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
Categories:
telephone box, fun, humorous, silly, technology,
Form: Rhyme
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
Categories:
telephone box, fun, how i feel,
Form: Rhyme
You have never understood the fear in my voice, shaking and quivering, for life
i begged for my dad
dripping bloody,
pants, underwear running low dangling on my knees
"please pick me up, im..maiden lane..? i'm scared dad. it's dark. and i don't know where i am please.."
i cried
aching painfully,
"i'm on my way, stay right there. telephone box?"
"mhm.." i cried like dying dog.
the click of the phone as he hung up,
pained into my creeping silence
i swallowed into myself,
dripping in the puddle of blood,
that stains my underwear dangling at feet
i press for the pain to mellow but
of course, it doesn't
and blur my vision into the tears streaming bloody hot down my cheeks
feeling my burnt blonde hair and smeared mascara along and in my eyes
the date did not end well
especially when i had to cry to my dad to take me home
Categories:
telephone box, abuse, cry, dad, love
Form: Free verse
He watched her all day,
From behind his window,
fascinated by her persistence,
Hoping for a wholesome dinner,
the warmth and comfort of a home.
She stood, instead, in the telephone box
calling no one, receiving no one.
Surely if she did not phone anyone
One could assume she was waiting for one.
But no one rang. All Christmas Eve.
The wind blew icy cold and it was clear
she was not adequately clothed.
She must have been suffering a lot.
He wanted to shout to her:
Call it a truce, forget the caller,
come to my humble abode
and rest a while. Here's plenty to eat,
turkey, vegetables, mince pies and cakes
and a warmed red sangria
to pump some blood into your face.
She stayed put until midnight
as winter's blizzard opened its doors,
to herald in the birth of Christ.
Her ghost cared not for this,
and tired out she fell
crumbled dead on the floor
of an abandoned telephone box.
Next day they took her away.
He remained at the window,
angry, wondering the why of it all.
It was days later that he remembered.
Then he felt the terrible shame.
He had not helped for her at all.
Categories:
telephone box, christmas, humanity,
Form: Free verse
The uniform-clad
Little boy and girl
Topped with
Matching hats
Standing
Near the exit of the station
Cram school is done
For the night
Making excuses
To stay
The tree
Stays aglow
Through the night
The little boy
In the red T-shirt
Calling the
Telephone box
Mom, can I stay over?
His friends
Patiently
Chittering among themselves
Excitedly
The randoseru
On their backs
Shiny
Rainbow of leather
Gleaming of hope
In their eyes
Adoring
Joy
The old
Red telephone box
Categories:
telephone box, child, children, hope, innocence,
Form: Free verse
Silence. It seems
Is the greatest way to peeve
A woman who believes in speaking
Her mind, ever so freely
Initially, so peacefully
So calm and composed
Not letting him affect her
Just letting it all go
Evil ego firmly guards her flag
Of adamant animosity
Uncaring of the consequence
Without fear she moves along
Distraction, her kindest companion
Friends and family she involves
Avoiding without much effort
The glowing telephone box
A week goes by
Such Ignorant bliss
But still no word he sends forth
Nothing, not even a kiss
Tormented and distraught
Fidgeting with her scarf
Aimlessly driving
To that oh! So familiar spot
Lighter in hand
She anxiously inhales
Peace, momentarily,
Pain, she evades.
From one to ten
She drowns out the sound
Once the tenth was done
Another packet came out
A week, a month
And still no news
Annoyed, her anger
Swells out, so profuse
This game you have played
Might prove perilous for you
For unknowingly
You have played with the maker of this game.
The rules I set
Every move I change
For once the winning hand is laid
Only loss comes your way.
Categories:
telephone box, angst
Form: I do not know?