Above this dusty relic phone
Laughter spring sentience
A map of soles
Connects body
Instep…
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
Biochemical remnants
Stains memory into the glass of years
That should forever
Never
Stand
Your silence…
Five-alarm warnings, imploring, before life ends Regrets that, meant, honor, discontent, mendicant More when voices Distill vibrations… Rendering whispers… Most soothing…
Feathered sighs…
Intimate
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…
Wow…really dig the choice and placement of words in this one. Feels fantastic to read out loud…I have read it several times for the sheer enjoyment of the language and word play!
The close of the poem…I know that feeling…that deep longing for any sort of connection…You capture that hollow, emotional and it hits hard!
“Even hang ups, wrong numbers”…
Your words are lovely and full of emotion. ‘When singing bird chirps fill the morning air Yes, I’m missing sweet words
The ones that we hold dear’ Love this especially.
The poem unfolds like layers…I think of a rolled tapestry…as it unfolds, pieces of images shape…”sensify”… and then readjust with a little more unfolding! A fascinating drama!
Loved this phrase “A map of soles
Connects body
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..
So much transpires over the phone. Caller ID ruins some of the suspense of picking up the phone though, don’t you think? Middle of night phone calls ARE the worst. A great write.
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
Biochemical remnants…
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 don’t know how you do this! You stretch my mind and rearrange my thoughts completely. I’m hoping that’s exactly what you intend. Just wishing love to hear… wonderful.
A lot to say, very creative, effective. I hate the phone for much the ame reason. Loved the words, line development, ur process. Super flow. Great job again.
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.
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.
Dustus Blog 
June 11, 2011 at 11:08 pm
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…
June 11, 2011 at 11:46 pm
Never know what to expect when that phone rings in the middle of the night. Thanks, brian
June 12, 2011 at 12:31 am
“Just wishing love to hear”
that’s what i want from my phones. great One Shoot, Adam!
June 12, 2011 at 12:51 am
Wow…really dig the choice and placement of words in this one. Feels fantastic to read out loud…I have read it several times for the sheer enjoyment of the language and word play!
The close of the poem…I know that feeling…that deep longing for any sort of connection…You capture that hollow, emotional and it hits hard!
“Even hang ups, wrong numbers”…
June 12, 2011 at 1:05 am
♥ the image and the words are lovely
June 12, 2011 at 1:45 am
I felt very emotionally driven when reading this poem, the writing spells out passion “do I spy falsely may be that’s clear”
June 12, 2011 at 3:06 am
Even before I listened to you reading this I could hear your voice…this is your mark, your stamp. I love it
June 12, 2011 at 5:30 am
Your words are lovely and full of emotion. ‘When singing bird chirps fill the morning air Yes, I’m missing sweet words
The ones that we hold dear’ Love this especially.
June 12, 2011 at 6:22 am
The poem unfolds like layers…I think of a rolled tapestry…as it unfolds, pieces of images shape…”sensify”… and then readjust with a little more unfolding! A fascinating drama!
June 12, 2011 at 6:34 am
Loved this phrase “A map of soles
Connects body
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!
June 12, 2011 at 9:34 pm
Great comment. In the photo above the phone is a pressure point map of feet. lol
June 12, 2011 at 8:18 am
I enjoyed this write Adam
“Come in arches—
Convivial apogees for filigree
Mechanisms fuse wire, ligaments”
I found this tercet to be a remarkable and delicious use of words! Fantastic write ~ Rose
June 12, 2011 at 8:36 am
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..
June 12, 2011 at 9:05 am
So much transpires over the phone. Caller ID ruins some of the suspense of picking up the phone though, don’t you think? Middle of night phone calls ARE the worst. A great write.
June 12, 2011 at 9:06 am
This is an excellent spoken word piece and I agree with the others..great word play. Love stanza #4….Now excuse me while I go make a call:-)
June 12, 2011 at 9:12 am
I really like this — in particular, I love listening to your voice reading it — like the jammin’ quality of the rythym.
June 12, 2011 at 9:49 am
I liked the idea of phones being like an organic connection, kinda like computers are now. Hearing you read it added a lot.
June 12, 2011 at 9:53 am
*sigh*
‘blossom like.
June 12, 2011 at 10:13 am
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.
June 12, 2011 at 12:33 pm
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.
June 12, 2011 at 12:38 pm
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
Biochemical remnants…
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 😉
June 12, 2011 at 12:41 pm
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
June 12, 2011 at 2:53 pm
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 ~
June 12, 2011 at 4:18 pm
Thanks, Adam. Nicely set to the image.
June 12, 2011 at 9:03 pm
Do I spy falsies brought me back to the surface with a laugh. This is fantastic.
June 12, 2011 at 9:31 pm
Hello, it was to I felt a powerful poem. That in twined the image to it.
June 12, 2011 at 10:04 pm
I don’t know how you do this! You stretch my mind and rearrange my thoughts completely. I’m hoping that’s exactly what you intend. Just wishing love to hear… wonderful.
June 12, 2011 at 10:43 pm
The last line is so effectively setup by the structure and word choice of the poem…nicely done.
June 13, 2011 at 4:12 am
Nice. I loved the spontaneous feel of the words.
June 13, 2011 at 8:27 am
A lot to say, very creative, effective. I hate the phone for much the ame reason. Loved the words, line development, ur process. Super flow. Great job again.
http://henryclemmonspoet.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-still-breathe.html
June 13, 2011 at 6:09 pm
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!)
June 14, 2011 at 7:21 pm
A step over to the dark side. lol
Awesome as always Adam
June 15, 2011 at 4:31 am
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.
June 17, 2011 at 10:24 am
Really good one! I like your reading very much…the slight echo is very fitting.