"tuna" poems
You think I'm crazy?
HA! That's real funny.
If I were crazy, would I have written a twelve-hundred-page novel without using a single vowel?
No. 'Cause I did. And I'm not crazy.
If I were crazy, would I be able to predict the future by dropping empty tuna cans into an open drain in my backyard?
No. 'Cause I can. And I'm not crazy.
If I were crazy, would I love to slit your ******* throat just to watch the color drain from from your face and onto that cleanly pressed collared shirt of yours?
Yes. I would love that if I were crazy.
But I'm not crazy.
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
*Diri masusukol an kahirayo han Imo urukyan
Bisan rocket plane pa it akon sakyan
Ha sinirangan ngan katundan ngadto gihap, aadto Ka
Bisan ha Ionosphere man ug ha pinakailarom han tuna
Languyon ko man an bug-os nga Pasipiko
Bisan milyones ka metros diri ak makakaabot ha Imo
Pero mayda ko nasabtan ug saad nga ginkakaptan
Bisan usahay diri ko intawon maintindihan
Nga bisan Ikaw an pinakahitaas han nga tanan
Nagpakaubos Ka para han Imo gugma ha kalibutan
Nga bisan harayo an imo kinabubutangan
Nahirani ka para pirme ko Ikaw madadaupan*
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
Someday I'll hold you like you me charms
Look you straight and deep in your eyes
And let you know how much I lust for you
I'll pull your soft body with me masculine arms
Dead close to mine so that you realize
How glamorously my **** tightens for you
Someday I'll touch your neck with my teeth
I'll graze it so softly that you won't quit
And then pour magical whispers into your ears
The much I've dammed up all these years
I'll place my hard palms beneath your shirt
To softly hard caress your skin so that it'll sweetly hurt
Then I'll place my head onto yours and sigh
Because by this point I'll already be high
Someday I'll be this close and I won't miss
I'll peck your forehead but your lips kiss
You'll shut your eyes and savor my taste
I'll take it one step at a time with no haste
I'll patiently unbutton your outfit
You won't stop me for you'll feel me heat
Someday I'll **** at your beautiful *******
Draped like two cute oranges on your chest
You'll mourn like you're grieved at the pleasure
You'll beg me to quickly find my way inside
But I'll try and keep my control and decide
when to partake of your juicy treasure
Someday I'll explore further down your thighs
Me whom you much loathe and despise
You'll arch like a bow at every touch and laugh like a clown
Yet mourn as I navigate every street of tuna town
You'll beg me to pass through the tunnel of love
And just then I'll swiftly embed myself into nature's glove
I'll place myself above you,I'll be a long awaited burden
You'll hold my posterior as I plough through your garden
Since you say there's no love around here
Further apart your thighs will obediently split
While we make it
Someday we'll walk a thousand miles with no rest
We'll surf the ****** waves till we hit the viperous crest
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
1
Backwater nymph,
queen of serpentine black tresses
flaunting its coconut oil gleam;
envy of leggy girls from the Western ghat mountains,
and lissome maidens from the plains,
who can never eat as much fish, even if they wish.
Wearing hibiscus flowers,
on coiffure like hood of a king cobra,
your coral lips silently speak
of hot peppery kisses,
waiting for me at shaded corners.
Your sultry body in me arouses desires,
that could only be whispered in your ears.
2
On a coconut lagoon when we met,
for the first time and spoke,
non stop, as if we knew each other life long,
I heard music in your words.
Oh! in the tongue you spoke,
I heard the cadence of a nightingale
ecstatic, on its wings above the clouds,
love had prompted us to fly above the storms.
Your gleaming coal black eyes,
like silver hooks, tug at my heart strings,
that makes music, only I can hear,
you are a free flying lark,
above Kerala's lush coconut coast,
that extends from sea shore to the mountains.
3
**When we relished steaming brown rice,
mixed with clarified butter,
with spicy tuna curry, tasting so dainty,
cooked in bubbling sweet coconut milk,
my eyes like two crazy butterflies
circled your face, a blossomed Champak*.
