What used to be simple’s
No longer the case,
With AI and tech leaving
No human trace.
A phone call reverts to
The state of “On hold,”
The music appalling,
And not ‘cause I’m old.
The customer rep keeps
Repeating each fact,
But sends you an email
He failed to enact.
So after an hour,
Which soon becomes two,
You hang up the phone
And you haven’t a clue
If he did what you asked
To provide what you need
And you have no idea
Just how you should proceed.
I miss the old methods
Of making a call,
When a pencil and paper
Recorded it all.
so far away
his voice is right her by me
whispering sweetly
Death
appeared with a phone call
from a neighbor~
a beautiful story ending
with painful blessings
gracing this news~~
(for Gary)
Never
the same
happening never
before or again~
continuity builds a
narrative as a
happening which
is gone already~~
Paradox
a gift to the seeker
inviting resonance
with an impossibility~~
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!
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
Ello, Gwammy,
Yea, saw the wain, Gwammy,
Big dwops fallin’ on the soil.
Dwopped fwom clouds.
Aunt Jan was angwy.
Said I get wet.
But I took her bwolly,
The one with the paint on it.
Big bwolly so I no get wet.
Went on the bench to see better.
The soil got wet.
Aunt Jan called me,
But I want to see the gwass gwo.
The wain will make the gwass gwo
And I can play there.
But it gwo a lot, only
Can’t play in gwass. Much wain.
From the bench I saw lovely colows.
Aunt Jan said it’s a wainbow.
Don’t know. But you know, Gwammy,
I saw mamma on the wainbow.
She smiled and sent me a kiss.
I want to see the wainbow again.
But no wain now.
When you come
Bwing me cake with a hole.
I lowe it. I lowe you too, gwammy.
Must go.
Bye, Gwammy.
/em>Over breakfast, pouring coffee, buttering toast,
the phone rings, I answer. It is her sister,
she's weeping --- father dead.
Looking across the table at her,
I recall last night, restless words,
words spoken as she slept.
This morning those dreams seem to have been
clouds taking shape before a storm,
a Greek chorus reciting elemental spells,
cast against the coming of the day./em>
a...full loss (of 'why')
be as
a...fun damn! (mental trap)
that's as
a...(full a soap hic-call) problem
being in
a...shower (the ringing of a phone)
disturbs you in
a...way too loud manner (that's a full-loss-of-ease)
over
a...filed loss-of-fees (concerning unpaid bills)
in the mail
stan sand
Marianne called me on a Sunday at eight a.m.
We live four hours away from each other
I had not seen her for over a year
“Want to meet me in Liberty in thirty minutes?”
“Heck yes!”
We were jumping around laughing a few minutes later
Picking up our conversation as if we had seen each other yesterday
Best friends for over twenty-seven years
We ate breakfast, shopped, laughed, had lunch,
it seemed like we still lived in the same town
as if I had never left
She looks a bit older, and I know I do too
But when we see each other we do not see age
We see mutual trust, respect
We share some stories that no one else would understand
We laugh about our past experiences, trips, stories
She was still doing everything for everyone.
I had trouble letting her go back home.
Phantom Phone Call
All Hallows Eve quickly approaches
With tales of crypts and ghostly coaches
When haunting spirits again roam
To sounds of chains and dirges of moans.
Amid this eerie spine-chilling time
Beloved mother prepares to die
Fragile link between Heaven and earth
Suddenly splits in her rebirth.
One final breath, one final sigh,
One final smile from her blue eyes
Now at midnight her spirit takes flight
Traveling light through darkest midnight.
The battle over – sweet warrior at rest
Home phone rings jarring mourning expressed
Familiar voice heard on the line – no trick -
“Child, this is your mother!” Click…
10-8-21
Contest: Something Spooky 8-16 lines Poem
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
The story is true story although timeframe has been altered. After mom died our home phone rang. It was past midnight. The voice on the other end of the line was mom’s voice. The call untraceable.
Rhymes checked with RhymeZone
I am depressed, stressed, anxious, she said.
I advised her to help someone else.
There is no better way to lighten your load
She claimed it would not work
Without trying it
I had no time left to listen to her whining
I had children to play with, and lunch to cook.
Get a dog or a cat, I advised her. Get outside of yourself.
She tried to moan more at me, but I had given her my best shot
And she had no other people to call,
For she has alienated everyone else who ever knew her
Every week the same phone call, like a broken record.
Each time I give her ideas about what she could do to help others.
Volunteer at a grade school, read a story to someone who is vision impaired,
Take a meal to someone who just had surgery
It wouldn’t work, she always says
Because she does not know that it always does
But I do, which is why I keep calling her, trying to lighten her load
Also it is a reminder to me that life is good,
As long as I am helping others, and feel I have purpose
I will never stop trying to help her
Because when I help her, I help myself
Every time she says I am so glad I have you,
it uplifts me and puts a little extra zing in my step.
I’m placing my phone call
And I am sure it will never be busy
It will ring for as long as it takes me
To whisper the need I’m addressing
The answer may not come the first time
My request may be a little selfish
But after I’ve asked with a right heart and mind
I can be sure the answer will arrive
And I will be blessed by a gentle caress
From the One who answers every call
His voicemail is never too full
And He never leaves you hanging
His voice comes through loud and clear
As He reveals His Spirit to your heart
And breathes love through your soul
This call, called prayer
Is filled with grace, hope and faith
And a love that abides in this place
Where His Spirit replies
With a answer that lights up the skies
Flows through the veins
A response that brings us to praise
And glorify His precious name
Ephesians 2:8-9 KJV
8 For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God:
9 Not of works, lest any man should boast.
A Phone Call from 1919
David J Walker
It was her earliest photograph
A stolen image
A split seconds motion in
Captured time
And here, in this odd box
For so long it lay
Unseen
And yet a sworn testament
In a storm of its lonely reality undeniable
Where has been stored the beauty
In this thing
That stirs an unknow affection
In one thousand shades of grey
She has a skin doctor, a hand doctor
A freckle doctor, a wart doctor.
She has a joint doctor, and a gum doctor.
I asked if she had a witch doctor.
I could not hear a smile through the phone
But she did not pause, so I was disappointed.
She has an ear, eye, face and joint doctor,
A tooth doctor, a foot doctor and a knee doctor.
She told me everything about each of them.
How many visits she had last week,
How much they each cost, what they did wrong.
Worst phone call ever.
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