"chewed" poems
_~a jump-rope chant~_
Black silk handkerchief,
what ya’ gonna’ hide?
A pox that knocks on the church’s side.
Preacher won’t preach where my daddy died.
Angel forgot which soul to guide.
Both arms wrapped in moccasin skin,
open the gate and let her in!
Snake-bone hag with watery eyes,
count to ten when the baby cries.
One for the moon,
and two for sin,
three for the teeth with the rusted grin.
Four for the girl with the copper cough,
dancin' in the attic with the light turned off.
Five, six,
skillet ticks.
Seven, eight,
shut the gate!
Nine, ten, count again--
bathe him slow and cool the skin.
held him close till the fever broke;
air curled white from pinewood smoke.
Chewed the haw and bit the sage,
wrapped his bottle in a bible page.
Ghost stood watch on the porch out back,
shadow thin and eyes coal-black.
Sayin', "I’m fine, don’t mind the cold,"
"died last spring but ain’t been told."
Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 3:52 PM UTC
When you kissed me, I lied.
I let you kiss me because I wanted someone to love me.
I was selfish, I wanted to soothe my craving for attention, soft and kind love.
It’s because you’re warm and safe, I still do get the urge to trust you with love.
In fact you’re handsome while so insecure.
But I shouldn’t have kissed you, because I knew I didn’t want you but your aroma.
I chewed it and played with it to spare your feelings and to ebb my shame
but believe me, I’m happy to have made your acquaintance on that awful day that appeared on paper as perfect.
On the day when the last one I loved, introduced me to you
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 2:08 PM UTC
all my life
i've been preparing faces
to meet the faces that
i've met
friends
family
the man who delivers newspapers
at our doorstep each morning
i've laughed at their silly jokes
as they tossed their heads from side to side
in naive stupidity and their sheer ignorance
a pompous lot, the human race i tell you
i've acknowledged their staunch morals
and tried to make them my own
as they scorned at the girl in a skimpy dress
and chewed on mutton bones gluttonously
all my life, i've been trying hard
to blend in
with people who've shown me
that i don't belong with them
and tonight when i shed gallons of tears
i have only my bed and pillow to share
i've learnt that my sadness
is my very own
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
rain
mud and grass
common prayer
good weather
good people
art
and umbrella bags
because who wants to
get wet?
unless it’s with you
I could
I would
jump into the lake
for that rock
sew
cleanse
initials made in sharpie
and unclamp
we run
around the park
the afternoon surrounds us
the woman in the bikini
passes
and we laugh
iced tea
decaf coffee
cake without teeth
and that airstream camper
you always wanted
I could live in your
backyard
I could live somewhere
not here
in silver
prostrated
with my back to the
moon
like dead
like a mummy
like a mirror
and life would make sense
life would be beautiful
like this run
with perfect amounts of sweat
and conversation that runs
waves in the sand
and tells the squirrels
*goodnight, tractor
see you tomorrow*
and the land that billows
is dug up
and chewed
like a goodnight poem
this run with you
takes rest
on my soul
and I crack my ribs
to take the spring’s
twilight
aroma
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 10:36 PM UTC
I thought I knew myself better than anyone,
The hours I spent
Stood in front of the mirror
Picking new masks to hate every
Day, Hour, Minute
I thought there was nothing more to me,
The pale skin, chewed fingernails,
The tired eyes
Reflecting the sleepless nights- the morning coffee
I thought I was worth nothing.
One night the stars sent me you,
I still see you as a gift
So delicate and fragile;
One mistake and you'd slip through my fingers
Gone. To someone who deserves you.
You unfurled galaxies in my eyes
Flowers in my mind
And feeling in my veins,
You breathed life into my lungs
Sang promises into my ear -
Filling my head with the thought of you.