Mashed cassava and roasted squid,
melted on our tongues,
in a perfect culinary language
any one would understand without effort.
4
Your lips had cinnamon scent,
spice land's boons,
when we kissed we touched heaven
of scents and spicy tastes.
When our eyes fell on each other,
near the ancient synagogue,
the hay days of which is over,
a long jasmine garland coiling your hair,
marked you different,
from the the ladies of your neighborhood,
surrounding you.
How well you did pretend
that you have never seen my face before!
You have mastered love's cunning,
and all the wily tricks to cheat
the enemies of our fiery love
my Freudian mind perfectly understood.
Just imagine the brouhaha we would invite,
when we elope, in the last boat,
to Alappuzha, stealthily at midnight.*
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
Eroding brick wall
all that remains
refracted, fading
fishermen shadow
red dawn’s early light
brackish still water
shocked violent green
seeps from the desert
to be subsumed
by an unrelenting sea
restless dreamers rise
muscle sturdy pangas
into the churning tide
seeking quicksilver
at the continental edges
returning boats ride low
the shrinking horizon
race to safe harbor
cold beer on ice
under palm palapas
in the restaurant
a young man
shows off tuna
half as tall as he is
to admiring tourists
like me, seeking
the deep, slow burn
salt, jalapeno, lime
a fitting end to this
unraveling dream
Pueblo Mágico
of “no bad days”
walls of contention
in a fractured land
will never separate us
one margarita, two
another raised in defiance
of those who would try
to confine and define
free-range spirits
the Pacific touches
this contiguous shore
from equator to pole
we could catch
a clockwise current
follow Polaris up North
arrive transformed
magnetically charged
disparate souls fused
together bound
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 8:38 AM UTC
when i was young
ammi packed me lunch
one strawberry jam sandwich
cut neatly into squares
as i grew older
and my tummy much bigger
(along with my appetite)
one turned into two
two to three
and finally
for some unknown reason
there were no strawberry jam sandwiches
but ammi still packed me lunch
it was tuna or chicken
maybe tomato and cheese
sometimes a pastry
i wasn't hard to please
and it never occurred to me
that my strawberry sandwiches
were gone
till one completely random day
i'm sitting with my friends
taking the first bite of my sandwich
a burst of strawberry fills my mouth
sweet, rich with sugar
it tastes red, good bright red
my strawberry jam sandwich came back
and i was bombarded by my childhood
playing on the swings sandwich in hand
red coated crumbs dotting my shirt
running out of class as soon as the bell rings
to munch munch munch
on my strawberry sandwiches
strawberry jam was never my favourite filling
but it filled me with memories
so occasionlly
when i'm feeling nostalgic
i'll pick up a slice, butter it up
spread my gooey, red friend
and share a sandwich with ammi.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 5:28 AM UTC
Among the market greens,
a bullet
from the ocean
depths,
a swimming
projectile,
I saw you,
dead.
All around you
were lettuces,
sea foam
of the earth,
carrots,
grapes,
but
of the ocean
truth,
of the unknown,
of the
unfathomable
shadow, the
depths
of the sea,
the abyss,
only you had survived,
a pitch-black, varnished
witness
to deepest night.
Only you, well-aimed
dark bullet
from the abyss,
mangled at one tip,
but constantly
reborn,
at anchor in the current,
winged fins
windmilling
in the swift
flight
of
the
marine
shadow,
a mourning arrow,
dart of the sea,
olive, oily fish.
I saw you dead,
a deceased king
of my own ocean,
green
assault, silver
submarine fir,
seed
of seaquakes,
now
only dead remains,
yet
in all the market
yours
was the only
purposeful form
amid
the bewildering rout
of nature;
amid the fragile greens
you were
a solitary ship,
armed
among the vegetables,
fin and prow black and oiled,
as if you were still
the vessel of the wind,
the one and only
pure
ocean
machine:
unflawed, navigating
the waters of death.
