Above this dusty relic phone
Laughter spring sentience
A map of soles
Movement calling arches;
Come in arches—
Convivial apogeesfor filigree Mechanisms fuse wire, ligaments It’s cliché to say when you least expect it Like news, dropping bombs without warning To lose yourself through charged sentiment
Returning to amend again
Stains memory into the glass of years
That should forever
Five-alarm warnings, imploring, before life ends Regrets that, meant, honor, discontent, mendicant More when voices Distill vibrations… Rendering whispers… Most soothing…
Do I spy falsies?
Maybe that’s clear
Levity during tears for mortality
Intense, sears carving reality
As tragedy snuffs out waning night
Death pronouncements through the tunneled ear
Cease climbing toward the apex right
When singing bird chirps fill the morning air
Yes, I’m missing sweet words The ones that we hold dear Recalling felt a soft smooth face
Even hang ups, wrong numbers Just wishing love to hear
___________________________________________________ Want to listen to Eavesdropping? The above poem was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. Rob Hanson took the fantastic HDR photo. Today, it is Part 2 of Mr. Hanson’s interview with Chris G. at One Stop Poetry. Awesome photographer. Go check out the interview.
smiles. dude you rock the word play and got some wicked flow…so much to say about the phone…the worst is the ringing one in the middle of the night, never a good sign…and T and I were just talking about people not using the phone as much to make those connections…do i spy falsies made me chuckle…and hope your phone rings in a good way my friend…
Loved this phrase “A map of soles
Instep…” , and the “arches”… remind me of last week’s shoe workshop photo (this phone looks like it belongs there) ; you make a nice connection linking the two. I love the ending, “Even hang ups, wrong numbers/Just wishing love to hear”; leaves a sense of longing, waiting. Nice work!
good poem adam – loved the flow and like telephone cables, you connect from one line to the next…personally i’m no telephone friend at all…i use my iphone for everything but not for making phone calls..and i almost never answer the phone when i’m at home…makes my fam mad…agh..
mechanisms and ligaments…nice.brings to mind a hodge podge of dreams and wishes all filtered through the miracle of ma bell.the last stanza reminds me of late nites i spent under the covers with that special someone.
What a craftsman’s use of every ounce of nuance a word can bring, adam, from the first stanza with its multiple double entendres, all through your penetrating evocation of all that passes between two people on every kind of wire. This is a wonderful Sunday for love poems, and this one makes me feel young. I hate to start quoting because there’s so much but the lines that conclude the second stanza are just brilliant as diamonds.
Mine are usually wrong numbers at 2am, texting has taken away the romance of the telephone, which is a huge shame, I still remember talking to my mum for the first time after moving away in a cold draughty hallway. Also remember the nights away from my kids in hotel rooms and yearning to hear their voices before crashing. Great poem, love the lines
To lose yourself through charged sentiment
Returning to amend again
triple meaning loaded into those lines. Will take me a while to figure all of this one out, not as sharp as some of your readers😉
Always interesting to hear you read as I can imagine it on an Open Mic night. The ‘form’ of the poem I’ve noticed some other Americans use in that almost free associations of images or perhaps more like jazz improvisations around an idea/central image. I assume with it’s roots in Whitman and Ginsberg but building on the many innovations of free verse. That I’m reading An Exaltation of Forms by Annie Finch tells you where I am starting from
Rockin the word play on this one. Tis my favourite type of poem, a meandering of meanings with flow filtered tightly, but not so much as to jar. You’ve some brilliant lines, nothing cliche about it, well done ~
I could hear you in this poem before I even heard you do this poem! I love the beat, the rhythm, the way the words play off each other. We do lose something of that organic connection of the phone when we text. There’s no voice quality, no emotional tone (even w/emoticons!)
Adam, I love this. The first lines had me and then the journey continued,nicely done. I just had a conversation about this with my best friend how connecting with people has changed on so many levels-sigh.