The Phone Call
The eleven digit number, I very carefully dial,
Hoping that my query, will only take a while.
I am greeted by a cheery, automated voice:
To sit and listen, I don’t have much choice.
The speaker, I admit, sounds very polite,
But, I don’t require details of their website.
I really just wanted to find something out,
And, avoid all this, unnecessary, faffing about.
I’m given a list of options: one through to four.
Having chosen option ‘one’, I’m given six more.
The options, once again, to me, are explained.
Already, I’m starting to find this all, a real pain.
This time, I decide to go for option number two,
But, to a human adviser, I still can’t be put through.
Having dialled two, another list of options, I endure,
But this time, I will admit, there is one option fewer.
The final option on the list, is number five:
At last, I can talk to someone, who is alive!
But, by an automated voice, I am, then, told,
That, they are currently busy, so ‘please hold.’
By cheerful, piped music, I am initially greeted;
Once finished, it is, then, immediately repeated.
To the repeated musical strains, I sit and listen,
Still feeling very intent, on fulfilling my mission.
This is taking way much longer, than I first thought,
And, by now, my nerves are, ever so slightly, fraught.
The receiver, at the other end, is picked up, at long last.
Checking my watch, I see, ten minutes have now passed.
Of the answer to my question, the adviser isn’t too sure,
So I’m put back on ‘hold’, to the same music as before.
This is going to take ages, I’m now beginning to realise.
I’m quite impatient by now, and, annoyed, I roll my eyes.
The adviser apologises, and he thanks me for waiting.
This whole scenario, for me, is getting rather grating.
At last, my query is answered by someone,
And, twenty minutes later, I’m finally done.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Do we have option?
No one knows me and my feelings,
They smile at me as if I were happy,
When I smile back out of courtesy,
The burden of the mind is gone easy.
No one knows me and my feelings,
I am worried about everything,
That I can think about and feel,
Drowsy I am, with punishment conventional.
I'd want to do what I like,
For each of my likings, there is a hurdle,
I have been confused since young,
With lists of good and bad, long.
When I try to buy a hand phone,
They ask whether I want original or cloned,
When I try to buy the car tyres,
They ask me whether I want imported or rethread.
When I pour the oil for the engine, brake and steering,
They ask me whether I want synthetic or recycled,
Wherever I go, whatever I do, I have options,
Even when I pray, they ask me which God I pray to.
when I was born, I think that I didn't have the option,
when I am ill, I don't have the option to choose the germs,
when I lie on that bed, I don't have the option of,
picking up the right time, after many years,
after fulfilling all my desires, dreams and duties.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thoughts Of Suicide
Thoughts of suicide grow
Why do i think like this?
Why cant i live in harmoney?
Why cant i live in bliss?
Suicide is like a virus
It devoured all that was pure
Why did i hold that knife to my chest?
Why cant i find a cure?
Thoughts of suicide overwhelm me
One pill, two, three pill, four
Only 8 more to go now
Come on im nearly through that door.
Suicide has taken my voice
So no one can hear my pain
But even if i could scream at the top of my lungs
Would it be invane?
No one wants to listen
No one even cares
My feet are over the edge now
I will glide right through the air.
If my thoughts become reality
Would i be missed
Or would i be cast off as another number
With my name added to a list.
My thoughts of suicide stay with me
One day i may be free
Is suicide my only option
well tomorrow is a new day,
I shall wait and see.
poem by Chris jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Using My Option to Exaggerate the Truth
Of course I'd be lieing,
If I said I have never lied.
I'm just not doing it right now.
I am using my option,
To exaggerate the truth.
At least I have a few,
Of those options left to use.
You?
On the other hand...
Are motivated to lie.
With a telling of the truth as optional.
And you have long used up your options,
As well as your credibility.
But don't concern yourself about that.
Your reputation to be a liar,
Is incredulous.
In fact,
Your thought process...
Has been determined to be corrupted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happiness Is An Option
It is not easy
It is not easy
Looking from a window
At the edge of a house
At the edge of a town
Its grey like the day
When I lost it
Clouds overhead
I talked to a flower
That was almost dead
My body a prison
Why did I do it
Someone want me not to
But I still went through it
(living it upside, you gotta remember, that happiness is an option)
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(but happiness is an option)
Needed somewhere to clear my head
Find some strength a warmer bed
Maximum love in a minimal world
Id never achieved it
But then I believed it
So when I lost it - how
Im not sure - now
It was a strange feeling
Like a law repealing itself
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(but happiness is an option)
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(giving it up, if you are giving it up, if you are giving it up)
I can wake up in the morning
And not believe what I see
Look in a mirror and think
If thats really me
I dont think I suit my face
Its not a catastrophe
Its more a philosophy
Like the russians wondering why
Were born under a blue sky
But die in a dark forest
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(but happiness is an option)
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(but happiness is an option)
This is neither old nor new
Its always forever
Somewhere between sense
And ambition
Pleasure and decision
We have to make a choice
What do we want
Everyone singing
war, what is it good for?
