"lump" poems
empty is not the right word.
what is the word for
not quite empty but not quite full?
there is a glass on the table-
it is not half-empty,
but it is not half-full.
it is just a glass of water.
i am just a glass of water:
not empty, not full;
not happy, not sad-
not anything.
not anything at all.
the clear blue nothingness
reminds me of the fact.
it’s dotted with cotton candy clouds.
i wonder if they are as sweet.
my tongue salivates at the thought.
it is like a land of dreams
without sorrow or pain
yet i am here,
floating lightly
though i feel like a paperweight,
weighed down by the lump in my throat.
it’s hard to remember
what home looks like.
i can’t see in terms of
“where i belong,”
i only see in terms of
“the trees are like broccoli sprouts-” and
“the cars look like hotwheels-” and
“every single one has a person in it, and
they all have their own journeys, and
i am here.”
i don’t think they know how beautiful it is.
i didn’t.
home to me now is a backpack
a couple books
and a trinket from an old friend.
they are the only ones like me:
strangers in a strange land.
i’d like to find my way back someday-
if only i knew the way.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 11:14 PM UTC
A lump of coal
Tossed into the fire
Before it even stood a chance
Of becoming a diamond
And all it needed was time
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
at 4 in the
morning the sun
is never up
but i usually am
i worry
about things
that are out of
my control
even more about
things that are
get up early
when i work
and earlier
when i don’t
the older i get the
more i learn
sometimes you
need to cry it out
alone
at night
into your pillow
the blankets
wrapped all
around you
sometimes you
need to cry
and cry
and cry
until the morning
sun falls across
the tears dried
under your lashes
and the lump
in your throat has
dissolved so you can
breathe with ease
you need to get up
let hot water
wash it away
let the steam rising
from your mug soften
any sorrow left around
your morning eyes
take a deep breath
don’t mention it
to anyone
and
just
keep
going
i will
just
keep
going
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 5:12 AM UTC
‘To bed! To bed!’
Said Sleepy-head;
‘Tarry awhile,’ said Slow;
‘Put on the pan,’
Said Greedy Nan;
‘We'll sup before we go.’
(from Mother Goose)
They sat at the kitchen table as
The candle flickered low,
And Greedy Nan put on the pan
To indulge her sister, Slow,
While Sleepy Weepy Annabelle
Blotted her book with tears,
And thought of her Beau from long ago
Who she hadn’t seen for years.
‘Why doesn’t Roger notice me,
Why doesn’t Alan Dell?
I’m wearing the dress cut low for me
And I’ve hitched my skirt as well.
I’ve a pretty turn to my ankle, so
You’d think it would drive them wild.’
‘But men are a mystery,’ said Slow,
‘And Alan Dell’s a child.’
While over the pan stood Greedy Nan,
Was cracking a turkey’s egg,
A lump of yeast and a slice of beast
And a single spider’s leg.
With a wing of bat and an ounce of fat
And a toe of frog for the spell,
She needed to turn her sister off
From her crush on Alan Dell.
For Greedy Nan was the eldest girl
And would have to marry first,
The other two would wait in the queue
Or their fortunes be reversed,
The omelette sizzled, and in the pan
She added before they saw,
A piece of some Devil’s Trumpet plant
For the mating game meant war.
She sliced the omelette into half
And she served them up a piece,
‘Didn’t you want?’ said Annabelle
But Slow enjoyed the feast.
‘I’m not that terribly hungry now
I’ve cooked it up in the pan,
I think I’ll just have a slice of bread,’
Said the scheming Greedy Nan.
They finished up and they sat awhile,
And they mused about their fate,
‘If Greedy Nan isn’t married soon,
For us it will be too late.’
‘I’ve set my sights on a country squire,’
Said Nan, without a blink,
Lured them away from her secret fire
To confuse what they might think.
‘The room is woozy, spinning around,
I’d better get me to bed,’
Said Annabelle, while Slow with a frown
Saw Dwarves dancing in her head.
But Greedy Nan was cleaning the pan
To clear all signs of the spell,
Her back was turned to her sisters, spurned
For the sake of Alan Dell.
And when he came in the morning
Greedy Nan was sat by the door,
While Annabelle and her sister Slow
Were lying dead on the floor,
‘I didn’t mean it to **** them, Al,
It was only a simple spell,’
But as he cuffed and led her away
He frowned, did Alan Dell.
David Lewis Paget
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
It's that cold, small lump
Lying in my stomach here
Keeping me away.
