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Apr 02, 2018
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TROUBLE (March contest) Ode to the Cell phone
The voice of the nagging boss
Lies in my pocket,
I don’t want to listen,
I rip off your heart, still troubles come-
when I put it back,
you are thousands of trouble.
When I sleep in darkness
I travel to get you light
When am hungry
You must be filled even if am bankrupt,
I paused for a moment to think
you are a golden cross tied to the neck of the beholder.
Hey Mr Cell phone listen and listen well
though the agent of connection you seems to be
two thumbs on the heart of the road
got his brains kicked out like a broken egg
distracted generation since your birth
I don’t hate u cell phone.
About This Poem
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Simon
7 years 2 months ago
Really
You are a Golden cross tied on neck of a holder
Good luck Mr.chiori.
valene
7 years 2 months ago
a bit like my cellphone, ...
...your poem don't connect.
i smashed mine to pieces
so's none could detect
where i were going,
what my words were.
like those i've no knowing
that you here infer.
Best wishes....val.