While planning the next one
I dont need to win
You dont have to loose
We can choose
Happiness is an option
(you can choose)
It is not easy
But dont give up now
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
Happiness is an option
(chris: happiness is an option)
It is not easy
(no, it is not easy)
The war within us
(so war within us)
(so dont give up)
But it gets easier
(but it gets easier)
The more we learn
(the more we learn)
I dont need to win
(I dont need to win)
You dont have to loose
(you dont have to loose)
So dont give up
We can choose
Happiness is an option
(happiness is an option)
(chris: happiness is an option)
It is not easy
(no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no)
But dont give up now
(dont give up now)
(so dont give up)
It is not easy
(it is not easy)
Happiness is an option
(happiness is an option)
(if you are giving it up, if you are giving it up)
You dont have to loose
(you dont have to loose)
(if you are giving it up, you gotta remember)
We can choose happiness is an option
(we can choose happiness is an option)
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ows, You Opted To Be Free?
hmm, ok after a careful
analysis i believe you.
your option to be free
remains to be an option.
open ended and just like
any open ended question
it needs a very serious
presumption:
you know what prison was.
and you opted. you exercised an option.
i guess you were free
from the very beginning, otherwise
how can you ever have that option
to be free.
explain within
24 hours, why are you free
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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30 Minutes
Mama, papa forgive me
Out of sight, out of mind
Out of time to decide
Do we run? should I hide
For the rest of my life
Can we fly? do we stay?
We could lose we could fail
And the more minutes take
To make planer, or mistakes
30 minutes, the blink of the night
30 minutes to alter our lifes
30 minutes to make up my mind
30 minutes to finally decide
30 minutes to whisper your name
30 minutes to shelter the blame
30 minutes of bliss, 30 lies
30 minutes to finally decide
Carousels in the sky
That we shape with our eyes
Under shade silhouettes casting
Shapes crying rain
Can we fly do I stay
We could lose, we could fail
Either way, options change
Chances fail, trains derail.
30 minutes, the blink of the night
30 minutes to all of our lifes
30 minutes to make up my mind
30 minutes to finally decide
30 minutes to whisper your name
30 minutes to show her the blame
30 minutes of bliss, 30 lies
30 minutes to finally decide
To decide, to decide to decide to decide
(repeat until fade)
song performed by by Tatu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Options
Options, options, options,
ever too many choices.
Purple, Black, Blue or Green,
so many whispering voices;
Clint Eastwood, Kirk Douglas, Charly Sheen.
Options, options, options,
your thoughts bubbling away.
No time to choose but Delay:
'Sticks and stones can't break my bones,
but Options they can kill you still!
poem by Madrason writer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tell Me The Name
Tell me the name
the flower you like most.
Option you may choose
Capejamine, Champak,
Cherysanthemum, chinarose
canna.
Tell me the name
the fruit you like most.
Look option below
coconut, cashewnut
cucumber, carambola
cubebs.
Time allowed five minutes
Then you missed the train
that has timeframed.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lonliness Is An Option
Loneliness is an option.
One we all often choose.
Running away from what is good.
In the end you only lose.
Afraid of closeness and true love.
This option turns you to a slave.
Bitterness, heartache, hell incarnate.
Never sharing of yourself.
From fear of losing what you love.
Instead alone you will remain.
Choosing your own form of pain.
You want to love.
You want to give.
You're too scared of what you fear.
So this is the option you have choosen.
Alone without your true love spoken.
Loneliness is an option.
It leaves your life incomplete and barren.
Wishing all the time you could share your tender loving careing.
You're afraid, who's to blame?
It truly is a shame.
This option you may feel is best.
Remember though there's always happiness.
poem by Michael McParland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knowing you might some day come
Knowing you might some day come
and how unprepared I’ve always
been
like Mr. Sloppy
in Charles Dickens’
our Mutual Friend
I made a list:
not meat, vegetables, beer and pudding
but number l, warmth.
number 2, warmth.
number 3, warmth.
number 4, a good snuggler.
number 5, someone who sings
while he/she works.
number 6, a dancer.
number 7, someone who grows & is
intrigued by
the mind. And
by the spirit too.