I wish I had the guts to
I wish I had bravery.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
I don't appreciate
bleeding for nine days straight
Flow so heavy I wanna die
at the silliest things I start to cry
the annoying things never made me twitch
but now I just go full *****
I just lie around like a lump
And everything, I want to ****
Simply, I have no motivation
Golly Don't I hate ************
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 12:05 PM UTC
Went to my magwinya lady today,
she's contained at the canteens on north campus,
As she rose up her left eye was bluish ****** grey,
A lump in my throat formed not as big as the one on her face,
my eyes secreted their salty solution,
my mind quickly processed confusion,
"M-m-m-m-may i-i-i p-p-lease have five magwinyas"
She smirked at my muttered utterance as she began to fill the thin transparent plastic with the oily flour-filled *****
I reluctantly asked "What happened to your eye?"
She responded in Xhosa reasonably assuming my common cocoa coating meant our tongues matched until I told her otherwise.
Eventually she simply said, "Fight".
I said, "you got in to a fight?"
She said "Mmm".
I went over to my banana lady and said the magwinya lady has a black eye and she casually claimed, "Her boyfriend beat her yesterday."
Confirming what my teary eyes and lumpy throat knew to be true when I saw my sweet magwinya lady with a swollen eye ****** grey and blue.
Frustrated at the nothing I could do.
Powerlessly pirched on a brown bench as the black sparrows chirped pleading for a piece of my last magwinya,
Should I tell her to escape?
Is that even my place?
How many black eyes are blotched on this bruised land i, a fearful foreigner, trace?
I'll bury my brain in my book,
somewhat cowardly crook,
I'll see what i saw but take no second look,
like a camel's head in the sand,
I'll timidly tell myself these things are just too hard to understand.
Nov 3, 2021
Nov 3, 2021 at 6:43 AM UTC
When did it visit me?
I really don't know when.
It came out of nowhere,
I feel that it's a sin.
Naked in the shower,
washing up clean.
I felt this little lump,
scared and unforeseen.
Feeling all alone,
I looked up to the sky.
Fingers locked together,
I asked the Lord, "Why?"
Now, I lay in silence,
while the tumor grows inside.
Putting up these walls,
all I do is cry.
Months have gone by,
with the chemo and the draws.
The sickness took my *******
now that's the final straw.
It's been six months now,
I struggled for my life.
I beat the **** cancer.
I AM HAPPY, I WILL SURVIVE!!
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
If you were a rock you'd be a diamond,
no not a diamond but a ruby
Not because of your red hair
but because of your impurity
Because even with impurity,
you still shine so bright to me.
I would be a lump of coal
burning bright
so you can shine,
for one brief moment
My light is thine.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
Mrs. Claus was at the door
Making sure that Santa knew
He had to see the doctor
He must be there by two
Santa gruffed and grumbled
Said there's too much to be done
"You know I hate the doctor"
"The doctor's just no fun"
Mrs. Claus held fast and said
"You do this every year"
"and you always have a new excuse"
"when the appointment time is near"
Santa, said he'd do it
Although, it was done under duress
He could run an elven workshop
But the doctor, was more stress
He made it to the office
At two, precisely on the nose
The first thing the nurse said was
"Santa, take off all your clothes"
"You know we have to weigh you"
"It's in the contract that you signed"
"A little extra weight shift"
"Could get the sleigh all misaligned"
The scale said way past jolly
He was twenty pounds past plump
He was just below horrendous
Santa Claus was one fat lump
The doctor read the clipboard
And made a tsk tsk tsking sound
He said "Santa, you're much bigger"
"You're almost 5 full feet around"
"I have with me a letter"
"That the vet asked me to read"
"It says unless you drop some blubber"
"Four more reindeer you will need"
"Now, every story book out there"
"Names eight reindeer in line"
"And since you hired Rudolph"
"A lot have you with nine"
"But the vet now says you need thirteen"
"To get up in the sky"
"You've got to change your diet"
"Santa, please lay off the pie"
"I'm not saying all at once"
"But, you've got to drop some weight"
"Or, you'll be dropping gifts by plane"
"And you'll still be over weight"
Santa tried a little laugh,
Not a full out ** ** **
Truth be told, he'd lose his breath
He knew the weight would have to go
He got down off the table
Put on his hat, and Santa Suit
He looked as red as ever
When he tried to reach his boot
The doctor said "Good God Man"
"You can't go up like that"
Santa said "I'm fine doc"
"The kids want a Santa that is fat"
"There's a difference between jolly"
"Like the elf you're supposed to be"
"But Santa, count your chins man,"
"I lose count at twenty three"
"The elves are under orders"
"Not to load the magic sleigh"
"Until you commit to weight loss"
"And you promise right away"
"I know that you are Santa"
"And for this I may get coal"
"But, your wife, Santa...she scares me"
"She said she'd put me in a hole"
"Santa, lose some poundage"
"Give it just a little try"
"It's not right...thirteen reindeer"
"Flying through the Christmas sky"
"I know it's confidential"
"what has happened here today"
"But, Santa...I will tell her"
"If you don't...and right away"
Santa, said he'd try to
He said "just tell me what to do"
"Truth be told there doctor"
"The woman scares me too!!!"
