Best Fizzing Poems


Cinnamon Sugar Sand..

The sun glitters on  the seas smooth surface viewed high  from a hilltop 
Light blue and  pink wrinkles shimmer irredescently  on  the ocean's skin.
Cinnamon sugar sand lapped and soaked by effervescent lemonade froth
Purple fairy  floss sponges  entwine with different size orange cone shells 
With outgoing waves Bubbles stream from the crab holes like champagne 
A symphony of ocean sounds  rumbling thunderlike  echoing hissing foam
crashing waves to the splishing , splashing, fizzing sounds of dissipating 
 froth incoming and outgoing the translucent blue sea like a fresh soda.
On the pier  the tangerine sunset reflects on the deep green glassy water...
Sea breezes blowing a cooling wind Bristling breeze  Murmmering ocean 
The cliffy hillsides carve a steep stairway to yet another hidden beach..
Like jewels dotted on the sand , these beautiful sea-rocks and shells
sit,   it seems untouched ,  lay softly embedded in the damp sand.
This  beach also yeilds  thick, green seaweed  and fossilised sponges .
Every beach has its own special seaweed , unique shells and rock shapes.
From the roadway  the dusk descends a cat  on  the beachside curb
As the light fades two more cats quietly  emerge from the shadows..
Quickly slinking out from the hollows, nooks and crannies more cats appear..
In the space of a few minutes the beach road is teeming with felines
Out of the darkness a car approaches to join this mysterious meeting.
A woman steps out of the car with parcels and the cats crowd around her..

Paroxetine

I

I am disinfected, sanitised from touch and eyes
Do not hold me. I am Bakelite and you smolder
Sat solid, the wall cold against my spine. A back-rest 
To concrete electrocution. 
I am distilled from Suburbia and Bohemian at Brandenberg
Rigid and saturnine. Heavy lidded Lichtenstein moons
And ruby lip and cheek.

Dumb-flustered and silent rictus
Nothing changes.

II

She edges closer with ostentatious mute steps. Like a bride
And thrice as white with crimson orb flowing underneath
Her caped wings and paper hat. Tiny dragging movements
As though her legs could snap

This marionette matchstick girl unfurls her bouquet of fingers intertwined
And ruffles from her drapes fragments of paper and a tiny plastic cup
I do not notice her. The bleach sticks heavy to the throat and
She envenoms me to the core stomach
She speaks. It is static heavy and foriegn, black-lipped vowels and dull
Continuations of barely literate sounds. 

My words are daggered brutes, any poetry the less of my expectations
Is instantly meaningless, crass, common, nauseous and disgusting
Her flowing prose was illegible on those lips. Sounding almost spat
I could have silenced nine decades to my two and circled her in criticism
She would never understand with her barely-English cold translations of her
Own English mother-tongue. 

III

People are fascinating
Occassionally
I find I look at them and linger, I study them and calculate their complex algebras
Undoubtedly we are products of our parents and the less of us by-products
We are strings and apples and figs

The woman with her ghost-white face and dress. Her parents were too strict
You can see it in her face, how if you even turn away her eyes circle with bags
And she feels lost, she could cry a thousand summers and undoubtedly should trade my place.
As of my own parents they probably loved me too much. Sheltered me and then 
Stopped abrupt as death and cyanide fizzing
Suddenly trading my lineage into friendship and smiles and no, do silence yourselves
I am a maypole and the strings circle about me
Life and ambition they feed upon me, draining me in complex nervous disorder
I am a living question mark
I can feel it
Eating below my skin.

Premium Member On the Other Side of a Peep Hole


They twitch along nerves
still wired to those fever 
induced rooms, memories
of faces pressed against
windows, peering in through
curtains with their red eyes,
screams stuck in throats
suffocating to a groan 
in gaping mouths.

There were places to hide
when day came around,
a dark cave inside 
an iron shed with pale 
constellations of old nail holes
feigning starlight overhead.
The world was kept
on the other side 
of a peep hole
in the wall of the shed.

And yet there were lovely 
flowers blooming
under a bright sun,
the day would carry on
with the ordinary things
that had to be done. 
Terror would wear off
and morph into something
else instead, normalized
by the trick 
of becoming numb, 
or be little more than
a slight disturbance 
fizzing in the wiring 
of the head. 

Besides,
who would understand
when what was there 
has now moved 
way beyond the vocabulary 
of a word weary tongue.


Premium Member Dormant

I have so many poems
dormant within my psyche
sitting waiting for a cull

midst fizzing to the surface
words circle above my head
in iridescent bubbles
dancing hovering in flight

the songbird fledgings soaring
seeing which take to the perch
as I hold out pen or finger



Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~IN THE GARDEN OF MY FANTASY~ 2023

AP: 2nd place 2023, Honorable Mention 2020

Premium Member The Summer of Nineteen Sixty

The Summer of Nineteen Sixty

Lying on a blanket by the loch side on a summer’s day
I close my eyes and listen to the quiet.
I hear the slap, slap of the small wavelets lapping on the pebbles and
The plop of some brave fish as he twists and turns his way through the cool green water.
 Above my head I hear the distinct call of the peewit and can imagine him hovering high in the 
sky.
Into this calm comes the soft rustle of the rowan tree, then, the more stringent sound of a wicker 
basket being opened.
I smile for I know what comes next. 
The chink of crystal glasses, followed by the pop of a champagne bottle being uncorked. 
I open my eyes to see my lover smiling at me. 
Glug, glug, the sparkling liquid pours from the neck of the bottle.
 I reach out and take the glass of fizzing bubbles, unable to keep my eyes from straying to the 
new diamond sparkling on my finger. 
And in my mind I hear again the words of love he whispered a few minutes ago. 
These, to me, will ever be the sounds of the summer nineteen hundred and sixty.

The Witch's Birthday Bash Part 2

Just when they thought the house was pristine
They were blinded by flashes, purple and green
A psychedelic flare shot up through the roof
Then crashed back down with a loud, smoky POOF!

It hissed and it fizzled in the middle of the room
They all backed away from the kaleidoscopic plume
But before they could leave there was an almighty flash
Then an explosion that ended in an ear-banging crash

When the smoke cleared they all looked around
The house had been razed all the way to the ground
The cat's fur was singed, the furniture was dust
The guest's clothes were blackened, their expressions nonplussed

The goblin was fizzing, the ogre displeased
"Well this was a disaster!" the scorched elves teased
The fairy was frowning at her charred, blackened wings
Whilst the pixies were playing in the soot, of all things

Suddenly the witch burst into pained tears
This debacle had confirmed her very worst fears
She'd never tried to have a birthday party before
And after today, she wouldn't try to any more

Her sobs were so desperate, so sad, so forlorn
That her friends felt quite guilty for showing such scorn
They each gave her a hug and said not to fret
The party wasn't done; at least not yet!

"You see," said the wizard, "the house might be charred,
But we can always continue in your perfect back yard
The witch looked at her friends with hope in her eyes
And felt the cloud of despair beginning to rise

"Do you mean it?" she asked, her tears drying up
"Yes," they all smiled, "let's get it set up!"
They used all of their skills and magical tricks
To create a new party; it was really quite slick

Then for the finale the ogre did bake
An amazingly huge strawberry cake
The witch blew out the candles and made her wish
Before sampling the cake, which was simply delish!

She looked at her friends, her smile so bright
"I'm so lucky to have you, you're all a delight!"
The beamed at the praise too touched to respond
And nobody noticed the still sparking wand...
© Jenni Munn  Create an image from this poem.


Fireworks

Fireworks!

Lights sparkling
Ruby delight
Fizzing, whizzing
Glistening night

Bright diamonds
Golden rain
Blasting, rasping 
Again and again

Rays flashing 
Shattered drops
Dashing, splashing
Cannon ball shots

Wild explosions 
Busting high 
Booming, zooming
Bejewelled sky 

 Folks laughing
Gusty cheers
Glimmering, shimmering 
Chandeliers

A Wine Connoisseur and Life-Not For Contest

A wine connoisseur and Life

Trickling pearls of red and white
The sizzling hot, the fizzing out
Pinot noir, Reisling, Chardonnay
Teroldego, Norton , Carbanet
Deliverance from all the doubts
As he sees, swirls, sniffs, sips, savors
For once he chooses, its best of world
The embroidered sweet drops with finest taste
The embellished pearly drops with blissful tizz
Oenophile's stemware filled with recherche expertise
Like a bagpiper playing best among best of tunes!
Floats our life's canoe over varied wines of emotions
We the connoisseurs  need to take the tasting flight
And drink  from bottles of right emotions
And drink from glasses poured in blends of doses right
To row the canoe through smoothest wines, 
exotic choices we ought to make...
And enjoy the tizz of happiness,
Savor the taste of contentment,
Relish the sparkling journey
of life to cherish a vintage life!

©Anulaxmi Nayak, 2015

( had to drop it for contest as this exceeded 13 lines...)
© Anu Nayak  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Night of the Owl

Winds cry
Shiny slimies 
I see you
A fuzz fringe fizzing 
Across peek-a-boo moon
Croo croo night 
I love you too

Heart thumps with the 
Crickety crickets on the
Brown fence pickets
Pounds with the sounds 
Of warm, neighborly chatter
Dishes clatter

Here we go
A B-22 coming' in 
Out of the black
I am gorgeous
Cry the winds

2/6/16

Drip Drop

Blown with the wind, came I
With Orion, screened from the sight;
Yet with the constellation sighted 
In the glass of life.

By my window, the rowdy wind 
Picks up the pace and funnels the air
In turbid haste.

I, the eye of the storm, saddled
On the morning maze,
Pricked up and pinched with the chill of your gust.

Drip drop, dripping, clinking,clanking
Life's fluid vibe beguiles the 'witches cauldron'
The ominous count of moisture of life
Fizzing up and flowing straight
To the Bay I look 
From my window-pane.

The wind would pick and the wind would fall
The train of flossy images hangs over Bay of Bengal.
© Sadat Khan  Create an image from this poem.

Horrors of Extiction

I did see the buoyant bubbles of bliss
fizzing out of my charming muse's smile.
A bubbly butterfly that she is,
was fluttering and whirling around me with verve.
She was so excited to explore the beauty of nature
and capture some thrilling moments as remembrance
for me to string those rosy memories
into pretty festoons of verses and rhymes.
But alas, she went and came back with an ashen face
and harsh rock-hard facts; when hit by those...
causes insufferable pain.
With angst, I deliver this grievous message
about the horrors of extinction inflicted upon Mother Earth
by the very superlative breed of hers with ravenous greed
they feed on everything to suffice their need to succeed.
An empire of dreams they want to build
on grave of ailing nature.

Enchanting hues of dawn and dusk are overshadowed
by hazy clouds of smoke that smothers each breath.
Economic growth thriving on combustion of fossil fuels.

Always caring to reap more than they sow,
countless trees are brutally chopped and their trace effaced
in the name of luxurious development.
Where once they stood with their crowns held high in the sky
and welcoming arms extended for shelter and shade
to so many birds and animals, are now replaced by
concrete towers and skyscrapers.
Bravo, such a triumph for axes, chainsaws and bulldozers!

Succulent fruits and vegetables sweetened with saccharin
and their skin rubbed with wax for sheen.
Plumper they are because of hormone injections.

Soil fertilized by corporate compost
and irrigated with water that is not crystal anymore.
Every drop is infused with wasted toxic chemicals
and surges the stench of disposed garbage
that begets monstrous diseases.
Even the depths of the oceans are not safe
as marine creatures are dying and lying on the shoreline.
Cheers to the sewage that adds to the quality of water!

A paradise that provided us life is pleading for mercy,
to be saved from the hellfire that we are stoking.
Do we really wish to be the curse for such a blessing?


Date: 06/28/2017

Chemistry

Our friends used to say that the two of us had chemistry. Their little in house joke.

Strangers took it to mean we got along great.

What they actually meant was stable when separate abut volatile when mixed.

It was true. Though I was blind to it at the time.

How could I not be? I was in love.

He was everything. The other half of me.

I felt it whenever he was near.

Maybe that was the chemistry?

Like sodium and sulphuric acid; slowly fizzing, heating up and up and up until the inevitable explosion that finally tears through destroying everything in its 
path.

It was a long time coming.

But when it came it hit hard and fast and left little unscathed.

He was the best thing that ever happened to me.

I'll never say any different. Even now.

But he was also the worst of me.

And I was the worst of him.

It was no one's fault really.

Not his. 

Not mine.

We just...had chemistry.

Premium Member Imagine

Often there are times wild imagination,
leads to a lasting sensational elation.Quote: Poet’s own
Imagine
Imagine having no bed to sleep on
When it's cold outside and winter drags on
Or carrying all you own on the streets
Depending on handouts so one may eat.

Imagine there’s no one to kiss or hug
No warm embraces to show you are loved
Having no place on earth you can call home
And fun and laughter is simply unknown.
*+*
Imagine living a rich man's story
With diamonds and pearls an added glory
Not having to worry how to survive 
Dancing through life with a heart that can jive.

Imagine those who aid people in need
Truly a grand gesture it is indeed
To share one's wealth that their work has attained
Would be so worthy of being proclaimed.
*+*
Imagine life filled with abundant love
Spreading the gift sent from heaven above
Love revives the heart and soul that’s deprived
Drying the tears that fall from mournful eyes.

Imagine sparkling, fizzing as champagne
When in love hearts beat alike express trains
Time goes by in a superb rendition
Love changes everyone from collision.
*+*
Imagine existing in earthly peace
Where all folk on earth could fearlessly sleep
To have children raised in calm harmony
Learning to live and love deservedly.

Imagine holding hands across nations
What it’d do for future generations
The glorious world that God created
Would nevermore become desecrated.
*+*

3rd March 2023

Writing Challenge - I Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France 
Word chosen: no.6 - imagine

Action and Reaction

My final argument has to be the coda
but it has not been good for me
I cant keep fizzing like a can of soda
like a tepid tea is what I have to be

It is hard to accept that I am the captain
no matter the situation I am going through
and work harder for what is going to happen
and don't allow any jerk to make me blue

But the fact is that I have the reins
to control the horse I want to ride
and I can go farther, beyond the plains
It is about being proactive, not about pride ?

Love Potion Number 9

Wearing thick glasses
and braces on her buck teeth,
Professor Harriet carried
her pile of books while accidentally 
stepping into the wet cement,
going into her lab to go wash up,
afterwards she decided to work 
on a different kind of experiment,
tired of feeling nutty, mousey,
klutzy and insecure,
she whipped up a concoction
that would surely help her to score,
having a mad crush on one of
the other professors who also
like her had a very high I.Q.,
she wanted a relationship
that was more than "how
do you do?"
taking the lab beakers and
mixing her ingredients,
she guzzled down the
fizzing liquid speedily,
feeling at once more
attractive and confident,
this time when outside she
stepped around the wet cement,
going into the professor's break
room for a bite to eat,
she saw Professor Jerry
and sat beside him in 
an empty seat,
batting her eyes and smiling
all the while,
Professor Jerry asked if something
was wrong with her eye,
Harriet nodded no and shook her
hair out of her bun,
swirling her long mane all around
and getting hair in all hers and 
Prof. Jerry's open stunned mouth,
she apologized and asked Jerry out,
Jerry blushed, got up, tripped
and fell down,
saying shyly with his buck
teeth, "I guess so, why not!"
Harriet said how about after school,
he fumbled for his composure
and finally said, "alright!"
So a couple of hours later
Professor Harriet got ready 
for her first date at age 38,
still feeling attractive and
confident at any rate,
all at once hearing her
door bell ring on time,
making sure she had an
extra dose for her date
of love potion number 9...
6 months later they
got married and settled
in the suburbs,
where today they live with
their 3 little kids who like them
wear thick glasses and
are all nutty brainiacs!

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