"phoning" poems
the women of the past keep
phoning.
there was another yesterday
arrived from out of
state.
she wanted to see
me.
I told her
"no."
I don't want to see
them,
I won't see them.
it would be
awkward
gruesome and
useless.
I know some people who can
watch the same movie
more than
once.
not me.
once I know the
plot
once I know the
ending
whether it's happy or
unhappy or
just plain
dumb,
then
for me
that movie is
finished
forever
and that's why
I refuse
to let
any of my
old movies play
over and over again
for
years.
68.8k
Its as if
A solemn oath
To reminiscence
Had memories
Had dreams
Are you tired of me yet?
It just seems
A luxury given
Fluffed pillows
Explaining the simplicity of slumber
Had a memory
Your a dream
Are you gone from me yet?
It was fact
Actuality
Nirvana upon purple hills
Had memories
Haunted dreams
Are you done with me yet?
It was peaceful
A gloomy rainy day
A solemn oath
A luxury given
Fluffed pillows
Nirvana upon purple hills
Delicious night
Filled by yellow pills
Are you high off me yet?
Its as if
You were a memory
Within a dream
A haunted nightmare
So it seemed
Stuck in limbo
Or purgatory
No longer deserving your glory
Naive
Gentle
Kisses
Sweet and simple
Sent me flying high
Are you tired of me yet?
Leave me to runaway
I'm Wilson
Castaway
I am gone from you yet..
Nirvana on purple hills
Fought the fray
Are you done with me yet?
Roaming
To home im phoning
Airplanes
Night walkers
Street and sweet talkers
Getting high off me yet?
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
Another dark day in this dismal old place
Snow clouds were moving in fast
The sky was so dark, and the wind had a chill
This was a storm that was sure gonna last
At Cy's, The Old Pawn Shop was empty except
For Cy and the stores old dog Gruff
The storm was en route and Cy figured that this
Was a good time to go through the stuff
Years of memories, years of tall tales
They were all on the shelves in this store
There was all sorts of jewellery, tvs and clothes
And in the back was at least 40 years more
The door opened sharp and the bell startled Cy
He was checking the watches and clocks
A young man came in, dressed all in black
Cy said "push hard or the **** thing don't lock"
The young man was tall, about six two I'd say
Cy had never seen him before in his life
He'd said "Sir, I've an offer, you can take or can leave"
"And it's the best one you've had all your life"
Cy looked at the man, intrigued though he was
He said "Sit, and I'll put on some tea"
He went to the door, checked the oncoming storm
And then he put the sign up..."BE BACK AT 3"
They sat and they talked, and they laughed as the wind
Blew the snow up against the front door
Cy pulled out some books, went and made some more tea
Then the man left and left Cy in the store.
Later that night, under cover of darkness
The man came on back with a truck
Cy opened up, and with Gruff by his side
They watched as the man quickly loaded the truck
Two days had passed, and the whole town was white
The storm closed the town for a day
The streets were a mess and the schools were all closed
And the kids had the day off to play
On the third day, the town, woke up almost as one
With people phoning up Cy's by the score
For as they all left for work, there all wrapped up in brown
Was a box, sitting by their front doors
Jim, was the first, opened his box outside
Saw the watch that he pawned with Old Cy
Gianni, and Mike, and others as well
Received items they'd pawned by and by
In total you see, almost 200 folks
Opened boxes paid off that dark night
Christmas was early for folks in the town
Given by a young man, who'd done right
Cy gave the names of the people he knew
Even though it was against the Pawn shop man's creed
He'd loaned out the money in interest free loans
To these folks that he knew were in need
About five thirty that day, the young man returned
Cy and old Gruff were waiting inside
They spoke how his stunt was a universal success
And at this, they both laughed till they cried
The man rose from his seat, shook Cy by the hand
Cy asked "Why did you come here?"
