Best Fizzle Poems
Too many hurricanes are causing havoc this season. We might as well have a limerick collaboration about them since they seem to be in the news. Please join in by sending me your limerick in a soup mail or email.
Hurricane Maria is the latest ole windbag
She'll huff and puff till her eye walls sag
She's blowin' in the tropics
Catastrophic among topics
Heed the warning of that hoisted red flag
by: Lin Lane
I’ve heard Maria’s cooking up a storm
Pack your bags and head where it’s warm
She’ll cause such destruction
Which will lead to disruption
These old wind bags, they never conform!
These hurricanes really don’t care
Tossing houses right into the air
They’re a bane in our life
Like an old nagging wife
It's no wonder that folks cus and swear!
by: Jan Allison
Oh Maria I hope you just fizzle out
You're so full of wind with a nagging spout
Hurry and disappear
Blow on out of here
We're tired of that same old raspy shout
by: Tim Smith
Oh Maria, we have had enough
We don't want to see you puff
We don't want to stress
Or clean up your mess!
Just weaken, and stop acting tough!
by: Heidi Sands
Oh bad Maria, you have gotten so volatile
Blow yourself out and make people smile
Or maybe there's a chance
Another name you'll enhance
Hurricane Madness sounds very erstwhile
by: Seren Roberts
Cinder's sits on the toilet in fear
Of the ugly sisters to appear
Irma arrives there first
Maria next to burst
gave cinder's chronic diarrhea
by: Roy Pett
This is what life’s all about:
We barrel in and totter out.
Along the way, we smile or pout
And try our best to conquer doubt.
We may be rebels or devout,
Remain unnoticed or have clout,
Yet we survive, in flood or drought,
Our whispers rising to a shout
As we fight in our final bout;
Then, like a candle, fizzle out.
WARNING: The following poem is a figment of the author's imagination and deals with fictional characters.....MEN! ;) (THIS IS FOR FUN, MEN, SO DON'T GO AND GET ALL HUFFY AND PUFFY ON ME!)
Fickle fickle…men are fickle
Get the women in a pickle
Sweet talk sweet talk…how they tickle
Treat a treasure like a nickle
Chat up chat up and then lie
Sugared bites of ego pie
Flirty flirty….brew a storm
Dissipate then like the norm
Riding riding on her wave
Naughty naughty to the grave
Feel up feel up where he can
Make her think that he's a….MAN
Swagger swagger, what a sight!
Thinking he's got dynamite
Tries to see how far he'll get
Up to third base is his bet
Fickle fickle, fizzle….pop
Mess with me, I’ll make you drop!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Never was good at humor! This is as good as it gets with me!
champagne toast ~
hopes and dreams for the new year fizz before they fizzle
Susan Ashley
December 28, 2017
~ Second Place ~
Contest: Monoku 2: New Year
Sponsor: Silent One
Wheels of life overtake busy hours
racing along fast highway of time,
and jammed thoughts forget sunset’s delight
while roses, once in love, stoop... tires fizzle,
even when the hills fondle the peaks
of embossed leaves, there are no hours
for leisure on the streams, not yet.
Still, when evanescent light
envelopes all things tender and dusk floats
along a wing of clouds, He waits there...
The shepherd becoming one of his sheep
guiding freely, moving quietly
content as breath of air,
telling me to listen softly where
a fragile voice awakens a hum
within my bosom... a Source unseen
yet felt deeply, as if to comfort
this restless spirit that the journey lies
in not asking why, but trusting
how, in silence, He waits with me.
Richard Lamoreux's Tell Me
3/31/2015
Chillin' with my Diet Coke
out here in the sun.
Iced caffeine with a fizzle
is my number one
refresher. . . .
Ahhhhhhhhhhh!
For Nathan's Coffee House Contest
My
birthday
joy brings sweet
treats of cake and
ice cream, loving smiles
warm me as well wishes
abound. The flames burn brightly
as they flutter and twinkle and
my happiness shows as I wish a
wish on each of them and blow them all out.
