"chumming" poems
Sometimes we run
into the arms of a terrible person
just trying to escape a broken heart
because loneliness has been known
to taste like warm whiskey,
parliament lights and the kiss
of a lack luster lover who spent more time
trying to lie you between the covers
than they did learning to say your name
out loud, you know the type.
I'd be lying too if I didn't say
I've been that kind, that tall glass of water
promising to dampen a dry tongue
which ain't got the courage to say I'm sorry,
not to nobody else but to themselves.
So I want apologize for not seeing
or perhaps ignoring how crushed you were
when I rolled you up in my arms
the way hikers do sleeping bags
and I held you in my lap
because the car was packed
and I didn't know where else to put you.
You must have felt safe there
thinking you were the place
for me to lay my head on this road trip
we call life, but little did you know
had the trunk not been full
I would have been sitting alone
face aglow from my cellular phone
texting other women,
probably with a smile.
I am here to tell you, you deserve better
and I don't want you ever settle
for anything less than a lover's embrace
because comfort plus time
equals unease on your mind.
Worrying whether this companion of yours
has become a stone tied to your heart
with a heavy rope and its tugging you down
into the dark blue depths
filling your lungs with ice cold seawater
with every last breath.
I want you to be with someone
you can chase for the rest of your life
and when you get tired of swimming
they won't leave you treading,
chumming shark infested waters
with blood from a poorly stitched heart
but they will follow and follow
until you both find that deserted island,
that paradise you promised one another.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 10:55 AM UTC
an open book on your lap,
hair a black jumble as you cross your legs.
i can hear the skin sliding over skin and the pursing of your lips,
like the sea chumming it up with the salt or some ships.
and of your tongue like a red oval sun
fighting against mine in the dark,
i lilt and drown in the dime of flesh above the ankle strap of your left shoe.
you uncross your legs and look at me, then dip your head toward the ground,
draw your hair out with your fingers, past your face, and let it fall
between your thighs.
skin brown as sand and as hot inside the living room,
beneath seventy watt bulb and lampshade.
you sit up, one mile into my mouth,
and cross your legs again, begin,
*“do you like the way that sounds, joshua?"
when my thighs brush against one another?”*
the moon gets caught
somewhere in a net as birds shut up
and cats uncurl.
unbuckle an ankle strap,
slip one foot barely out of your shoe. *“listen to that,
joshua, you can hear my foot
arching, my legs smearing into one another.”* sand glistens
with sweat
and trembles. uncross legs and gather your hair behind your neck,
slip off your other shoe and claim that you are “naked”.
i believe you
and blame my imagination on the book covered in the folds
of your dress.
***for my shortie
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
the camphor of your exhale, is me -
easy breathing the tear gas.
i bark like a dog.
i chase habits with discipline; chumming the waters of known sharks
that pray on other oceans and hunt other seals...
like prey.
i'm so elaborate, my symbols call ' time out '
just to catch a glimpse of my
always.
i tangle me.
a morphine drip of metronomes
yawning splendidly... a tide of pools.
an uncommon dress -
in a code, derived from the stomach -
of the throat...the next, next; and the kept boat
capsized.
no joke.
Ha.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 3:20 PM UTC
the cat inhabits the kitchen chair
glibly being a warm and spread pat
as my seat is taken i am stood
weight shifting between pained legs
taking in my breakfast like medicine
chumming it down
addressing none of its flavours or ‘mouthfeel’
a man passes the window
uncreased in a deceased business suit
yet bunched into himself under a brolly
it's not raining
but it was most-likely forecast on his cellphone
strange human behaviour…
i note my own
and remove the somnolent cat
to take my seat at the table
Dec 14, 2023
Dec 14, 2023 at 10:17 AM UTC
Bodies bend, break, sink in the tide.
Everlasting tides that pull
Drag those like us under the water.
The cuttlefish watch
Bubbles surface, blue water, red water.
Light from the failing sun burns on the sea,
Clouds forming acrobat troupes
Burning
red, gold, orange.
The water is calm and quiet
Beats the stones into eventual sands.
Silent waves wrap
Twist snakes of currents around ankles
Pull
Pull
Until they fall
Join the sea.
Water in lungs, swinging low in the chest
Chests opened by stones cut by the floods.
Chumming the water
Drowning
Lost at sea and revived as sirens.
Blood on the water burns in the light.
The reflections make seeing hurt,
Almost as much as watching the sun die.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
**Beauty around
Peace I've found
Spring at its best
An all new zest
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you
Colors sprinkled
Artistically mingled
Heart merrily sings
Mood's upward swings
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you
The glacier of frozen desire
Melting in solar fire
The warmth is soothing
The tenderness oozing
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you
Bumblebees are humming
Right on the buds, chumming
The rivers are calm
Nature plays a balm
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you
Koel birds are singing
On the branch of Palash, swinging
The heart plays encore
For love opens it's door
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you**
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 10:45 PM UTC
Stacks of letters
saying "no"
rejection can be
such a blow
most every writer
has some
even Dr. Seuss
though he had a chum
that's how the book
expressed it
when they said
who would have
guessed it
he'd pleaded
to so many
said maybe
ten or twenty
supposed to make
for less regrets
bid you continue
in your
attempts
but
then they drop the boom
bring you back your gloom
they go on to say
in these very terms
he bumped into a "chum"
who worked
for a publishing firm
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 10:31 AM UTC
Rumor has it Sir Walter Raleigh
Is on the chase once more
An expedition of sinking ships
Braziers burning fast upon the shore
Chumming with time's blood
Panning for fool's gold
Wave after wave of repercussion
The future so willfully sold
For one bowl of soup
Like Esau famished from the hunt
Turning to his artful brother
And offering him the forefront
Our crowned jewel in all her tattered
Finery cleaved to the heart
The fabled city forsook
By once trusted hands tearing her apart
Set out the coffins
Sing for us an elegy
In the surf of this funeral march
Be sure to separate corpses from algae
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 6:41 AM UTC