Number 7, someone who is loved
by animals; and loves
them back without
a thought.
number 8, someone who smells
delicious.
number 9, someone whose anger
lasts no longer than mine.
number 10, someone who
stands beside me. behind me. If necessary
in front of me.
number 11, someone who
is a passable cook.
number 12, Someone who laughs
a lot, thinks I have a fine
sense
of humor
& has friends.
number 13, someone who can be
original in dress:
stylish
warlock –In silver, lapis
& black – to my witch.
poem by Alice Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Time As We Know It
I wish there was another process,
To approach...
To go about this.
But there isn't one as an option.
There are those awaiting,
For that right time to come.
That right time to do as one wishes,
To put off to do and get those things done.
That right time to collect,
What it is that is needed believed to perfect...
A happiness surrounded with,
An exactness to accept.
Dictated and controlled as one expects!
I wish there was another process,
To approach...
To go about this.
But there isn't one as an option.
Yet...
That right time that begins for them,
Is as elusive as promises anticipated and made.
When God gives us time,
None of it can be saved.
Nor does that time God gives,
Contemplates in hesitation waiting.
I wish there was another process,
To approach...
To go about this.
But there isn't one as an option.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Comfortable Fog
Intoxicated...
By the wrong choice of toxins,
Inside of a chosen box.
Even if one should step out,
To venture...
A hindering of a forget or a forget me not,
Option...
Is an addiction one adopts,
When an honesty is blocked.
And as intoxicated as many have been,
A thick fog on the outside of their doors...
Hides more than unseen surroundings.
It keeps those inside imprisoned...
With minds clogged,
By forget or forget me not options...
Few who pass with interactive lives,
Are caring less who hides inside!
And if lights are turned off...
With shades pulled down to avoid Sunlight.
A life unlived would still not be noticed.
Since from inside what is seen,
Would be a surrounding of comfortable fog.
Intoxicated...
By the wrong choice of toxins,
Inside of a chosen box.
Even if one should step out,
To venture...
A hindering of a forget or a forget me not,
Option...
Is an addiction one adopts,
When an honesty is blocked.
And engulfed...
With the surrounding of comfortable fog
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Answer From Two Daughters When Asked How Is Their Mom
their mom has terminal cancer.
and i ask the younger daugher, how is mommy?
she says on the phone, ' she is doing fine. we are are the airport
and waiting for our 3 p.m. flight back home'
and the older daugher's answer to the same question:
' mommy has breast c, and she is feeling the pain
...she's not entertaining the option of invasive surgery, , ,
or the costly chemotheraphy.. the doctor is giving her
some options...but she's definit.. she simply wants to be home
and be with her dog and garden... she does not change
her mind... she's definite... God's will...
let us pray for her. Regards to you and Em.'
Got it. Progenies coming from the same source of genes,
sometimes are different. How does one see a tragedy?
or an end to something? how does one treat someone dying?
i may tell the truth. Who knows? I may not too. Who knows?
Tragic really.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Taking You Off My Best Friends' List
I'm taking you off my best friends' list.
Yes,
I am.
If I have to put up with your nonsense,
And you don't have time for mine...
I get offended by it.
I don't care if you do have things in your life,
To prioritize.
Or that I might contact you,
At the most inappropriate times.
Or...
You just might like some time to be left alone.
Or...
That I've done the same thing to you,
And my activities you've condone.
So what!
I'm taking you off my best friends' list.
Yes,
I am.
If I have to put up with your nonsense,
And you don't have time for mine...
I get offended by it.
Especially when I have time to sit,
With a wasting of time!
And you have none for me that exist.
I've tolerated your selfishness!
How come this time,
You can not tolerate mine?
I'm taking you off my best friends' list.
Well...
I'm moving you to number 2!
And I could care less how you feel about it!
Hello?
HELLO? ?
I know you did not give me dial tone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are 'Never' Going To Change
Here it comes, again.
That same denial I make attempts to forget.
The same one about my missing someone loved.
Someone I am trying my best not to admit.
Why me?
Why can't you just leave me alone,
And be about your own business.
Here I sit alone for a few minutes.
With the thought of this on my mind.
And then I believe from me those feelings go.
And then when I 'think' the coast is clear.
Those feelings come again.
They without notice re-appear.
So I pick up the telephone.
Blocking out my number before I dial.
Knowing those feelings once had in me are gone.
To announce very quickly to 'whoever' answers...
That the number I dialed was wrong.
Why me?
I find I am asking myself this,
Constantly.
Here it comes, again.
That same denial I make attempts to forget.
The same one about my missing someone loved.
Someone I am trying my best not to admit.
So I pick up the telephone.
Blocking out my number out before I dial.
Knowing those feelings once had in me are gone.
To announce very quickly,
The number I dialed was wrong.
'Why can't you just leave me alone? '
Excuse me?
Didn't you here me say...