The man answered "I'm here after my Mum"
"Her names Mary, and I heard she serves beer"
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 7:41 PM UTC
Scared, to let the words die, he hid, amid the languid luxuries of solitary structuring, lavished of the jaded and anguished lines, for lines melodrama, of the deviled days, of state, of mind, in fate, in kind, of the nether commas, devoid in honest ignorance of written words, dying on the caterpillars, cocooned, in all that's assumed, lost, in metamorphosis, never knowing this, is a dream, within a dream, of hope, clinging with stinging fingertips, ears ringing in the ripplits of a synesthesic pulse of visual signals, subliminally sounding the sirens, of solidarity, in the silent screams, of the sun rising, writhing in wanton seduction of my functions laying the heartened words of dead birds, falling from the sky, hardened in sloven cries, to justify, the means, tapping out on the screens, of a misnomer, a loner, in a coma, phoning you from the corner to warn ya, of the storm, in words prone to patience, in imaginit immaculance of the limitless limits, of livid lovers loving each-others lullabies, lolly-gagging in the illegibility, of our lucidity in the pity of leveled lofts, lovely-ly, levitating in elevating thought, fraught with passionate poetry, of ghostly words, blurred in the debilitating reasoning of reasonable reason, seasonally.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 2:14 AM UTC
You’re probably wondering why I’m phoning you.
It’s a hello call.
Not exactly.
You’re having a lesbian baby.
No, but I am single again.
Don’t tell me you dumped that man woman.
Mary was the love of my life.
She was a brute, she would give tarzan a run for his money.
Never mind that, do you remember when I was finding myself.
Remember it well, I was entering, you said, I think I’m a lesbian.
I know, it was bad timing, but you taught me a lot.
So I did, my Cv now reads, think you’re straight, I’ll change that.
How would you like to do it again.
Okay, you’re beginning to worry me now.
No, I realise you can turn people, you have a gift.
What do you want to turn into.
I want to be a straight lesbian, sort of.
I would love to help, but I’m in a relationship.
That’s okay, I can wait a week or two.
That’s quite funny, see, only lesbians could make jokes like that.
I know, I think you can relesbianise me.
Are you on drugs or something.
No, I liked being in bed with you, you never done anything for me, but I appreciated the effort.
Gee thanks, I’ll update my Cv. Think you're straight, I’ll change that, you’ll be a lesbian tomorrow, with straight tendencies.
See, that’s what I like about you, you’re never bitter. You did say it was a battle to get me into bed, now I’m offering myself on a plate.
I appreciate that, but how does this make you a reborn lesbian.
That’s simple, I won't enjoy it with you, then I’ll realise what I’m missing.
Do you mean you’ll fake it.
Yes, but you won’t know.
I won’t.
No, I’ll dress provocatively and make all the usual noises.
I knew this would happen someday, the twilight zone would come along and take me away to a place where fairies would serenade me with
tea and biscuits. Okay, just realised, thats an old folks home.
Okay girl, let’s get faking.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 9:57 AM UTC
I don't know if it's the whiskey or the cigarettes or the one night stands or the phony lovers phoning you for self affirmation that they too - can **** like a professional star on a cheap website.
I don't know if everything I've ever been told was only a regurgitation of everything someone else has ever been told. If we all function solely through heresy and political agendas.
Blood stains on freshly lit cigarettes, they say those'll **** you - but I'm already dead inside.
Starve myself because the scale hates me
because the models in the magazines are what my lover fancies
because every photograph I've seen within the past several years were of girls resembling holocaust victims - who most likely suffered in the same way that most of those victims have. But only in the sense that, they themselves were the German Nazis malnourishing their Jewish bodies of food.
How awful it must feel, to embody both the **** and the Jewish girl. But I've never actually read Anne Frank's memoir - so what the **** do I know.
If I were skinnier, if I were prettier, if I were smarter, if I read more non fiction and russian literature - if I listened to radio talk shows about politics and found scifi equally as enjoyable as I find raunchy cult classics that make up the subculture stereotype.
Would I then, capture your attention?
