Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                              Stay Close to the Telephone

“Stay close to the telephone,” they used to say
Stay close to that Western Electric on the desk or wall
Since news of great importance might come your way
A message from the shop or some emergency call

“Stay close to the telephone” – you couldn’t go out
Without breaking contact in an hour of need
You could only wait in place in fear and doubt
For an order at last to move with speed

“Stay close to the telephone?” It had no reach
But a modern ‘phone drains you like a ****** leech

the problem with “unspoken understandings”-
words never said but meant to be known, is that sometimes
there is no understanding at all,
just hushed words
whispered into a telephone
with a muted receiver.

Red telephone
Next to my bed
How I wish you would ring
A voice on the other side
Smiling with sweet surprise
Red telephone
There were days you were my lifeline
I could dial and speak for hours
Though nobody was there
Just to speak without interruption
Red telephone
Why are you so silent
I'm waiting for that signal
To make-believe that someone is listening ... somebody cares
Red telephone
You ring no more
You've closed the door
The line has been cut
And I pretend no more ...

So when you rang me up,
Just to scream abuse down the telephone line,
Before throwing yours against a wall,
I thought:
You should have been kinder,
If not for the sake of my bleeding ears;
Perhaps for the sake of the mobiles,
That held no fault,
Yet were forced to relay
each punch dipped in hatred,
thrown across the hurt we made.

Last time you called
Just to call me names,
I thought to say:
Don't shoot your messenger,
As you point the blame,
Think about our phones,
Before you take your aim.
But at least you called,
Could you call again?

Paint a tree and a
telephone.
Paint a rabbit
changing its burrow.
Paint rabbit's sweet little
family.
Paint their poo strung together like a necklace.
Make it stink.
Now,
Paint your mother
trying to hide
in the same burrow.
**** the rabbit!
paint a box
&
bury the dead rabbit inside...



- Samar Charulingah Godfrey

Stream of consciousness
traveling down tin cans and a string
going on about Romulus
and ramblings, vibrating in between
half a world away
keeping each other awake
thanks again
for the company

Oft too a flyer.


Thrown to the wolves as lions approach,
Never just left alone.
Kicked out of the club for being too drunk,
The ghosts have stolen your phone.


In this midnight hour a traffic cone,
Is thrown through a greenhouse window, waking up the neighbourhood.
They all see you walking back home;
“He’s up to no good.”


Cans on strings as letters of complaint leap,
Along the local grapevine.
Playing the telephone game, muggle messages,
They all watch and pass a guilty verdict; eye for an eye.
You stand accused of drinking legal beer.
Social complaints against late night cheer.


Revelry is not welcome here,
At the cul-de-sac at the end of the road of fear.
So scared of youth because envy gets old.
So cold to you because you smile like a fool.
So angry!  About nothing.
The rain pours down, feel water proof.
So pointless to have a conversation,
When you are thirty five percent proof.


The drunk is a punk to conservative ways.
They would never be that drunk in their day.


They only ever drank every time they got paid
And every day is now a liquid lunch.
Do you remember an Irish coffee breakfast,
After the after hour’s club?
Now a fine brandy, a sherry or two when visiting;
Or are you so drunk you are still misremembering?


I am righteous!  Pride takes me to church!
To drink the blood and fall asleep
And because whiskey is the only thing that gets you forward,
You lurch!
And stumble over all the pews.
You end with an almighty crash!  


Make up, slapdash,
You landed at the altar and got up to say “I do.”
You got in your car and now you are so sure;
Oh so sure, that you are pure.
You are better than they are…
Really?...
You?


And later as you blow into the straw,
You realise you are not so sure,
That you can see a way out of this.
Why not arrest them!  Instead of me!
Those stupid drunken kids!
They vandalize and disturb my peace!
What about me!  I never did a thing!
I only had a glashh or six (laughs)
And there wasn’t a…er, a lasting damage.


I’m not a drunk!
I think!
I think…

I think I love you…


What place is this...?
Where am I...?
Hey!  
Who are you!  To arrest me!  For being drunk!


The following day, you wake up and say…

What time is it?

Excuse me officer…
What day is this?

It’s Tuesday.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.