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 10:24 PM UTC
today i couldn;t hold it in any longer
i said my piece
it didn't go well
Now I'm facing the
Chill i knew would arrive
like ice on fire
Frozen Lump in throat
Peering over the abyss
Shattering All illusion of
Peace
Or security
Or civility
Like A dam giving way
But instead of
bursting forth
this water is jagged ice.
For now,
Suspended in descent
we are
in
Deep
Freeze
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
A man I once loved told me he wished I “cared more about my body”
But I do care
I care for every lump and curve as much as I hate them
As much as he hated them
I remember yearning for puberty
A thing to make me tall
And thin
A biological fix for my
PROBLEMATIC BODY
Does he know the history?
The gain and loss
The bullies
The pushed-into-puddles
The nightmares
I despise the power of his lips
A lover disfigured
That’s the vibe
His words birthing a mantra of shame
And I’ll never outrun this skin
Thirty years later
And he’s pushing me into a lake
No principal to save me this time
No dry clothes
He left me years ago
Found a much thinner replacement for my side of the bed
It’s for the best
I tell myself as I drunkenly throw rocks at his window
“Don’t think
Just eat”
Is this just a game I play?
Three glasses of whiskey and a Postmate
Won’t chase the horror away
Momentary pleasure
(add guacamole)
Is that enough?
Will I ever be enough?
No
I am too much
Too much skin
Too much softness
Too many folds
Too much of me is filling up space
That’s what they tell me
I see the reflection and I hate all of this excess ME
“I wish you cared more about your body”
What is the remedy?
A perfect diet
A perfect exercise regimen
Pills
Sweat
Porcelain
Think before you speak on a body, sir
Because your words alone
Have the power to ignite a hell
Of
The
Utmost
Destruction
His venom is still pulsing through me
And I’m burning up
I want to escape
Crawl out from the water
Become pure wind
But how do I love me?
How do I allow myself to occupy space?
To stop hiding from every mirror, every glance at the ocean of my belly?
I don’t know
I’m not there yet
I am on an opposite shore consumed by self-hatred
Longing to set sail for somewhere
Somewhere I can cherish the secrets that these sacred ripples of flesh hide
Where my waistline is a treasure map of my wisdom
A place where his words have no power
Where I collapse into the sunset and set myself...
F
R
E
E
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 11:46 AM UTC
The mirror mocks my every move
Every lump I try to smooth
The mirror cons me of my happiness
Knot in my throat, stuck like this
Dysmorphia
I feel the corners of my mouth
Like they're tied to the ground
I try to fix it, try to heal
I try to replace it, the shame I feel
Dysmorphia
Feeling visceral
Indescribable
If only I could find
Something comparable
Dysmorphia
Jul 17, 2022
Jul 17, 2022 at 3:13 AM UTC
dearer to me than my heart
dearer to me than my soul
and i bleed
I lose
with my heart and soul
Inflicting pain, sorrows
griefs -- endless remorse
Once my homeland was pure
it was freed from blood
****** insensitivity
once my homeland was free of evil inhabitants
sorrows multiplied a thousand fold
gathered in pain-inflicted tears
with lump in throats
distant from your presence
i cry-- for your loss
On the rooftops of tragedies, my heart sink more
like an orphan, an abandoned child
my homeland bleeds
i scream within
i feel the abandonment
dearer to me than my own voice
dearer to me than my own eyes
and i am silent
I am blind
losing my sight, losing my voice
as my voice can't reflect the pain i feel
my eyes can't cry any more
reflecting ocean of deprived
once my homeland was free of pain
people were safe
we running like rivers
do not say it
our country was a flesh in body
now it is a dead body amongst many flesh
forgotten the promises
forgotten the true colors
in the name of revenge, we humiliate humanity
my intention is not to write poems
in my soul, i embrace nights long
this land absorbed wounds, tears
blood, fights, and many martyrs
who are forgotten
my country is our hope
we are growing in broken shadows
this siege is waiting us to drown us
in the middle of lonesome warrior
nobody can feel in absence of love
who are incapable to feel
to take, to absorb
love require us to cry, to embrace
today our homeland is deprived
abandoned, bleeding
she is under siege
as we forgotten to love
we deprived her of her loyalty
we deprived her of her love
we deprived her of her true lovers
My homeland I feel your pain
in my heart I carry all with me
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
I want crazy, I want cranky
Let me be that old woman who gets mad easily
Let this misogynistic society grow so great it will never be over oh no
Crush me, objectify me
Romanticize the way I dehumanize myself
Discriminate me
I am the stigmas, don't free them from me
I will drink your *** and be happy
Break me, let me crumble
I am a lump of inedible meat
Make a bet on my rushing blood
Don't lose, don't lose oh you will win for sure
Just say it and ***** on my mouth
Don't let me have worth without you
I am lesser than a slave, don't let me stare at your eyes
Play with my broken bones, cut my veins as you please
Make me beg, step on me
I am watermarked and it says your name
And yes this heart beats for you to stop
It can start again if you say so
You are the God, just do everything you want, just do everything you want
I can't not take it
I am inanimate
I am inanimate
I am inanimate
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 5:04 AM UTC
I want to run.
Be free.
Be the little girl they see in me,
but plot-twist happen frequently,
opening your eyes to things you didn't see.
Burning the cheerful into your mind.
If only I didn't once leave that behind.
If I could return to those naive, fun days.
But fun was out and sad was in,
so I figured "well okay."
I dived right in,
singeing my skin,
turning me to the pit.
I was told,
"don't follow your instincts",
so I guess this is what I get.
Now I sit alone,
a pitiful lump of coal,
as a dog without bone,
or soccer ball with no goal.
I'm heading to "God knows where"
on a train called "Oopsy Days,"
and when I arrive,
they will all be amazed.
For I am the writer
who will give them a story,
for I am a lighter,
and my flame gives me glory.
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 8:28 PM UTC
Songster, not as sinister as they say,
she's no monster, just admittedly
a bit lost in her way.
she caves as I'm walking
down the hall.
I pick her up, off of that flooring,
the rubbery kind, whatever it is,
I guess it's rubber, but the kind that
squeaks when you walk on it after
coming in from the rain; to hell with poetry.
And so anyways I pick her up
and sit her on this bench next to me
and give her about five minutes to come to
terms with breathing and pick shimmering
auburn hair out of the tears smeared across her face,
two, mesmerizing, perfectly blue wells
the source of the streams.
And then I ask her what that
was all about and she blurts out that she
belongs in the Fine Arts Department,
and her car broke down months ago
but her father
doesn't give a **** about it,
because she can't lay up the basketball
or steal the base and so he honorably
lump summed her entire tuition
and sent her to another state
and how ****** she would be
if she had to get a job for the first
time at the age of twenty three
so she wouldn't have to be
dependent on her family and
that she was sick of wondering why
not a single guy had ever given her
a ******* flower
and that if she ever did end up liking one
two weeks later she would find out that he
was exactly the same as the others and
she had a broken look in her eyes
when she said she wondered why we were
all here in the first place, and how we were
made this way, and if people were actually
ever meant to fit together or not;
*what if there was nothing as certain
as two halves making a whole?*
She wanted to know how everyone's
mind had a different game to play,
she wanted to know why Jupiter
had to be so far away and everything in
between.
We had strolled off of the school grounds by
this time but I still looked twice before pulling out my flask.
I unscrewed the cap, handed it to her and said
*follow me to Deadbeat Hollow,
where we've already thrown
our problems out of the window*
and she said
lets go.
May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
A lump of eminence
Swells in her throat,
But she swallows it down
Flashing a shiny, humble smile.
This wild dandelion grows in the sun
and dances to the beat of the wind,
Scattering seeds of peace
And songs of love
In every corner of the world.
She floats among the stars
Crashing perfectly into
Every illustrious constellation.
As she shakes the stardust from her hair
And dusts her glitter-speckled shoulders,
She reaps the benefit
Of her selfless, meaningful offerings.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 12:56 AM UTC
light cursed falling in a singular block
her,rain-warm-naked
exquisitely hashed
(little careful hunks-of-lilac laughter splashed
from the world prettily upward,mock
us….)
and there was a clock. tac-tic. tac-toc.
Time and lilacs….minutes and love….do you?and
Always
(i simply understand
the gnashing petals of *** which lock
me seriously.
Dumb for a while.my
god—a patter of kisses,the chewed stump
of a mouth,huge dropping of a flesh from
hinging thighs
….merci….i want to die
nous sommes heureux
My soul a limp lump
of lymph
she kissed
and i
….chéri….nous sommes
6.3k
The braches of the faint oak were bewitched to a dark gold under
the orange, thick silk sunset.
The wood, as the sun lowered, changed from apple green
to golden billow
which swept foamy,
rose clouds along a now cucumber, blurry horizon.
Plump plums and fruit rinds
litter ripe walkways alongside the flower beds who's tickled buds
are closing slightly as the fickle sky, gone nine, turns to a majestic
Indian blue and the June monastery's milky swirls are lit by the sugar lump stars.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
It lingers between small talks,
things best left unsaid.
All that remains
is the silence, so dead.
Nervous, little peeks
when the eyes refuse to meet.
That lump in your throat
at every heartfelt greet.
Staring into empty space
like you lost your muse.
Why was the courage hidden
if it was of no use?
The mind begins to burn
and the smoke grows thick.
It creeps into the heart
and makes you sick.
The silence then grows
with each passing moment.
Memories cloud your eyes
and make you repent.
The tongue begins to sting.
So much to be said.
Yet, all that ever remains
is the silence, so dead.
Things remain unsaid
when words begin to fail.
That excuse you make
is just another tall-tale.
That tension in the air
when you pass each other by.
That lump in your throat
stays, and you wonder why.
Dodging the questions
for there are no answers.
Wishing for things to go back
to the way they were.
They still linger between small talks,
things which were left unsaid.
All that will ever remain
is the silence lying dead.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 9:18 AM UTC
Awkward tastes like that glass of red wine you offered,
My name falling out of your mouth like a word you'd forgotten;
Awkward feels like your arms around me
and me trying to remember if you used to rub my back in a hug;
Awkward looks like not making any eye contact
but instead taking turns watching eachother;
The room was full of your family and latina music,
I hadn't been that happy since September
And all the while I could feel my heart choking
On the silence between you and I
And that big lump of "What now?"
That currently defines us.
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 11:56 PM UTC
So winter closed its fist
And got it stuck in the pump.
The plunger froze up a lump
In its throat, ice founding itself
Upon iron. The handle
Paralysed at an angle.
Then the twisting of wheat straw
into ropes, lapping them tight
Round stem and snout, then a light
That sent the pump up in a flame
It cooled, we lifted her latch,
Her entrance was wet, and she came.
5.7k
I'm exhausted with life
Lost all enthusiasm for it
I get nothing done..
falling behind .
I feel I'm losing touch.
Seems
the hat drops more frequently
never in the same spot
causing both my eyelids to quiver
nails digging in the skin
palms cuff my ears
trying to mute the sound
when it lands.
Withstanding as much as I can
before I black out .
Waking up
eyes sore matted shut.
The lump in my throat still there from
the night before.
Never cared so little.
Never have I just stopped watching
the moon fall asleep
having my coffee
telling the sun
good morning
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 8:24 PM UTC
Beat-Up Old Car
Vastly under-appreciated possession
In dull blue, a MK1, no less, with original rust
Inside lingering scents of Exchange and Mart
top-notes of WD-40 and miscellaneous mix tapes
A car like this gets into your life
in lumpy knuckle-barking unsubtle ways,
stays there in subtle ones
That long drive back to Yorkshire
in the quintessential exemplar
Clutch cable snaps.
****** and Crap.
Hardly helpful but can be accommodated
with enough thought
rough though it is
on starter motor
and nerves whenever
anticipatory powers inadequate
and we are forced
to a complete red-light stop
Brakes dodgier, exhaust noisier
than ideal or legal
Gender-ambiguous
elderly tyres flirt outrageously with slick tarmac
Showing their canvas underwear
and male-pattern baldness
Keeping this unstable, unsafe, unreliable
ultimately essential lump of metal
moving and on the road
is a fine art
Engaging, fluid and intense art;
The Clash and The Specials
Costello and The Cure in support
A distraction then
getting hauled over by plod
somewhere near Bury St. Edmunds
Thatcher's boys.
Tax? MoT? Insurance? ID?
No real interest shown
Any passengers in the back?
Clearly no. Pickets?
Pickets? What?
Please open the boot sir... Oh.
On your way lad. Drive carefully
I was, officer, I was
More than you will ever know
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC