Dropping Tomato Bombs








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Autoplay OFF   •   4 months ago
I've been watching a lot of spoken poetry lately and I tried to write my own. I might record it one day, but for now, just imagine a confused-accented British teenager is speaking this. XD Thank you for reading. <3

Dropping Tomato Bombs

I told her I don't like tomato

I told her I don't like tomato but she silences me faster than a jet plane skidding through air.

I told her I don't like tomato but she silences me faster than a jet plane skidding through air. She has me chopping onions,

I told her I don't like tomato but she silences me faster than a jet plane skidding through air. She has me chopping onions, she knows they make me cry

I told her I don't like tomato but she silences me faster than a jet plane skidding through air. She has me chopping onions, she knows they make me cry but the TV blaring in the corner drowns it out,

it cuts through the atmosphere

it cuts through the atmosphere like a warm knife through the butter I once mistakenly placed in the freezer.

it cuts through the atmosphere like a warm knife through the butter I once mistakenly placed in the freezer. I see pictures, visions of blood,

it cuts through the atmosphere like a warm knife through the butter I once mistakenly placed in the freezer. I see pictures, visions of blood, blades blooming roses hilt-deep in chests.

Grandma, I say. Look, look over there.

Grandma, I say. Look, look over there. Tomatoes by the dozen are moved out of my eye line

Grandma, I say. Look, look over there. Tomatoes by the dozen are moved out of my eye line and only three unlucky ones are left.

Grandma, I say. Look, look over there. Tomatoes by the dozen are moved out of my eye line and only three unlucky ones are left. Forget the soup, she says.

Now we're making curry.

Now we're making curry. Typical grandma, always changing her mind

Now we're making curry. Typical grandma, always changing her mind like the wind changes directions or the neighbours with their insults.

They say she's a terrorist, spitting slurs on her

They say she's a terrorist, spitting slurs on her and me when we walk to the shop around the corner

They say she's a terrorist, spitting slurs on her and me when we walk to the shop around the corner going about our daily business,

They say she's a terrorist, spitting slurs on her and me when we walk to the shop around the corner going about our daily business, her scarf waving a friendly 'hello' whilst flapping around her head.

They walk around us as if tip-toeing in a field of ticking metal eggs

They walk around us as if tip-toeing in a field of ticking metal eggs where a foot misplaced would birth a new destruction;

They walk around us as if tip-toeing in a field of ticking metal eggs where a foot misplaced would birth a new destruction; or maybe they think they're hopping on eggshells already,

They walk around us as if tip-toeing in a field of ticking metal eggs where a foot misplaced would birth a new destruction; or maybe they think they're hopping on eggshells already, when they look at her and see an enemy.

But all I see is a crooked back like a bent spoon in a strong grip

But all I see is a crooked back like a bent spoon in a strong grip from when she was uprooted,

But all I see is a crooked back like a bent spoon in a strong grip from when she was uprooted, carried her family home upon her back,

But all I see is a crooked back like a bent spoon in a strong grip from when she was uprooted, carried her family home upon her back, her children and cooking basin wrapped around her with a scarf,

secured in the silence of a search for 'The Promised Land'.

secured in the silence of a search for 'The Promised Land'. No better than the war-torn country she fled some thirty years ago.

I want to say to the accusatory glares

I want to say to the accusatory glares that grandma doesn't sit down

I want to say to the accusatory glares that grandma doesn't sit down with a frown,

I want to say to the accusatory glares that grandma doesn't sit down with a frown, in this old side of town

I want to say to the accusatory glares that grandma doesn't sit down with a frown, in this old side of town to a bearded man with a gilded smile

I want to say to the accusatory glares that grandma doesn't sit down with a frown, in this old side of town to a bearded man with a gilded smile where his beam is a dagger thrust against an innocent throat.

The bread basket is not littered with bombs

The bread basket is not littered with bombs but rather help yourself to a piece, she made them

The bread basket is not littered with bombs but rather help yourself to a piece, she made them the day you turned your noses and spat at her doorstep.

Her food is a comfort, not a poison

Her food is a comfort, not a poison and we eat upon a table under the dim light of a thrift shop chandelier-

Her food is a comfort, not a poison and we eat upon a table under the dim light of a thrift shop chandelier- we are no poorer or richer than yourselves and we do not wish

for our worn checkered tablecloth to wave dominance,

for our worn checkered tablecloth to wave dominance, forced into a ground stained with lost lives,

for our worn checkered tablecloth to wave dominance, forced into a ground stained with lost lives, like tomato juice soaking into thirsty terrain.

I wish I could say all this

I wish I could say all this and so

I wish I could say all this and so, so much more

I wish I could say all this and so, so much more but its stuck in my throat, a morsel of bread

I wish I could say all this and so, so much more but it's stuck in my throat, a morsel of bread washed down with a sip of guilt;

instead,

instead, I reach for my bowl of curry and see the tomatoes have disappeared

instead, I reach for my bowl of curry and see the tomatoes have disappeared just like our history.

Grandma tells me in between bites that maybe,

Grandma tells me in between bites that maybe, we can change the world, and so she dishes up curry for the neighbours,

Grandma tells me in between bites that maybe, we can change the world, and so she dishes up curry for the neighbours, (knowing they won't take it.)

Maybe,

Maybe, she repeats,

Maybe, she repeats, I can write my own recipe.

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