Kiva Feb 24
Nothing more sickening than a love song,
Nothing more false, more shallow, more untrue than a love song,
That sentimental shit, that clusterfuck shithouse churning it dials and nobs,
Blistering on the back of your car seat,
"I think I'm going to be sick" you say,
"I think I'm going to be sick."

Change the channel,
Turn it off.

Don't you think I need some time alone?
Don't you ever ask?

About my thoughts, their rhythm,
Their bend and snap,
Their pulse?

Don't you ever wonder about my dreams,
About the man who lurks, a deep crease in the circuit, a cut on my sleeve.

What did you say? What was that? I can't hear you, the lines bad.

The timings wrong.

I need to be alone
Star BG Jan 31
A voice vaguely familiar
echoed on phone line.
The kind of line
filled with black birds
ready to take flight and paint skies
with their bodies black to hide sun.

The voice that trampled
on dreams long gone.
Stabbing knife in heart
where love once grew.
that floated away
when their voice
severed our relationship.

A voice now out of blue,
coming back to haunt.
Silence encourage him
to continue his sorry song.

And when he concluded,
I simply said "No."
And hung up the phone.
Got an annoying  telemarketing call but it sparked this.
xuans Oct 2017
two cans, held together with strings
a common thread in ways we think
like telepathy
but better

the way our eyes would meet
and suddenly your mind i read
how your words echoed itself on the insides of my mind
even as we sat together, silent

you lay your hands on me, gently
getting to know me
and in doing so, entangling
the red thread between us, binding

the connection, complicated
strings tied up against each other
words once warm, now lost in translation
muffled, and audible no longer

i see you, no distance between us
yet your words...unintelligible
"do i know you?"
perhaps...only in the past

all these words I want to place lightly on your skin
like cold raindrops skimming your chin
a warm embrace,
a beautiful face.

i guess i got too caught in my mind,
realisation came too late
a broken connection
was all i find

two cans, each other repelling
in many ways saddening.
a mystery
left open-ended forever.
haven’t been writing poetry for a really long time now, I’m finally back! :)
timestopper Jul 2017
I wore my three piece suit
combed my hair back
after wearing my wrist watch.
I had my phone book ready
to go to the neighborhood telephone,
500 meters away.
In 5 minutes I shall reach.
Here I am, at the phone booth.
Phone book opened,
quarters and dimes ready
spinning the dial, number by number.*

No answer.
All you had to do is swipe your finger on a screen.

Maybe it's I who's selfish
because I never stayed, to find out if you ever called back
Em Sep 2016
phone lines connect to phone wires
and birds sit on telephone wires
we don't sit Together
but I can't fly away
I Wait -
like mothers wait up at night for their teenage daughters,
like the Moon waits for the Sun to set,
but they never meet each other's peaks
and neither do we.
we drive our lives on Parallel lines,
and you have tinted windows
that only allow your rear-view mirror to know your eyes
as well as I wish I did.
and Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
but your lips have never called Beauty in my presence
and nothing of yours has held anything of mine -
I want to make a connection between these polar opposite poles
where birds sing Love songs
and flock Together.
beneath their feet there is
coming through.
but I'm waiting for your call.
a random ramble for a slow friday afternoon
Sean Tierney Jun 2016
you've figured
it out
my single minded

I raise
my arms
in protest
*or to best catch
your accurate
another re-write. the book is coming together fast!!
And I waited;
Waited, and waited.
Waited for the telephone to ring,
Waited for the silence to subside.
Trust me, the silence was deadly.
Trust me, it gave me goosebumps,
On these forearms.
Remember, how you used to hold my hand tight?
Remember, how I used to embrace you proudly?
Do you even remember the days,
When you used to luxuriate on my shoulders?
Trust me, I really want those days back.
Notwithstanding the best of memories made,
The telephone remained silent.
Life turned hostile.
But I waited.
Waited, and waited.
Waited for long,
Waited, for at least an explanation.
Waited by the side of the window,
From where the old tree could be seen.
Do you remember that old tree,
Where we used to rest after tiring bicycle rides?
Do you even remember the autumn evenings,
When we used to burn the dry leaves for some warmth?
And now, the tree, has shed all its leaves.
It was dressed as a beautiful bride some days ago,
But now, she has left all her ornaments.
Whatever it is, summer is on its way again,
One more autumn passed by.
But the telephone did not ring.
It was dead silent.
Trust me, I could not sleep all this while,
Not even did I doze for a minute.
Still I waited.
Waited for long.
And now, I'm tired,
Tired of waiting,
Waiting, for at least an explanation.
And hence, I'm sleepy.
And hence, I'm drowsy.
I kept my senses active,
As long as my bodily system could permit,
But, trust me,
Now I'm tired;
Tired of waiting.
Hence, I shall sleep;
Sleep, the deepest of slumbers.
And maybe, the telephone will ring then.
Sean Tierney Feb 2016
like a quickly sinking
(through schools
of painted eye
in gold lace)
all the way
to Heracleion
Sean Tierney Feb 2016
there was a time when
dimes and telephones
knew each other as well
as allied nations
once fighting
the same enemy
before becoming
in restless sleep
under a full moon
the mists of rain
swarming with demons
of the hidden soul
I keep dreaming
   I hear
the ringing of the telephone

my lifeline
to my beloved
so distant   and yet
almost painfully close
behind my half-closed eyes

so I stumble down
stairs in the dark
grab the receiver
and listen
   with freezing heart
to echoes
   of silence

           * *
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