I dialed a wrong number?
You are 'never' going to change!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Offer That As My Option
Why should I drain from exhaustion,
To maintain gains in a campaign?
Or be bombarded by others,
Complaining about their aches and pains...
To remain sustained in an unnamed game?
If I can avoid this,
Offer that as my option!
Why should I be grouped in a herd,
To leap collectively in a chase over hurdles.
Give me those tools as you promised you would do.
And I will do what needs to get done...
Without standing in line,
Waiting for someone's stamp or sign of approval!
If I can avoid this,
Offer that as my option!
Why should I drain from exhaustion,
To maintain gains in a campaign?
Or be bombarded by others,
Complaining about their aches and pains...
To remain sustained in an unnamed game?
If I can avoid this,
Offer that as my option!
And if that is not the case...
I'll make the choice to sit out this race,
Paced...
To slow my steps,
With those who choose just...
To 'Hang-in-there' as if for them,
This swinging in the wind,
Is an honor!
And for me,
Hanging anywhere is not an option!
Or a request to be approved.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lost
The palm of my hand is empty but I still hold on
Your voice just an imagination and long gone
The smile I love haunts my every dream
But loneliness is my companion per diem
A love lost as it had been previously found
No longer an option and all hope has drowned
I want to evaporate like a raindropp in the sun
And with thoughts of you I become undone
My world appears to be smaller these days
And new visions appear to me as in a haze
My life every day is the work of a pretender
Should I admit defeat and finally surrender
My own sanity at large is at stake
And with every thought I slowly break
I took a chance but now everything is lost
Everything reminding me of you I tossed
Sure I may find solace with another guy
But the thought to find you again I could never deny
I am lost in this world and everything seems strange
The fact that I feel only for you will never change
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Would Never Know
You've hurt me...
But I'm not crushed.
At least to you,
I will not admit it!
I'm not going to sit around,
Waiting to find something or someone
To replace you.
Who would be that foolish?
I'm not going to dial your number,
To let it ring once.
Then hang up...
With the hopes,
You have my number on your caller ID.
That's childish and so stupid,
Of me.
I meant...
If I was to do something like that.
And that kind of action,
Is too far fetched for me to conceive.
I am hardly one of the lonely hearts!
I'm not the one,
To wear my emotions on my sleeve.
Who me?
Please!
You've hurt me...
But I'm not crushed.
At least to you,
I will not admit it!
I'm not going to sit around,
Waiting to find something or someone
To replace you.
Who would be that foolish?
I'd stalk you if I had to.
But that's someone,
P-whipped and driven.
Longing for a reprise,
Of heated meetings.
Discreetly met under sheets.
I'm not like that!
You would never catch me sitting in a rage.
Wondering who it was,
With you...
Standing on your doorstep,
Sharing a chat.
No...
I am not like that.
And if I was...
You would never know.
However...
And this I admit!
I am known to dial wrong numbers.
And this is known by those I use to know.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eleven rules of football
I took my little boy
to a nearby football pitch
He said he was tired
of playing hide and seek
He now wanted a football
to play around and kick
As he clutched my hand
I spoke to him
and tried to make him understand
the eleven rules of football
taking into consideration
that he was quite small
Now rule number one
Football is made of eleven strong men
When one or two are naughty
you may still get away
with playing nine or ten
Rule number two
When a member of your crew
hits the ball into the net
A goal is scored
that I can place a bet
For I am very sure
Rule number three
The maximum number of players
you can substitute is three
It does not cost a dime
It is totally free
Rule number four
There are rules you must comply with
When a team commits an offense
named a foul
before the game can commence
A small advantage has to be given
to the otherside
Rule number five
A freekick
is given after a foul
Sometimes awarded after
unnecessary dives
Rule number six
When you are shown a card that is yellow
Its time for your temper to mellow
or you will get the referee quite mad
and he will dismiss you with a red card
Rule number seven
A penality is like heaven
It is awarded
when a player breaks the rule
maybe by using his hand as a tool
to play the ball inside the penalty box
its time for him to go back to school
Rule number eight
A thrownin
Is when the ball is kicked out of the field
It's one of footballs favorite sins
Rule number nine
Offside is
When you are the only one running
alone to score a winning goal
you must hesitate
till you see a single soul
Rule number ten
A game lasts
for ninety minutes
You are beat
When your team has less goals than the other
That is when you must admit defeat
Rule number eleven
when your team is losing
you have to sing something amusing
saying
All we want is a goal
While we are dressed in coloured charcoal
Now my little boy
I said
These are the eleven rules of football
lets go and practise inside the sports hall
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No one will be forced to take the public option. The word option means choice.
quote by Valerie Jarrett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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