I've already lost my own, truthfully. But everything is only temporary anyways.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 6:56 AM UTC
I bought an interocitor and put it in my phone
Now I'm getting messages from galaxies unknown
Klaatu said Gort is broken down and waiting for some parts
From beyond the outer limits, not found on any charts
The Borg said they'll assimilate, 'tis futile to resist
The Thing said it would vegetate upon my groc'ry list
Teenagers from outer space we're in the Twilight Zone
The Blob said it could split in half to make itself a clone
The Robinsons still lost in space, forevermore to roam
Outer space invading soon, and ET phoning home
Arrakis said the planet Earth must meet the Guild's demands
Or Dune would send its giant worms to eat Saharan sands
For fear we'll be invaded and my body snatched away
And all the dreadful thoughts I've had, it's time for me to say
I've put my cosmic calls on hold because, for what it's worth,
I'm getting all the flack I need from good old planet Earth.
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
Let's say,
you're an apple,
but you'd rather be a pear.
The internet recommends
phoning the produce gods,
in hopes of being replanted.
However, there's a catch:
it's a collect call
to another dimension.
And so you sulk and rage,
and pretty much bruise your skin,
until it dawns on you:
Wormholes are
spacetime's phone booth,
and it just so happens,
you're full of them!
Yes indeed!
Going bad never felt so right...
Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 11:44 AM UTC
humorously ludicrous.
the lunar rock flickering
& all that
co$mic glitter
pulsating
almost saying
I should return to the
wretched place
whence I came.
phoning home.
captivated
the moon's only reflecting
radiation from the sun
& some of those ancients
thought that ball of gaseous hell
was god himself.
I am now these clouds
of heaven chemicals &
other toxic emissions &
I am in awe of all of this.
there was an epic in the sky
& unfortunately I am limitied by
a lack of understanding of the
technical jargon.
the sad fact is to me
real ideology is not possible
& nothing but impractical knowledge.
.... and I don't follow.
I'm afraid
I don't follow
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 3:25 AM UTC
Remember when life was delivered
from milk right on down to your meat
There'd be people out delivering groceries
At least two on every side street
If you neglected to pick up an item
Just phone up and talk to the store
A delivery boy would soon bring it
You don't get this service no more
Each house had a door for deliveries
Your milk, cheese and eggs would all fit
If you call up today and said "tab it"
The person you're phoning would ****
Ice was delivered in wagons
Horses pulled them around every town
But, today ony fast food is delivered
And delivery horses aren't found
Every morning when you'd get your paper
It was delivered as well by a kid
You could smell the fresh bread in the morning
with the glass bottles of milk with gold lids
Remember when life was delivered
It was all a much simpler time
Back when customer service was special
No it's gone and that's just a crime
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 1:22 PM UTC
The game was on again on Friday
We've been players in the game
Sometimes we were the winners
And others...hey, it's just a game!
The players have all lined up
there are five out on the field
Let's see if someone scores tonight
And which one of them will yield
Three guys lined up and facing
Two women opposing them
All were ready, set to go
Let's get started then
White sweater, jeans
The first to move
It looks like we'll see a pass
But, from here his jeans are baggy
5 yard loss for baggy ***
The women laughed and smiled
They were on defence right from the start
The guys would have to send their best
If they were gonna win their hearts
Red workshirt, chinos, ballcap
Makes his way and gets quite far
He's armed with two tequilas
He doesn't see their longnecks on the bar
They laughed and drank his offer
He made some progress
second down
He makes off to his buddies
It's left up to their friend in brown
He ventures out to the jukebox
Finds something upbeat
for a dance
But chino's turned right on his heels
He's called an audible....second chance
He reaches out to both the girls
He gets their before his friend
If he fumbles this, his game is done
He won't be here at the end
We've seen this game a thousand times
Every week at every club
The players..always different
But the game's the same and there's the rub
Back to our five players
The man in brown got blocked before
He even made it to the girls
But, he barely made it to the floor
Red workshop wins this time folks
It looks like he won't go home alone
But, the girls have got another play
and it involves phoning home
The sudden ring's resounding
It shakes the bar and stops the man
Because while they were out dancing
He saw the rings on both their hands
Like I said, the game is always
going on ...with newer rules
It's amazing how married women
Make the men all look like fools
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
Lunch was done, decisons made
the table cleared, the bill was paid
Final words were spoken
And none more truer than..
Have your people call my people
And we'll do this again.
They went back to the office
And they thought, hey he was right
I'll have my people call his people
And we'll hit the bar tonight
Funny how a line like that
Can set one's mindset soaring
Sitting down and making plans
It sure broke up the boring
Afteroon ahead, that each of them could see
But going out again that night
Well, then they would be free
Wives at home, while they were out
Drinking, flirting...what the hey
The ony question left now
Was which of them would pay?
But as one's folk called the others
And the plans were carved in stone
They would finish out their day
And then they would head home
They'd have "my people call your people"
And plan a meeting late
They would do it on the sly
It would be their watergate
But, people being people
Their plans were overheard
By a coniving young new intern
And she wrote down every word
Since she was one of the people
She started making calls
Phoning every number of every wife
This woman sure had *****
She told them how "the people"
planned to go out after work
How their family type duties
Each one had planned to shirk
So these people called their people
And made plans of their own
They would keep it all a secret
Until the men got home
Men forget that wives have people
And that their people kind of rule
When the men all try to hide stuff
By doing stuff that isn't cool
The men, all smug and smiling
Thinking of the fun to ahead
Would walk on in their house
And stay until the kids were all in bed
Then their people would start calling
Making sure the lie was told
About that late night meeting
At a bar where beer was cold
But, that coniving young new intern
Making calls to all the wives
Had laid out every detail
Had ruined all their lives
As each man sat for dinner
Thinking of what the night would bring
At each house, just 5 minutes in
Every phone would ring
It was her people calling people
Telling each wife where to meet
They would have to leave the husbands
And they would not be so discreet
For their people all called people
And the men's plans all were blown
As the women went out drinking
And left the men at home
So next time when your people
Call and plan things on the side
Make sure your intern isn't there
Or else your plans are fried
I'll have my people phone your people
And we'll get together soon
But in order that we pull it off
We'll have to leave at noon.
May 1, 2012
May 1, 2012 at 5:58 PM UTC
End of Drama
Mom
It’s elder sister’s sobbing voice
The face was swollen and reddish
It made me sad
What’s that speech
What will happen to you
When we die
In near future
To where you run away
Tell the truth
Dad seemed annoyed
He beat her
For the first time
Sister started moaning
I can’t wake up early
To prepare his lunch
She muttered
Dad smiled
With a sarcastic look
I saw him phoning
To someone
I’ll have my lunch from outside
I saw her husband
Stroking her head gently
The situation changed
Laughing and happiness
We all looked at the couple
Leaving home together
Embracing each other
Like a newly married couple
Sunil Algama November 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
these people
I can’t see them anymore
I don’t want to see them anymore
I have no desire to see them anymore
I never think about
phoning them or
messaging them or
stopping by to say “hi.”
I don’t care about
what’s happening
in their lives or
who they’re dating
or what memories
we had together
yet they insist, they demand
that I visit them
that I sit down with them
that I talk about nothing important
with them
and I can’t say no
because I know how it feels:
during those times,
when I was down and out
and needed someone
to turn to, to talk to
but there was no one around
I felt the terror & the darkness
constricting my cold and lonely heart
as all the vitality and connection was draining
from my ventricles of ire
like blood from a stone
and so much of that
over a lengthy period of time
has made me a lot stronger,
more independent from people
and maybe even borderline aloof
from all human interaction
I no longer need them
I no longer want them around
but I can’t let anyone
feel that same way
that I felt
so long ago.
pitiful.