5.4k
it was a strange and fragile Kombination--
a desperate, lonely Hunger,
frenetic Thrill to sate--
we didn't speak each other's native Tongues
but Tongues we shared
in what we found, of random Meals,
and Pocket Lexika to taste
hidden Idioms we strove to understand..
our Bodies splashing Wasser
in the murky Spree, ******* Fountain by Berliner Dom
licking Lips of Bier und Eis a ways away from Reichstag Bullet Holes
below the steel Spirale encased in Glas
transparent Government--a Show for Tourist Stroll..
our Smiles glinting, coated international, that Week agreed
"eine schwester-bruder liebe.."
temptation--and propriety--preserved--
pale lotion, paler skin to honey in the sun
aloft in hostel bunks we shared--
a cush historic castle, touristische nook
of maps and candy pockets, so geil..
gleeful us, to melt from moscau and new york
we shared the deutsch between us,
ein bisschen englisch,
a bit of russisch too for fun...
our soulwise checkpoint charlie held the lust at bay
despite lustgarten romps
and walks beneath the lindens, lane of sighs..
an awkward bridge of question-words we built to muse about the stars
and what we see with only strangers never seen again.
we named ourselves an instant familie...so you could snore on me,
and let me stroke your hair
without the guilt of infidelity
the freedom from, we traded in our blatant,
goodbye tears you shed, i kept inside to craft mnemonic gems
i share and savor in again
'
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
My Mama's Cooking Is The Best
She Cooks And Bakes Me
All Kinds Of Delicious Foods
Such As Scalloped Potatoes,
Ground Turkey Meatloaf,
And Even Tuna Pies
She Bakes Me
The Sweetest Cakes
And The Most
Mouth-Watering Pies
She Makes Them All
By Hand, Of Course
She Kneads Her Bread With Ease
Delicate Lily-White Hands Caress
The Bread Dough Laying Before Her
She Makes And Bakes
The Best Meals You've Ever Heard
So Now She Has Less Time
To Make Those Delicious Foods
And I Am Beginning To Miss Them
And So Is My Hungry Stomach
~Marian~
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
Tuna sandwiches on white bread
Carried in a paper bag
Josh Groban on the CD player
Season Three of 2 broke Girls
Matching shoes and purses
Vacation in the Pocanos
Subscription to People Magazine
Pennies in a piggy bank
Silver-beige 4-door Accord
A little college but no degree
Always ten pounds overweight
Celebration meal at Sizzler
Artificial Christmas tree pre-lit
A mole that wants removing
Off white walls, pale green carpet
Outfits from mail order catalogs
Paydays with no yearly bonus
Jeopardy and Wheel of fortune
Polyester perm press everything
Bic Stik ball point pen
Swanson's TV dinner
Flip phone with no camera
*** two times a week and Sunday
Writing verse nobody reads
ljm
Jul 15, 2017
Jul 15, 2017 at 1:22 AM UTC
while i do love
the taste of unhealthy
t.v. dinners for every meal
and i do enjoy
the slobbery salisbury steaks,
extra salty ramen noodles
and those little tuna cans,
it's great to come home
after a long emotional
roller coaster week
and have abuela cook up
some arroz con garbanzos
and unas buenas chuletas,
get the latest family gossip,
comments on how
el gobernador is being
the biggest pendejo
in power at the moment,
watch the news,
see how many were killed this week,
and just shake our heads
as the island crumbles into Detroit like
madness (at least we've got great beaches),
ah but yes,
abuela's cooking,
what i need to forget
the girl with the pretty hair.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
coupon for Granny's Original 32% All Natural Oatmeal®
cart-to-cart down aisle 48 and this man's an affront to khakis
and this woman's brain runs off a child's complaints
BLIZZARD 2013
according to the radar, buy 80 pounds of rock salt
from The Home Depot®, more saving. more doing.™
more rock salt. more doing
BLIZZARD 2013
according to the radar, buy two-weeks-worth of tuna,
a pallet of Pepsi Max®, and four loaves of Baker Good's NeverMold Bread®
all for $21.99 with your Sam's Club® Rewards Card
BLIZZARD 2013
cart-to-cart down aisle 62 where once there was soda, now an I.O.U.