You have hold of my heart
As though it was precious to you,
But I know better than anyone, if you let it go
then Darling, so will I.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
You seeing me rapping will never happen
Before that I’ll start cappin
Walk off like nothing happened
Since I’ve mastered this art of war
I tend to take things too far
Don’t give a **** who you think you are
Your rap handle doesn’t exist anymore
My rhythms galore, your rhythms manure
Best left in a bag
On your steps
At your front door
Hottest your rap crap will ever get
I’m so polished this is a blemish not a scrimmage
I treat you little *******
Like a teacher’s pet
Up against a Vietnam war vet
Giving you your first shoots
Flipping the script
Double barrel twelve gauge extended clip
Special grip pressed against your lip
Having a hard time talking ****
A pistol whip left your tooth chipped
Fake rappers rapping hard
No street creed; they ain’t legit
This wack imitation ****
Got me ****** off
Don’t get me started
you rip offs should get lost at all cost
dealing with a real boss I can handle a loss
Testing me lyrically, you must be previously ********
Now you are dearly departed
I’m styling on you I’m wilding
Bloodline of Goliath
So go ahead start a riot
With my mic on autopilot
You can get chewed like trident
Eating wack MC’s
essential part of my diet
this ain’t even a battle verse
it’s a gift and a curse
running its course
on my high horse
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
We perpetuate heartbreak culture,
teaching girls the man who holds her loves her despite the bruises,
or it was her fault; she looked older.
We fetishes shoulders,
prize youth from the young in return for pre-chewed gum,
swallowing down the same tired ideals from those who still wield them like flags,
waving their patriotism on poles of bone before a throne of medieval ********
They chant mantras with beer stained breath about how 'our' country 'bested' the rest,
but what about the brutality?
The blood split on foreign soil in return for prehistoric oil?
Our land is deemed pure so long as the violence on our hands never reaches our shores,
but the ocean is red and staining our sands.
How can you have pride in a country who's sole identity is based off having the worlds largest navy?
Congratulations. You bombed your way through countless continents, collecting cultures to gather dust on pedestals and alters
We sin on Sundays, drink till we're ****** then wave at the seven deadly's (they don't apply to us here).
We teach preschoolers nationalism before they can walk,
indoctrinate our children before they can talk.
George killed the dragon.
Hood gave to the poor.
we all jumped on the bandwagon before we realised the princess had no choice and the rich still ruled.
There was no voice in the tale for those whose wail could be ignored.
What about those without lines in the script?
Those kicked to the curb, then kicked from it?
Our pavements have no room for nonconformists,
they're tailored to for same mind, same mindless wanderer,
squandering on the lasted polyesters even though that mouth on the street hasn't eaten in over a week.
'God save the Queen' from the vermin;
the homeless have been tossed out of the trash.
Why help them when you could save your cash by turning a blind?
After all, out of sight, out of mind.
Welcome to England, we hope you like what you find
Because we’re not changing it.
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
She left Reno
in a satin slip
the color of hot coins
pouring from slots,
wearing chewed-up tennis shoes,
mirrors multiplying her,
the marquee burning out
letter by letter,
a hush pressed between her teeth
as if saving the last note.
I followed,
a gangly shadow,
mother’s voice in my ear:
"life is not a freeway exit."
But she was the exit.
She drove west
through a glittering throat.
In Tonopah she was a waitress,
red stains on her wrists,
sleeves tugged low,
coffee pouring thin as blood.
In Barstow she was a sun-bleached Madonna,
halo blistered, mouth lit in stained glass.
At a gas station in Needles
shimmering into a coyote’s shadow
and slipped behind the pumps.
Then movement along the fence,
low, quick—
gone again.
Casinos blinked like electric relics.
Truckers called her sugar,
greedy hands counting her ribs
as if she was the paycheck
sweating in their fist,
but she slipped away each time,
her silhouette already moulting-
a serpent skin, a smoke-trail,
a saint’s shadow burning off the wall.
By Malibu, the night
had softened to velvet.
The pier at Zuma
leaned into the Pacific
like a broken bridge.
She sang to me—
low, cracked—
then let the slip fall.
Her body cut into the dark tide,
no disguise.
I waded in after her,
ankles bruised by rock.
Water lit with jellyfish,
each pulse a warning.
I stopped where it deepened,
felt the pull take hold.
No exit left,
just the Pacific’s mouth
closing around her.
