"telemarketers" poems
Let's Hold Up Our Glasses And Make A Toast
Here's To The Liars,
The Cheaters,
The Hatrers,
And The Women Beaters
Here's To The Feet Draggers,
Body Baggers,
The Backstabbers,
And The Joint Draggers
Here's To The DUI Kills,
People Tryin To Keep It "Trill",
People Who Don't Reach To Pay The Bill,
And To The People Who Need A Refill
Here's To The Governments Killing Their Own,
Here's To Telemarketers Who Blow Up My Phone,
To The People In My Life Who Keep Breaking Me,
To That One Boy With A Heart Cold As Stone
Here's To The Chemistry Tests,
Being Enternally Upset,
Enternally Recked,
Here's To The People Who Scream In My Face
Here's To All The Pain,
Heres To The Knifes Which Have Cut A Vein,
To All The Guys Who Just Wanna Piece Of ***
Heres To All The People I Dread In My Math Class
As You Can See.. I'm Not Even Holding A Glass
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 8:43 AM UTC
A shadow cast over days past,
like a mast spread for a wind blast
hailing from the wintery north.
Don't think it done until the day's won.
The mistake was made,
the spider web spun over a grenade
that landed on our shores.
They attacked our backyard,
yet we don't act scarred,
we brush it off despite
their continued shelling,
like we can refuse what they're selling.
Telemarketers don't send tapes yelling
that we're all gonna go to hell.
Only enemies that know
we have already fell.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
My body is not
a wonderland.
there is nothing
sultry about
A Cold.
'Come hither' with a
red nose?
Oh Baby...
Commentary on
Modern Music,
nearly halted by
an almost snot rocket...
Authority tempered
with a rasp.
"Did you know you could
DIE if you hold in a sneeze?"
9 year old anecdotal prophet's
looming outline, right up close to
my face.
messy half-dreams under the
futile winter-hat Reality Shield in the
backseat of Homeward bound
Economy Wheel Gathering.
**** Man Voice to
telemarketers.
No sir, that's Mrs. White.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
My tired eyes,
my fatigued mind
falls slow and time becomes obscured by
the drowsy raven sailing sunset sky boulevard.
My phone is ringing orders and misdirection calls,
that funny little radiation box hollering voices
of somewhere, telemarketers in India, automated messages,
spurious connections anywhere but here.
The rain-shine of approaching April Wednesday
trails golden hues among the treeline being viciously
torn like a gradual atomic bomb flattening the hoary hills
and spectacular firs beryl in frequent times of showers.
Each day I hope for that fabled resurgence,
nearly a year my fingers have been crossed
while wars are still wars, politicians still politicians,
gods still gods. Everything is so still, silence among fury.
Carpet bombings, protests, genocides, reforms, riots, the drowsy
raven circles in view of the window and my thoughts cycle around
my washing machine consciousness wiping off the grit of untruths
of everywhere else but within myself. That seems to be the problem
with most people.
As the clouds roll in, as the sun subsides into darkness,
as my mind is clouded by that ever-expanding raven encompassing
night sky and nightmares, I realize I hadn't even gone out at any point
that day and probably wouldn't the next.
We've become so dull some of us.
Vacuums inside of vacuums.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
shunning all "new possibilities"
we move in Simple Patterns!
in Well Known Rhythms!
AS SOFTLY AS WE CAN!
still....
......................(out there)
IT IS KNOWN THAT WE EXIST!
telemarketers and muggers
are all around
we
the Puppets of the
Financial Manipulators of the Markets!
the Puppets of the
International Lawless Corporations!
wallowing here in the new
Quasi Slave State
formerly known as
Amerikka!
yes
we shuffle
in
pure Steppin Fetchit
style!
thru these
abused and abusing Days
occasionally F--king
or getting Drunk
hearing about ourselves on the "news"
and yet
SO RELIGIOUSLY
shunning
all .........."new possibilities!!"
WHY WE DO THIS?
GOD-ONLY..........
............................KNOWS!
Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 2010 at 10:36 AM UTC
You know those oh so annoying calls?
telemarketers
They **** you off so much right?
Wells heres tips on how to deal with them
THE RIGHT WAY
1. Don't be rude to them
its not their fault your number popped up on their call list
2. Don't be mad when their information is wrong
again ITS NOT THIER FAULT that the lists they were given were never updated
3. DO NOT MOCK THEM!!!
They are Smart people annd know when you are, They have feelings to you know!
4. DO NOT UNDER ANY CUIRCUMSTANCES CALL THEM NAMES OF ENDERMENT
baby, sweetheart, hunny, sweety. Its creepy, uncomfortable, and makes you look like a disrespectful creep
5. DO NOT CALL THEM DEGRADING NAMES
***** The C word, ***** ect ect, all it does is make you look like a complete and utter disrespectful Douchbag*
6. the most improtant one of all!!!
If you are fed up completely then just NICELY ask them to put you on thier do not call list
It takes 30 days for that request to go through after that you wont be bugged by them again
THERE YOU GO PEOPLE.