and I read on the internet that the preservatives in diet cola will keep
my body from decomposing and I read on the internet that these
dented, discount tuna cans will give me botulism
BLIZZARD 2013
one jug of water from a spring in Mountain View, Arkansas
one jug of water from a spring in New Iberia, Louisiana
picking between Miley Cyrus and Hannah Montana
the pitter-patter on the warehouse roof reassures
time for eenie meenie miney mo
BLIZZARD 2013
and the intercom desperate for a cart wrangler
customer service now open for checkout
don't leave your toddlers alone in shopping carts
they're choking on free samples
with an echo, raindrops strike parking lot pools
just past the intersection an ambulance grumbles
BLIZZARD 2013
in a room with a view wishing the windowpane weatherized
beers bought by volume, candles forgotten, six months of
licorice, EverFluff® popcorn, and hand warmers of chemical kind
remembered
BLIZZARD 2013
will not be landing in the city, watch out for that rain though
if the temperatures drop below 32 degrees it could ice over
and if the temperatures don't, well, it won't
News 7's coverage of Blizzard 2013 brought to you by
The Home Depot®, more saving. More doing.™
and Sam's Club®, savings made simple.™
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
from a distance, I thought
you might be a wolf
straying from the high country,
confused by the cacophony of scents,
but no,
‘twas my vapid vision, you were
only a mongrel, perched high on the mound
the odors of suburban fast food ghosts
and tuna tins familiar to you
you stood atop the reeking remnants
your right front paw resting on
the shredded files of a grand embezzler
your left rear on the ear of a headless teddy bear
another on an orange rind until you shifted your weight
and found footing on a crinkled crushed water bottle
one of about…33,448,899 in the heap, or maybe
33,448,900
and the last on the ubiquitous cell phone
that heard its final voice a fortnight before,
when its master spoke his last light words
before he tossed it into a dark dumpster
and replaced it with another plastic confessor
whose fate would ultimately be the same
after some sublime texting and sexting
and a few vain words
to other deaf dogs
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
Walking alone
with some music
breeze whispering to trees
stars winking ceaselessly
alone with nothing but you
I have always thought
Why is mind so fond
of nights at dawn
of moon behind clouds
of clouds that has fallen
of face behind veil
of things we lose
of feelings untrue
What is so precious
about stones that shine-
only on light.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 6:16 AM UTC
Late last night I saw something fall from the sky,
I happened to be in the kitchen making tuna on rye.
As I looked out my window it landed in my yard.
It crushed the pink flamingos, the wife took it hard.
I stood there at the window taking in the sight,
Bright lights flashing red, blue, and white.
Then suddenly a door slid open, I was seized by fright.
But my wife had gone out the door, in her hand a kitchen knife.
As the little green man stepped out, he was looking fine,
In a tye dye tee shirt, waving his hands in a peace sign,
Looking like he had come straight from the sixties,
I think he was expecting to find some hippies.
Thinking this guy might be peaceful, I tackled my wife,
As she dropped the knife, I yelled, "He might be nice".
The little green man then pulled out a bic and gave it a flick,
As he held two finger to his lips, I realized his vice.
As I had given that up long ago, I had nothing to share.
But the little guys face showed such despair,
I went into the house and got the beer from the fridge,
And grabbed the Nacho Doritos for this astorial kid.
We sat on the lawn chairs out under the sky,
drinking the beer, eating tuna on rye.
I asked where he was from, he just pointed up.
When we finished our beers, I said good luck.
Back to the spaceship the little man went,
his steps were unsteady, I think he was spent.
He got in the spaceship and closed the door.
As I waved goodby, the spaceship took off with a roar.
I heard on the news later that night,
That something had crashed in a field, lips were tight.
