Gumball Poetry - Poetry by Chocolate Waters

Chocolate Waters

Walter

You stumble down the street,
bat at the children with knotty cane,
lurch sideways
like Charlie Chaplain,
Godzilla leer a smear
across your face.
You must be 90.
Crazy old crotchety coot,
dragging up my hallway 2 a.m. drunk.
Underneath your ragged arms you
clutch your latest trashy treasure:
metal chair with three bent legs.
Your cursed voice
clangs against each beaten stair.

What are you doing here, Walter,
taking up his space,
breathing up my father's air?

Chocolate Waters lives in New York City.

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Post a review of this poem.

3.11.2001
nada from new york, ny

POWERFUL
As a woman who has lost her father this poem really hit home. Thank you for putting my feelings into words.

3.04.2001
nadu from tulsa, ok

super!
i get a great picture of this cranky old man - i kind of like him :-) - the ending is a killer!

2.09.2001
avanti200 from st. johns., nova scotia

nice edge, baby!

1.28.2001
R.Burton from St. Louis, MO

It's an unfinished poem.
It's an unfinished poem. The author seems unsure of what he (she?) wants to say. It seems strange to me that he misspelt "Charlie Chaplin." Then again, perhaps he was thinking about something else besides the famous actor. It might be interesting what the poem looks like once it is finished.