Pick-Up Poem (Not what it sounds like)


Sorry, sorry, the title of this post is a bit misleading. The poem is about picking up the phone, not picking up in a bar. However, bloggers like stats; provocativeness improves stats; and well, I’m sure you are picking up the gist of this.

All that said, here’s the poem:

When you don’t pick up

One reason I hate so much

the times you don’t pick up

is that they throw me into

a certain (but I hope distant)

moment in which you are truly gone

or I am gone, when whichever

of us is left will have

no one to call, though perhaps

we will still call–knowing me, I won’t

be able to stop–but we

will have no one to answer, though certainly
you will try out of steadfast love

to answer, and me because I can never

shut up–but still, it will not

be an answer that says,”I’m coming,

I’m almost there,” or if it does, it will

be that rather tricky coming of

the nearly departed, which, of course,

is not what either of us want exactly,
at least 
not at this present moment,
is why I really do wish

you’d stay near a phone always

so that I could gather up

your sweet hello

every single time I call and know, yes,

that you are coming, yes,

that you are still here.

(All rights reserved.)

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4 Comments on “Pick-Up Poem (Not what it sounds like)”

  1. brian Says:

    smiles. i can feel this…the desire that if we can not be with the other that we can at least hear their voice…and yes maybe that they will be on their way…

    provacative titles are the way to go…seriously if it catches the eye…it is the first thing people see and most people dont think like that…

  2. Hi Manic! When I met my wife we were like that. Of course cell phones were the size of shoe boxes then and not everyone had them, so it was frustrating sometimes not to be able to reach each other, sometimes even just to say that I’m here and I ‘m thinking about you. Things change. Careers happen, busy, unable to call or take a call, a nuisance sometimes to stop and answer. And today we both have phones in our pockets and yet the only time we call each other is when we need the other to stop and pick something up from the store. In fact I was thinking how your poem, lovely as it is, relates more to my pizza delivery guy than to my wife these days. A reflection on me, not your poem.

    I think your title is fine…… In fact. charming… as is your picture of the handset and cord…. And I enjoyed your play on words, (“picking up” the gist of this…) Above all of that you are smart, well written and edgy…… That’s why your poems are directed to my email inbox…. But I suppose there must be some draw for newcomers to discover those things about you… Sex sells, they say….. Perhaps a lacy, revealing teddy on your elephant….. LOL!

    • manicddaily Says:

      Ha! Thanks so much for subscribing and for reading and for your kind words. You are very lucky that the poem reflects more your dealings with the pizza guy! (That’s quite funny. I hope he does answer when you call! Especially when you are hungry!)

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