Sep 1, 2025
Sep 1, 2025 at 8:08 PM UTC
one April dusk the
sallow street-lamps were turning
snowy against a west of robin’s egg blue when
i entered a mad street whose
mouth dripped with slavver of
spring
chased two flights of squirrel-stairs into
a mid-victorian attic which is known as
O ΠΑΡΞΕΝΩΝ
and having ordered
yaoorti from
Nicho’
settled my feet on the
ceiling inhaling six divine inches
of Haremina in
the thick of the snick-
er of cards and smack of back-
gammon boards i was aware of an entirely
***** circle of habitués their
faces like cigarettebutts, chewed
with disdain, led by a Jumpy
***** who played each
card as if it were a thunderbolt red-
hot peeling
off huge slabs of a fuzzy
language with the aid of an exclamatory
tooth-pick
And who may that
be i said exhaling into
eternity as Nicho’ laid
before me bread
more downy than street-lamps
upon an almostclean
plate
“Achilles”
said
Nicho’
“and did you perhaps wish also shishkabob?”
11k
Escape pods
Ferried fears
Gaping heart
Falling tears
Dishevelled mind
Emotional unrest
Watered ground
Familiar guest
Questioned answers
Unanswered questions
Glassy eyes
Increased tension
Dissipating hope
Chewed confidence
Broken spirit
Unwelcomed sentence
Failing health
Unstable mind
Choked fingers
Flying blind
Pathetic plea
Stretched thin
Battered insides
Uncomfortable skin
Eventual stop
Frightful frights
Perceived freedom
Within sight
Bruised being
Absent gods
Relying upon
Escape pods
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 9:06 PM UTC
it is hell
to have loved someone-
to know you love them
right now, still-
so much and for so long,
and to realize
you don't actually feel
them loving you back.
if you turn onto
a one-way street
in the wrong direction,
it is still dangerous,
against the law
even if you didn't see the sign.
and just because i love
and my love is accepted
does not mean
i'm on a two-way street.
now i'm crushed.
between metal and metal
i'm crushed. in flashes,
when you speak, i see
myself chewed between your teeth.
so when you light up when you smile
when i say in some way that
i love you, you are also
the oncoming headlights,
appearing suddenly,
coming at me on the highway.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
the rude gesture when one seeks the inelegant simplicity of
no words;
no words
suffice to say,
magnitude of some offenses requires physicality;
a physicality that injures nothing but the
surrounding atmosphere of
its pride
for it’s pride
that goeth before the fall,
the pursuit of dishonor and dishonoring,
given that,
it shames the giver as much if not more so
dishonor
for words are our truest masters
I'd rather you gave a round shout out of
**** you,
for as the parents say these days
use your words
rather than show me your
nail chewed runty midfielder
ah, words...I do so love them beasties
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC
the coffee shop on 1st street
you told me my eyes were warm and belonged here
I shrugged and gulped my coffee even though it burned my tongue
the bookstore on 2nd street
you told me my hands were made of love from the pages I've turned
I glanced at you and nervously chewed my fingernails until it hurt
the music store on 3rd street
you told me my heart was an acoustic guitar that'd been misplayed
I tripped over my shoelace and madly tied them up along with my heart
the arcade on 4th street
you told me my smile was worth all the time and effort because I deserved it
I went to the bathroom and before I left I smiled in the mirrors a little too hard
the beach off 5th street
you asked me what I was so afraid of that kept holding me back
I let the sand crumble between my fingers and told you that I was the sand and you were the waves
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
.
*So here I am once more, in the playground of the broken hearts.
One more experience, one more entry in a diary self-penned.
Yet another emotional suicide,
overdosed on sentiment and pride.
To late to say I love you, to late to re-stage the play.
Abandoning the relics in my playground of yesterday'.*
The first words you killed me with.
The first Script to make me cry.
The opening song on a plate of sorrow.
The opening sight of my Poets eye.
Your words soaked my childlike mind
as I lost on the roundabouts and swings.
The Jester stands with violin and quill,
composing tears on his broken strings.
I sat and chewed those daffodils
and I still struggle to answer why.
I grew up and left that playground
but its the place where my heart died.
So I never did write that love song,
My words just never seemed to flow.
The martyrs twisted smile haunts me,
my Harlequins head dreams in sorrow.
The game is over.
The game is over.
© Pagan Paul (22/05/17)
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 1:14 PM UTC
*So numb I feel like chewed up gum.