Jun 12, 2025
Jun 12, 2025 at 12:57 PM UTC
i love how after 70cl of whiskey my
metabolism is up and running -
i know, egoistical self-indulgent crap,
but it works! i get to say **** you
to 99 people and say: come on in
to 1 - but that doesn't even
matter, given the circumstance
of the 1 being a schizophrenic;
but hey! i grew a beard
after all, being post-25 years of age,
so a fully grow Amazon on my cheeks
and chin, a welcome reminder of:
the Aztecs played football too,
but it was more like
****** of San Francisco mixed
with golf mixed with netball
mixed with the ailing N.H.S.
chanting: god save our bed-shitting queen,
god save our precious artefacts from
Hindustan. and Gobi the cabby from
new Delhi -
god save our... a round of pints for the lot
of us! way-hey! charging into crusades with
a jaguar export from Germany under
the slogan: Vein Diesel biceps-flexed:
too fast, and two of each:
that'll be a pistachio - say it as meaning
lime green, go on - oi! ******
who's that Russian hooligan with pistaccio?!
one keg-pouch over here must have minded
the safety-belt limit
prior to a heart-attack and you're giving me
all Abba lip-sarge and surging...
gimme gimme a man at half time...
two pints and a burger in and i'll be
juicing up a saxophone for a crescendo better than
this one...
well... it was lovely to meet you, send my
best regards to your mother, a sincerely;
i swear to god, when i'm done, the only
person you'll be phoning will be your mother.
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
Static. All I hear is static.
And the mumbles of your game.
Always playing that stupid game
As if you couldn't function without it.
I don't want to hear about it.
It doesn't interest me in the least.
(Mostly because I have no idea what you're saying)
I wouldn't have a problem with it,
Except for the fact that you only half listen.
You only have respond too.
Saying 'Yeah's and 'Okay's as if it can apply to everything.
I can only try so much until eventually
All you hear is static.
Static and the sounds of football.
Oct 6, 2010
Oct 6, 2010 at 3:39 PM UTC
i have found myself frozen by the cold moments of my life
living a circle of repeat cold
no spring on the horizon
i spend my days dreaming up a flurry of wishes
each more liberating than the next
giving my heart wings of gold to soar
soar so high i disappeared on the horizon
i created near perfect scenarios to live in my head
accompanied by a near perfect partner
the only man to ever call be beautiful
a man that i can make blush by just phoning
an aspiration no-one knew except me
my eyes have seen much
him i still have to see
my heart have seen
what a sight to remember
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 12:26 PM UTC
This is the way we were -
on meeting
I decided
I would build up some arm muscle
so that I would be able to squish your head inside of a coconut
or simply bash you with a coconut
or at least witness a coconut fall
and see you trip over that coconut
as if it were a banana peel
our fated meeting
that feeling
was horrific
I met you again
thought
a coconut attack is rather harsh
all you needed was a wee personality fix
a douse of hail
similar to a drenching in cold water
but harder
your skull was thick
you were headstrong
and I hadn't gotten around to weakening it
with those coconuts
and that destined meeting
was little better
than our first greeting
and encore
I witnessed a sweet you
the one that gave candy to a child
and passed by those kittens in a box
and it was fleeting
your kindness,
I considered you cheating
and then you showed up
who knows why
when you thought I was upset
I swear you only wanted to comfort me
for no good reason
because a movie isn't worth it
yet my heart
for you
was changing like the season
and it was leaving
that stored up bucket I had of
seething
and my first step in your direction
was when I learned
that you hadn't liked that candy anyways
when I learned
you spent hours phoning your acquaintances
before you resigned to calling the pet center
***
and somewhere along
I forgot my hate
you became a fountain
instead of a well
by that far along
our love wasn't matched
yours had grown strong
mine just hatched
now I could say
with truth
that I love you
it's just that
it's rough that
I can no longer catch you
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
I remember phoning my best friend
crying into the phone
My entire core collapsing in on itself
I was sobbing words into the phone
They felt like shards of glass coming out of my mouth
**** I have never cared about anyone
I have never ******* cared about anyone but my ******* self
All I ever do is pity my ******* self
I do not matter
What the ****
You told me what I wanted to hear
That I mattered and all that
or thats what I could remember as the champagne bubbles clouded my thoughts.
I hung up, not knowing if I had finished the conversation or not
I focused hard on the steps as I stumbled my way up the stairs.
