starts to rain
I think it's you from Heaven
Playing a game
Just to tell me each raindrop
That falls is telling me my heart is beginning to drop
I know you were robbed and cheated
And your life was never completed
I guess each day I always feel alone
I know you are up there watching me
So I sit here wondering if you will ever call
As I stare at your picture on the wall
We all watch the life you led
And always wonder what is ahead
Maybe the only call will be in my dreams
Oh, the joy of telemarketers,
Who call you up without a care,
With offers they believe are clever,
But really just provoke despair.
They call with grand insurance plans,
Covid kits and credit schemes,
As if I’m some prized target
For their automated dreams.
“End-of-life” expense protection —
Oh, what a cheery nightly theme!
I nod along sarcastically
Inside my caller-haunted dreams.
And then there’s Medicare, of course,
A topic I now know too well,
Yet still they bring fresh nonsense
With each new tale they sell.
They ring at noon, at dawn, at dusk,
And even in the dead of night,
It seems they’ve sworn a solemn vow
To haunt me till I lose the fight.
So here’s my ode to all of you
Who call with no remorse or thought:
If you don’t cease this madness soon,
I’ll scream until my brain is shot.
Your calls are cruel and unwanted,
And frankly, they just make me sick.
So do the world a service now —
And kindly stop being a prick.
Whatever happened to the telephone book
enquiring minds need to know
there hasn't been one here for years
so wherever did it go
and what about the telephone box
or the answer machine
I haven't seen either near it's clear
they're few and far between
they went the way of the dodo
long before their time
as not everyone owns a mobile phone
and no you may not use mine
we used to flip the pages
let our fingers do the walking
but now with not a lot to say
there's way too far much talking
I checked my e-mail
Deleted the spammer
Then fixed my “I phone”
With a store-bought hammer
The Dr. scheduled a video visit
I told him “I’d take a pass”
Cuz there’s no way I’m stickin’
My own finger up my a..
My “phone” and I
Seem to disagree
‘bout who’s in charge
“IT” or me
I asked SIRI what do you think
“she” replied: I don’t
I just tell you what everyone else thinks
You know you’re really in trouble
When ALEXA texts you saying
“WE NEED TO TALK”
Whatever happened to the telephone book
enquiring minds need to know
there hasn't been one here for years
so wherever did it go
and what about the telephone box
or the answer machine
I haven't seen either near it's clear
they're few and far between
they went the way of the dodo
long before their time
as not everyone owns a mobile phone
and no you may not use mine
we used to flip the pages
let our fingers do the walking
but now with not a lot to say
there's way too far much talking
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