Turning into the black blown out smoke from my lungs. Reduced life span, who knows when it could be done. So how much do you value life ? Will you leave the city's cage and go on the run, chasing the sunset, drunk of *** in search of love. Some choose money as the total sum of success. It is too easy of a hunt. I'm embarking on an expedition to uncover the mystery of total freedom. To put it bluntly, I will never slow down like a slug. You can't hold me down until I've found my treasure hidden somewhere on this globe. One day i'll disappear and become unknown. Because birds leave the nest and my turn is next.*
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
Did you know that
if you pour fat on a stone
God will eat it and
chip his teeth
becoming, ...angry?
Did you know that?
Is that, ...literal?
in meaning...
did God once bite a man's flesh
consuming his shoulder;
like a pork shoulder?
Did God do that?
Maybe God just shouldered,
...the burden of...
silly men and teacher's tales?
Maybe he didn't chip his teeth at all?
Perhaps he swallowed something ridiculous?
*I don't know,
Believe what you like...
From space the Peloponnese,
appear like a chewed-up shoulder.*
Don't they?
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
I tried
to throw it out
along with the bubbles,
the yellow duck,
and the knickers the dog crudely
chewed
pushed it amongst silled plants,
now it stands,
between Thick Cut Marmalade
and Chlorine Free Baking Cups
a token, painted green with white
Maori dots, symbolizing
the small dreamings
of a tortoise
and since this house
is my body, see
how I have placed you
in the kitchen
and I cannot get beyond,
the simple meaning,
of daily needing
love like water, air
and how I don't seek
to see it fully
yet often find myself
checking if its there.
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 12:14 PM UTC
I thought and thought
I hoped and believed
I cried and mourned
I screamed and laughed
Then I realised it was passion.
My gorgeous
Every moment with you
Crazy for you
The fluff of your paw
Touches my soul
You gnaw at my heart
Endless days
Shortened nights
Awaken to the mystery of life
Picasso book
"Art Can Only be ******
Chewed
My babe forgiven all
You daze into my eyes
Lips so soft
I am insane for you
Our affection entwined
You lay on my chest
I feel every breath
And I realise it's Passion
Forever crazy for you
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 10:22 AM UTC
Today inspiration came in the form of a watermelon seed.
I was sitting on the couch
as per usual
and eating watermelon chunks
with my fingers.
I was doing nothing else productive.
I was eating
and being ugly
in my baggy black pullover
and my green pajama pants.
I thought about
how gross I would look
if anyone were to catch me
as I chewed on a mouthful of watermelon
and tried not to choke on the seeds.
I shamelessly licked the watermelon juice from my fingers.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC
Strong currents flow different ways
From where the bridge was, after the first plunge
Soothed the sun-burnt skin and the hay-splinters
Loosed the straw stuck in ears
After I left you under the porch light
Alone on the other side of the night
Where poplars reached for the moon and stars
And the cows chewed on bits of memory from when
In the cobwebs and calf pens
They were brought to life by your gentle hands
You crossed two worlds to find me in the darkness
But I was not the one you were searching for
You prayed for miracles while
God stood by, arms crossed
Just taking in the sunset and the clouds
Like an old tree beside a grave carefully fenced
To keep it disheveled amid tended fields
Thus the cancer had its way and I could not
Fill the void left in your heart or mine
With no more tears to soften dry leather
I put our hearts on skewers and held them
Over the bridge's burning planks
Too close and they were immolated
Not carefully spun to stay golden and warm inside
So I packed my own hollow heart full of nothing
Filled the passenger seat, until
There was only room for me and the steering wheel
And no way to turn
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 6:55 PM UTC
open field, ***** hands, chewed-down nails
I stood at my door and had a fine breakfast:
warm breeze over-easy on a gravel-bagel,
a side of spiced bird calls tasted envious,
baked humidity that I ate with my feet,
O, to be a head chef of intention.
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 6:50 PM UTC
food
the requirement of life
comes in all shapes and tastes
and smells and quantities
to the starving
a bowl of rice
the bottom barely covered
to the obese
a five-course meal
or piles of junk food
in bright packaging
the starving
celebrate their meals
in quiet concentration
each grain of rice
is tasted carefully
and chewed with care
extracting to the full its scant nourishment
the last one disappears
with unheard sighs
when junk food and the five-course meal
have long been finished
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 12:27 PM UTC