Collapsing in front of my dresser
Wanting something
I knew what I wanted at the time
I wanted a blade
Anything
Anything to take my ******* self hate away
The horrible words I had thrown
I layed with my head on the cold tile floor
cold metal blade in my hand
four new Scarlett marks on my thigh and ivory tear stains on my cheek.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 3:26 AM UTC
The result of logic and hope
Is akin to the percent of those who make it out the ghetto without getting hooked on dope
Is lowkey a joke
When you're raised at the bottom
You know there's nobody down there just dolling out helping hands
So what else is a victim to do but turn villain and give into society demands
Many try
But if a man can't see a path for his own potential to be fulfilled, how do you expect his faith to survive, let alone thrive?
Life used to be a board game
Now its a socially engineered maze that takes an array of chess moves just to buy-in
And the crime is for certain groups making it out isn't an option so the game becomes rigged with all too familiar conclusions
Young promiscuous masculine ego driven women give babies to young emotional juveniles males who in many cases become convicted men convinced they can be good institutionalized dads all while reaching his now juvenile son from behind that glass
Delusions have some of us thinking we can see the forest from the trees
But as within so without
And so as long as you remain a slave to your thoughts chances are so will your seed
A picture is worth a thousand words
But if EBT and genocide is all these babies see
What else you think they gon' grow up to be?
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
Wah would I have never to see her again
Wah did I do to her bleeding heart once then
Wah was it I did and yet did not too say so well
Wah was it and who's cast under who's casted spells
Wah baits and switches me quick in such which-eries
Wah was it unexpectedly now and then again again
Wah a pet up set up upset and talking is cheaper
Wah and phoning is phony for nothing dear
Wah more is dear more than riding her
Wah heart in arms eyes and all
Wah woman woman woe
Wah woe pony quake
Wah ride or earth
Wah shatters
Wah Q
U
A
K S
E
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
Pretty, I'm pretty.
Sparkles my name used to be tiny dancer.
The bouncer loved me.
But the guys paid money.
I lived with one.
He made me insane.
He said I was used up and would be nothing again.
The bouncer knew until he cared no more.
Another guy came in again and again.
Smiling, stuff I couldn't fucken stand.
I decided I would end my life that night.
That other guy always ask me out.
This time I said yes.
Knowing I was ending my life that night.
I was fine.
Out we went. Home I came.
Pour myself a bath and saw the straight razor.
Started to use it on my wrists.
Door bell rings.
**** he forgot his hat.
He said he had a great night.
With my towel wrap another me and my hands behind my back he reached for a hug and never looked back.
Bathroom bound again.
My ex came home and found me in the bathroom.
He was so ****** about the mess.
You know me bleeding everywhere.
He phoned 911.
Off I went.
After I was stitched up.
And made a ran for the door....out of the ward.
Back I went. I was sent downstairs in the cold unfinished basement to heal.
Buddie kept on phoning me.
I finally got the call.
He said whats going on haven't heard from you in a week.
Strange thing is my jacket on the back had blood on it the night I drop you off.
Told him my story and we were packed up within two days.
We went home as he put it.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
Goodbyes are the hardest part
Seeing you walk towards the door
I can feel my heart beat in my ears
You are one step from the door
Everything in me wants to yell
Stop please don't leave me
Silently I scream
I knew that even you stayed
Life would never be the same
Your love left long before you did
For months you were just phoning it in
Your love for me was nothing but fabricated
Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 10:44 AM UTC
i took the time to make a sandwich.
frail mastodons were creaking through the heather of our mattress
every one, an actress phoning in the last line of a mass migration
a herd of disingenuous rats, cackled slovenly
over hillocks of your dale.... on occasion -
lithium
pale thunder comes, speaking drivel in the weather of your hapless
scary nuns, in mad habits, draconian; rabid blasts in stasis
disturbed. fiendish hats, ****** almondine
over black walnuts; rather roam the hells... like an alien
than love someone
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 4:32 AM UTC
I need $500 to achieve my dream
This time I'm E.T.
I'm phoning home
No longer going with the flow
One ride away
I'll be dancing on the footsteps of life
No more hell holes or traps
So if you could generously send me some mullah
I'll add $15 to any donation over $50
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC