This Poem was Submitted By: Claus Michael Ranswill On Date: 2009-04-19 19:56:31 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Calling center blues

Working at a call center is what I now do Answering phones all day long, it feels like a zoo Every different customer is a different animal in their own right Sometimes they yell and make you feel like getting into a fight Answering the phone from the morning till the middle of the night Putting up with their irate-ness gives my brain such a fright Arguing about their orders, services and bills Sometimes it gets so bad; you want to start popping pills Phone call after phone call, you do what you can Another hour goes by; your brain feels like a human trash can There’s only so much you can do, for the customer to pacify Their anger and unhappiness, sometimes we can never satisfy Equipment is not working; their bill is way too high Every single call a new adventure makes you want to cry Hearing very sad sob stories, you try to be nice to them all Sometimes the customer yells so much, it makes you feel oh so small Rules and regulations keep you from helping all of them Sometimes you will get lucky and finally answer a real gem That one rare customer that’s so nice it makes you feel so great They almost make you forget about the customers that are so irate  When you get home at night, no one really understands your point of view Then that makes you mad some more, your spouse becomes a customer too You try to separate your work life from your home life, nothing really helps So the next day comes again and you swim through it just like Michael Phelps

Copyright © April 2009 Claus Michael Ranswill


This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2009-05-01 17:00:03
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Claus, Sounds like your job is a pain, but at least your working. Today is exceptionally difficult emotionally. Trying times call up the best patience ever. I believe your holding your own, no matter. Michael Phelps you are! Just keep on........ Good rhyming, good tale. You're a good hard working man. Let poetry be your release. Dellena


This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2009-04-29 17:05:35
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.88889
Claus, Forgive me for having taken so lone to get to this one. I've read it several times, totally understand what your talking about (been there/done that)however for me it is bit long and could possibly benefit from tighting up, less prose in style would make it more intriqueing. Sometimes it is better to let the reader deduce things for themselves than have them spelled out...possibly just a personal preferrence. I look forward to reading more of your work. Thanks for sharing with us. TC Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2009-04-22 02:09:54
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.71429
Society of today has lost their patience - and they take it out on the people that are there to help them. It's not funny; but you wrote this with humorous tones - it's a story; well written and give the reader the full view of a day at work in this type of job. I hope you don't mind me interjecting some suggestions - to make the piece less wordy. It's the first thing I learned on this site 9 years ago - minimize - leave out words to make the piece easier to read - it's pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I'll show you: Calling center blues Working at a call center is what I now do Answering phones all day long, feels like a zoo Every different customer a different animal in their own right Sometimes yell and make you feel like getting in a fight Answering the phone from morning till the middle of night Putting up with irate-ness gives my brain such fright Arguing about orders, services and bills Sometimes gets so bad; you want to start popping pills Phone call after phone call, you do what you can Another hour goes by; your brain feels like a human trash can There’s only so much you can do, for the customer to pacify anger and unhappiness, sometimes we never satisfy Equipment not working; their bills way too high Every single call a new adventure makes you want to cry Hearing sad sob stories, you try to be nice to all Sometimes the customer yells so much, it makes you feel so small Rules and regulations keep you from helping them Sometimes you'll get lucky and finally answer a real gem That one rare customer that’s so nice makes you feel great almost make you forget about customers that are so irate When you get home at night, no one understands your point of view that makes you mad more, your spouse becomes a customer too You try to separate work life from home life, nothing really helps the next day comes again and you swim through it like Michael Phelps I think if you eliminate those few words the piece flows better - Aside from trying to give positive suggestions, I enjoyed this poem - very much - and hope my suggestions didn't put you off. Blessings, Deni
This Poem was Critiqued By: Monica ONeill On Date: 2009-04-21 22:32:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Claus, I totally get this....I worked at a call centre that answered for a cell phone company...it was horrible. It was my first job after moving to Canada. On the other hand, before I ended up north of the border, I worked at a travel reservation company for fifteen years and ended up being the call centre manager. It was a much more reasonable enviornment, from reservationist up to management. I wrote this after Hurricane Iniki visited Kauai... JUST ANOTHER DAY Tis another work day And I'm just half awake, The computer stands waiting Deciding my fate. The phone queue is flashing A brilliant hued red. What questions lie waiting To mess with my head? The phone cord is tangled, My headset won't work, It's bare nine o'clock And I'm going berzerk. An agent lies waiting "They've just missed their plane!" It's not even lunchtime And I'm going insane. "And why can I not Have the car I demand? I booked it, it's paid for I don't understand!" Is it time to go home yet? My head is athrob, I moan and complain But I just love this job. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- I just thought you would get a laugh out of it. I wrote it for the staff because we were really stressed... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Now my dear, you liked to rhyme, that's great. I do in my funny stuff, not so much my serious, romantic stuff. You might want to play around with the language a bit. For example: Answering the phone from the morning till the middle of the night Putting up with their irate-ness gives my brain such a fright Arguing about their orders, services and bills Sometimes it gets so bad; you want to start popping pills Answering phones from morning til night Putting up with irateness gives my brain a fright Arguing about orders, services and bills Sometimes so bad, I want to pop pills. Claus, sometimes less is more. I've said the same thing, but with fewer words and it has a smarter cadence and it still rhymes. Also, the first person in the last line says more. You might want to try condensing it a bit. I know everyone has their own voice, this is just a suggestion. Anyway, I totally understand this...hope you have a great day on the phones tommorrow. I'm still involved in a call centre, but I am their in house writer and rarely get on the phones anymore. It also helps that I work from home. Sorry about the book, writer's curse... Cheers, Moni
This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2009-04-20 13:36:28
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.66667
Hi Claus, Welcome back to TPL. I hope you hang in here and take the ride to poetic growth and development. I work in a call center too and you do capture the chaos of it all. I for one, would like to see some fresh imagery here and yes, more uniform meter. Your lines at times skip beats and there are those that lack a beat or two. You should look closer at syllable count. I'm not a fan of the rhyme scheme you have used. Some of it seems too forced - do/zoo...right/fight. Closer attention to this would help raise the level of this piece a notch. Duane.
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