NOW COME ON
LETS ALL PLAY NICE
SHALL WE???
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
Why is there so much distrust,
Fueling hatred, malice and lust?
We're caught up in every scam's gust
Leaving many financially bust
Including telemarketers' thrusts
Continuously feeding disgust
We're riding social media's cusp
Allowing real friendships to rust
Causing us to constantly adjust
Leaving us completely nonplussed
Making too many tasks a must
Till we nigh spontaneously combust
Perhaps leaving God's Word thus,
On the shelf gathering dust
This matter needs to be sussed
Not with haphazard zeal but robust
By a brotherhood of people we can trust
With a worldwide campaign to discuss
Preventing impending zero-sum bust
Before we're all planetary dust
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 7:17 PM UTC
Telemarketers get a bad rap.
People call us impersonal drones.
We’re just trying to eke out a living,
armed just with a script and a phone.
My place is called “Cubicle City”.
It’s the dream of a lifetime for me:
Five thousand square feet of space underground
where the bowl-a mat once used to be.
Joey is one of my workers,
For years he’s been one of my best.
He knew how to deal with rejection
and make many more sales than the rest.
Just lately, his work has been suffering.
Last night he was crying on phone.
I see he’s been calling one number
far too often. I see that it’s his own.
Now I am a curious fellow
about all these short calls to his home.
I pick up my handset and dial it
to tell her to leave Joe alone.
Of course I would get a recording;
A woman’s voice, honeyed and sweet,
It seductively says “leave a message,
when you hear the sound of the beep.”
Puzzled, I asked his co-worker
To tell me, when Joe’s not around,
“What has been up with him lately?
I notice that Joe has seemed down.”
Judy tells me that Joe’s wife had left him.
For weeks he’s been living alone.
The calls have become his obsession;
Just to hear his wife’s voice on the phone.
I nod, but elect to do nothing;
I, too, had a wife of my own.
I recall when she left me- just four barren walls
and the sound of her voice on the phone.
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 6:19 AM UTC
I don't want to go
I never loved them
Not like my friends
I recently lost
They all have lives
I live with my mom
I have no future
Planned out
The only way
I hear a friendly voice
Is when I answer the phone
When the telemarketers call
I have no job
They all pay bills
They look at me funny
Like I'm pathetic
They don't know me
Not anymore
I don't want to go
I'm too embarrassed
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
I cannot give I'm broke
I do not have that's no joke
What you ask I cannot abode
Still payin on what is owed
I'm sorry I cannot comply
And do not wish for a harsh goodbye
But I cannot do what is asked of me
For I have nothing you see
So no matter how it is you put it
I have no money not even a little bit.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 10:10 PM UTC
There are sixteen messages on my answering machine
Human interaction, you know
I try not to do that anymore
Although I'm not trying much of anything lately
I'm not sure there's anything left to try
Everything I'm feeling has already been felt
Everyone I love has already been loved more
I don't know how to love someone anymore
I don't even know how to be someone anymore
People make my sense of self shake
People made my sense of self in the first place
There are splinters of humans in my consciousness
But mostly it's just me in here
And it's actually none of them on my message machine
Just a bunch of telemarketers
Selling me their souls for nineteen ninety nine
I forgot how silky apathy can be
Constricted around my waist
And laced up in the back of my mind
Always there, always far away
Until everyone's out of sight
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
synchronistic wistfulness
as whiskered bliss seekers twist
in the mist - resisting fists
they insist on listing
that which might bring blistering
like a toxic ring – singing telemarketers
embarking journey, Skylark_Buick
truant Mister simplistically playing Twister
sister shifts the syncopate
and we wait
…………………..
grateful for the break and taking
glitter flake covered roller-skates to the frozen lake
mistakenly banking to sharply
frost bitten carp seems
too dark in the evening
like Marky Mark bringing fresh beats
to a Lou Reed jam on the mean streets
neither much enjoying to eat sweets
but seemingly twin-like between the ole bed sheets…….
……………………
spoke out of turn regarding their *** lives
pretty sure at least one of them had a fat wife
who lived off of bonbons and smoked a chipped crack pipe
…………………
unsure how to end I can’t help but still write
and because words do flow I consider this just right
can you guess my favorite whale? Obviously,
the Right
favorite airplane designers
...... also the Wright -
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
and here I am
grounded
only by the sound
of the rhythm
of the sweet
your voice a melody
caught worlds apart
as I tear through thoughts
and sing sad songs
feeling restless
feeling anxious
hoping maybe its all gone
I’ve hoped for so long
for a trip to see Alaska
finally free
but selfishly
I never wanted to be me
just like you were never you
a beauty of a dream
a picture perfect muse
but here I am
grounded
and feeling free
finally feeling like I’m me
but to say it all
you’d say how far
we’ve been
and came
and are
so I wait for telemarketers
to call me late at night
so I can hear the sound
of my favorite parts of me
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC