I hate when my cable’s out of order.
It seems I call them again and again.
If it’s not one thing then it’s another.
And all of it is surely a big pain.
Sometimes I’ll be forever on the phone
just waiting for a person to get through to.
It’s worse when the technician that I get
is someone seeming to live in Timbuku.
It never fails that they cannot help me.
Then they schedule me for a repair date,
which is any time between 12 and 5.
I stay home all afternoon just to wait.
Even worse is when my Roku box
is on the fritz, for there’s no help for me
when that goes out! For that, I’m on my own.
It’s not part of my cable’s warranty.
But these are such small problems when I think
of all the bad things in the world today.
I need to fix my mind on what is good:
at least TV’s in color now -not black, white and grey.
There is a leak I can’t seem to fix,
I called the technician,
but nobody came.
Feelings I’ve kept hidden for years
are pouring out,
bursting with intensity,
destroying the dam
I’ve spent a lifetime building.
My thoughts spiralling
in an endless vortex of misery
I cannot contain.
My heart weakened by sorrow,
burning with desire.
To speak my truth
is a battle between soul and ego,
my pride restricting my tongue,
sealing my lips in willed silence.
A veiled heart cannot be harmed,
vulnerable or exposed.
Yet this feeling of torture persists,
My truth seeping out slowly—
all in vain.
You’ve left me to waste away,
drowning in this puddle
of my own making.
Am i not worth recovery?
Wont you pull me out
and save me from myself?
Was our love not sweet enough?
Was my touch not warm enough?
Who do I have to be,
to be worthy
of the dream you sold me?
One was from a blood test;
One was from a scan.
Both caused much anxiety,
As bad news always can.
Follow-ups determined
There was no cause for concern,
Which has made me start to wonder,
Just what lesson can we learn?
To never trust a doctor
Or technician or result?
Or to not jump to conclusions
After yelling, “Oy gevalt!”?
Guess it serves as a reminder
That we cannot quite rely
On results which bring up death,
A truth we’d rather just deny.
Skilled in the art of technician.
Trained to the point of perfection.
Elevated to the level of master technician.
Projecting a soothing voice that expresses kindness.
Having the ability of treating her patience with tender and loving care.
Always ahead of what's to be done.
Never lacking behind what's to be accomplished.
Intellectual in her words, actions and ideas.
Easily trusted in the roll of supervisor.
The other day
I lay for an echo of my heart
The technician scanned my chest and sides
I could hear my heart pant aloud
Oh boy! Was that a chugging train,
a distant wail, water gurgling,
or a rhythmic rub inside an empty tub?
The guy sure was at frantic speed
wailing all the while
Thank the Lord
He has made sure
we never hear
the perturbations
of this friend of ours
labouring inside each of us
all twenty-four hours
The Lord is my technician,
I shall not err
He makes me work effectively well in my workplace
He brings me back my good condition
He screwed my loose parts firmly in His side.
He repairs the spare parts of my body and soul
for my wellness, holiness and proficiency sake.
Even though I work overtime as needed;
I still have time for Him,
Thy divine tool and Holy Spirit fix me
Thou apply conversion lubricants to my rusty parts and soul;
My engine and spirit runneth smoothly,
Surely productivity and efficiency shall generate on me
all the days of my missions
And my owner will be glad on me
And I will function well in His company as long as I live.
It is with great sadness we say goodbye.
To a truly smashing real good guy.
His name is Mike Parke who was our boss
The whole of 202 now feel lost.
He leaves behind his good lady.
The one we know simply as Kady.
Our sympathies are really with you.
From all the guys and girls from 202.
Mike you were a quality bloke.
And this sad news made us all choke.
Soldiers and Friends all alike
Wish to say farewell Mike.
As a technician you were a card
Your first lines were really hard
As a boss you were the best
Now you can be laid to rest.
It eventually comes to an end
When we have to say goodbye to a dear friend
You will be missed by one and all
Until we meet at heavens ball
Squirrel was excited. Today is the day! My Google fiber will be here!
We have to charge you extra, the technician man said, to be perfectly clear.
I do not care, squirrel rapidly said with glee, bring Google Fiber up to me!
This is my first time, admitted the cable guy as he climbed the solid oak tree.
Cable was finally in, internet worked like a dream, payment could commence.
See that field to the right? Squirrel said. Giant walnuts are next to that fence.
But we do not take walnuts, the technician said, we only take cash money.
So squirrel got crow involved, for he had given lots of shiny coins to his honey.
Gremlins, that’s what the technician said…
Faulty technology is what I dread!
Glitches untold are hidden by moguls’ gold.
But they should correct what the masses are sold.
What would it take?
What could we make?
In a day, in an hour,
Working with reliable power…
As more work goes online,
We’re told all will be fine.
But the internet’s down.
And the gremlins think I’m a clown.
With plenty of time
To ponder a rhyme.
Then at the end of the day,
All the gremlins will say,
“Oh, what a thrill we have had…
Sorry! Our bad…”
The man on the moon knew he could get ruined, if he couldn’t get back to his cocoon.
Was he maroon on the cocoon. Or just an illusion for a conclusion.
It could’ve been all a delusion without a conclusion. Said the Man on the Moon. Because, I just had a transfusion.
The man on the moon was late for his appointment with his pediatrician which was in prison with a dental technician.
Now you’re probably confused, with this, new news.
The man on the moon had news he was so confused. He felt like he was overused.
confidentially, Respectfully, I must tell you. What my pediatrician said.
I was a proud new father of a baby boy hemorrhoid. So proudly, he pulled out a Polaroid. And now he had a picture to share with his wife Sarah Lloyd
Stands for Registered Behavioral Technician.
Their work is not fiction.
The parents that once treasured a cure.
Are taught that just because their child is demure-
Does not mean we cannot provide a ladder that leads them to autonomy.
And that together, we will uncover the shadows that once covered their opportunity!
He comes out to the orchestral suite of William Walton's Henry V
Refuses to shake hands with Jimmy
Sits unemotional on the plush armchair
I'm the technician running the cameras
Standing with a clipboard and head-set
Rousing the studio audience
Before agreeing to go on the show
He'd signed an understanding that said
He'd refuse to play Lip Sync Battle
He welcomed the make-up, but was
Seemingly agitated with the microphone
Up through the ruff
He sips the concoction that he first
Examined with suspicion and continues
To wear the provided sunglasses
That were deemed a solution to the bright lights
But also the dark glasses contain the secrets in his eyes
The ones he cannot disguise
After his disaster of an interview
I hand him this poem and after reading it
He suddenly shows an interest in playing Slapjack
small car
by far...
entered
centered
big one
all done
backseat
athlete
four flats
congrats
It was my first yoga lesson (after coaxing)
I was stretching every muscle in my body
Our leader was encouraging us, saying "Breathe!"
Frankly, I thought I was not doing so shoddy.
My sissified murmur turned into a loud gasp
When I pulled a fragile ligament in my heel
Suddenly, I felt this horrendous stabbing pain
A disgruntled sigh, I knew yoga was real.
I heard the leader whisper with a hint of scorn
As she stopped her eager class and took me aside
"Oh, I am so sorry you are hurting; I think
I will summon an ambulance for you to ride!"
As they were hauling me out of the studio
My entire left foot was throbbing with searing pain
The medical technician spoke to the leader
I heard her utter my name with thin-veiled disdain.
I never returned for another yoga class
A few of my best friends could not understand why
But I told them my experience with yoga
Would not merit another fortuitous try.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
written April 26, 2021
"Writing Prompt - Breathe- Contest"
sponsored by Constance La France
I am an armchair detective
An armchair forensic anthropologist
An armchair criminal investigator
I solve every case; and quickly.
I am an armchair forensic pathologist.
An arm chair blood spatter analytic technician.
I solve murder after murder
On a daily basis.
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