But I heard a rumor, that someone was found alive.
I guess I should have told him not to drink and fly.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 3:40 PM UTC
What makes a salad
salady? It can't be the salad itself:
lettuce leaves
us confused with
fruit salad,
broccoli salad
and coleslaw
(which isn't even a salad - or is it?).
Perhaps "salad" is the scrumpy sound
it makes when you munch on the mixture?
But what about
banana salad,
potato salad,
and tuna salad?
Should we still believe
in a definitionless dish,
or should we better define it?
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 4:17 AM UTC
There are cats in all my dreams,
And I don't know why
Cause I don’t dream of tuna
Or mice or flies
They sit on windows,
Waltz through halls
Stare from the ground when I fly
Nudge my knees when I’m naked at the ball
Watch as I drown in honey
Paw at the bugs crawling up my arms
Sit on my lap as the plane goes down
Chirp along to the fire alarms
Do cats run out of dreams when they sleep?
And so wander into other people’s?
Is that why, when I wake up,
My cat always kisses my temples
Feb 1, 2023
Feb 1, 2023 at 11:51 PM UTC
We dine on Tuna & Merlot red wine
a single car's headlights shine
traveling down a road
so many stories untold
you're selling your old flat
in the Georgian house
we all lived in
back in the colorless nineties
when the music was bad -
Westlife, Take That, Spice Girls
& everyone
wore either black or blue
it seemed, on this Island
& your boys were still small
& my family holidayed in Cornwall
& I didn't yet know I could write poetry
when you move away
I shall be sorry to see you go
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 7:33 PM UTC
Environmental advice
from a re-purposed hag:
Stop driving cars.
Use a re-usable bag.
Cook dinner at home.
Adopt children, not pets.
Don't use plastic cups.
Don't eat tuna caught with nets.
Don't toss out food--
it becomes methane gas.
Stop shopping for clothes;
give consumerism a pass.
Wear natural fabrics.
Turn off extra lights.
Use solar cells.
Live the days and sleep the nights.
Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 11:14 AM UTC
we got a goldfish,
for my little boy.
a tank, some coloured grit, three plants not two,
must practise goldfish fung shu.
all the water testing guff
and of course a filter.
a sunken ship
and a treasure chest .
we paid the pirate...
and took our ***** home.
so we set Bruce.
( for that was the name chosen).
up in pride of place on sidboard.
the list, above,
was positioned after meetings of commision. water tested to the highest degree,
filter fizzing, wizzing,whirring.
Bruce swam in his bag
in the tank,
for a time as instructed.
then released to a slightly larger freedom.
he swam and swam,
golden scales a flickerin.
we, (that being, mr just about three and his dad)
fed him, watched him poo, and eventually,
read Bruce,
a bedtime tale or two.
one fish, two fish by Dr Suess went down a treat.
the little man then,
was bundled off to bed.
thoughts of Bruce left our heads.
the evening lengthened.
we retired to sleep the sleep, of ignorance it conspired.
for in our planning we forgot one thing.
a devon rex cat,
who has a bath weekly,
a penchant for tuna,
no top to the tank.
so we thank the lord
for Bruce. however,
brief was his reign.
now we introduce
to you....
Murtle the turtle
who has a glass pane,
sitting above her head.
just in case......
the cat likes, turtle soup.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
Everything thing you are about to read is the whole truth, and nothing but...
she flew
via jet blue,
da coop
decamped urban lands,
leaving poet producing this
piece de (at-the-door poem-de crap) resistance:
Sad mad bad
where I asked?
a mountain in Mexico,
where purpled pink wild flowers decorate,
and the yoga mat is never rolled up
and post pampering included!
harrumph,
and worse,
exclaimed
**NYC got florists
and yogi masters
for hire**
with my sisters,
will commune,
hike by dawn light,
eat veggies day and night
and bone my body
with exercise
**Manhattan got veggies, central parks,
and occasionally a pretty dawn,
bone doctors extraordinaire,
don't you know the best veggies,
grown in Whole Foods in the
Time Warner Center?
go then, leaving poet,
sad mad bad
to salve my soul,
know this!
I am eating
a tuna Swiss melt,
French Fries and ketchup,
Danish made with Danish cheese,
drinking my fatte latte.
This my stress,
so well expressed,
but baby, be advised,
I am doing it,
in our bed!
all day tv watching,
crushed neath an inconsolable need
to do all those spiritual things
of which you disapprove!**
you went down the long hallway
at 6am,
you thot you heard me say,
Leila, you got me on my knees!
what was said but this:
*Save me babe,
from doing as I please!*
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 10:02 AM UTC
Hi nanny how is heaven?
I wish I could see you
Nanny I miss your wonderful meals
I wish I could have your Sunday meals
Nanny I love you
Nanny i miss you
I wish you were here
I miss our I spy games
I miss spending nights
and being spoiled
Nanny say hi to grandfather and daddy for me
Hi grandfather how's heaven?
Do you see dad a lot ?
Do you see nanny ?
I hope you are all living together
Grandfather I miss you and love you
Remmber when you thought my name was Tuna lol
Grandfather I hope all is well
When heaven has visiting hours I will be the first to visit you and Nanny and Daddy
bye for now
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 2:47 PM UTC
As I opened my fridge one morning,
early on before sunrise,
I was greeted by the stench of tuna fish
which at that time came as quite a surprise.
And I poured myself a glass of orange juice,
the stronger stuff with bits in,
and then tossed yesterday’s Guardian
into the overflowing silver bin.
‘I’ll pull back the curtains’ is what I thought next,
nobody, of course, out on the street.
No sooner had I picked up the remote control
when I felt like something to eat.
‘I’ll get myself some toast’ I said in my head,
and smear it with some Marmite,
but my days, my eyes were so **** sore,
I couldn’t see if I was doing it right.
The years I’ve been waking up early,
every time it is the same,
barely making it down the stairs,
all part of God’s make-him-pay game.
But I finally sat down once more
and could now relax in front of the news,
only to see some cheery couple
with a glass of champagne on a cruise.
It made me wonder, what it would be like
if tomorrow I just stayed in bed.
Would I have an extra few hours to rest
or would somebody find me dead?
Then a van pulled up on the other side of the road,
bloke closed it with a very loud bang,
made me jump so much I spilt half my drink,
seconds later is when the phone rang.
‘Hello?’ I recognised the voice immediately,
a friend calling me at this hour?
They said how they wanted to pop round later
if it wasn’t going to be a terrible bother.
‘Sure’ I replied and then soon hung up,
my voice sounded coarse like Velcro.
Only then did my eyes see a black figure
standing right outside my window.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 4:27 PM UTC
I’m thinking of a place
With a monkey and a sled
A brand new jar of cottage cheese
Just resting on the bed
An envelope with butterflies
Upon the stamp it wears
And a basement sitting at the top
Of someone else’s stairs
~
A very special place
Where the beach is at your door
And multicolored tangerines
Will help you mop the floor
A casserole with tuna
In a bowl of cocoa beans
Where a question is an answer
Or at least that’s what it seems
~
A place where you will notice
That the sun it always shines
And toaster ovens tick away
Below the shuttered blinds
Jeopardy is on the tube
Wherever you may go
Antiques shuffle down the street
As every road will show
~
When you are in this special place
A trolley will say hi
A weeping willow sings a song
As it forgets to cry
Hibiscus on the front porch
Welcome all who do drop in
The price it has been lowered
As the morning comes again
~
You’ll see while in this special place
A necklace on a whale
And smiles at the dollar store
They always are on sale
A seagull and a crescent moon
Now share the skies above
But most of all while in this place
You’ll see that you are loved
~
You will learn this special place
It lives within my heart
To offer you a haven
When we find we are apart
A sanctuary nestled deep
That forever will be true
For here within this special place
I always will love you
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 7:15 AM UTC