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Oct 24, 2025
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Bad News
We used to receive bad news
in the privacy of our homes;
a Saturday morning call
from a tearful Auntie Joan
to say father had finally
lost to leukaemia; or my wife
interrupting the sleep between shifts
when our son had been run over.
Anxiety and grief might be indulged
in secret, but mobiles are like
an enemy drone; they find you in bars,
village halls, buses, and your reaction
is witnessed by friends and colleagues,
strangers who just happen to be around
at the time, to catch it and pass it on,
to be liked and followed.
About This Poem
Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft
Comments
Sen99
5 months 4 weeks ago
How the mobile phone ......
........ has made life worse for receivers of bad news.
A depressing subject but the poem is well expressed, the publicity of private grief, which will come to us all one day.
Many thanks.
Geezer
5 months 4 weeks ago
The metaphor...
of the mobile phone being like a drone, finding you anywhere and everywhere, is one of the reasons that I resisted getting a mobile phone. I remember in the early days, when I was busy trying to complete a job or project and the phone constantly ringing put me out of sorts, which had me snarling; "What do you want?" I'm sure that having bad news over the phone puts us on display for all the world to see, and if that has happened to you, I feel bad for you. Good piece, clear rant. ~ Geez.
.
Ray Miller
5 months 4 weeks ago
Bad News
Thanks both. I've got a mobile and my wife rings me on it most mornings to ask for coffee. Otherwise, it's barely used. My kids think I'm a freak.