As one by one they fizzle my life flicks
before me, each season but a frame,
in this film, I'm the star, but the
celluloid images fade
into distance, like each
grain in an hour glass,
moments slip past
me and my
flame burns
out.
03/07/16
A pale, ghostly moon rises
at night when the day is done.
And orange and tangerine
get bled from a crimson sun.
Space is draped in black velvet,
pinned with galaxies of light.
And swirls of gold filigree
confetti the dark of night.
Twirling pulsars and quasars
provide rhythm, spinning in place.
And in this cosmic ballet,
gravity maintains the pace.
Mars ascends in shades of red;
evoking passion and praise.
Securing Her rightful place;
Venus appears through the haze.
And shooting stars fizzle out
within the blink of an eye.
For the kingdom of magic
is as near as the night sky.
An old herbal gard’ner turned bard
dedicated and well-versed
now works his pen from his backyard
in plants and poems immersed.
His choice nouns engender meaning
cleverly minted with scents.
Rare verbs gingerly gleaning
from time’s savory essence.
Somewhat focused on composing
but nettled by a drizzle;
unexpected down-hosing
causes this poet to fizzle.
Lo! His inspiration now gone
like the ink upon his page.
Mrs. Bard calls from the lawn
“I just watered the sage.”
January 5, 2012
Together, we'd swim the depths of our souls,
splashing and playing in love's limpid pools.
And we'd adopt each other's hopes and goals,
love-struck teenagers and romantic fools.
Holding hands, we'd stare at the stars all night,
stealing kisses when no one was around.
And we'd ogle the sky until first light,
watching shooting stars fizzle earthward bound.
And we felt we were both blessed somehow,
confident our love would last forever.
But it didn't; that was then, this is now,
and we no longer believe in never.
Living is a time capsule in itself,
where childish dreams collect dust on a shelf.
It’s the fourth - fireworks; the fizzle of stars.
The colorful display of power of the people —
waving of the red, white and blue; freedom
rings, slowly, building to a crescendo
to include all the melting pot called the USA.
Resilience and fortitude; weathered the wilderness
where an unlearned cabin-patch man snatches
every book his hands can capture, then captures
our hearts, tall, even taller with his top hat —
a silk black band added after his beloved son
Willie dies. Lincoln, a man who united us
in the favor of freedom, freedom that frees the pandemic
of slavery, the dark history of whips and chains. And
furthermore we ask, “Why oh why…”
when headway is made do men continue to suffer
and hang from trees, crosses burned.
And all good men suffer with them, the agony of evil —
it was to be stamped out, and the white hoods snatched
off crazytown. If one truly believes in God, then he loves,
not hates, his fellowman and each wants the best for him —
of education, family, boundless freedom and desires
to hold hands — building a chain, not of rust, but of
trust. And we sing out, “God bless America.”
I visited the WWII museum in New Orleans. A flat map
showed the takeover of the world by forces of evil. Almost
the entire world of East and West lit up — it took my breath
away. What power quenched the burning furnaces, the
torture of peoples? When America stood up, under
the banner of “In God We Trust,” the hellfires, not
easily squelched, the brave, the spirit of the wilderness
gave all, they fought to set the captives free. Men, in general,
are not perfect but the fight for freedom is a worthy cause
and the sanity of a sound mind, a candlelight vigil of veracity
is one to be stoked. Do we continue
to fight each other, dividing, drawing lines, or pull
each other into big sloppy hugs and love’s kisses.
God bless this union called America; God’s mercy
invites us to sing with one voice; freedom’s choice.
It’s the fourth - fireworks; the fizzle of stars.
The colorful display of power of the people —
waving of the red, white and blue; freedom
rings, slowly, building to a crescendo
to include all the melting pot called the USA.
7/4/2020
Written: October 1st 2023
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the ocean of silence, I’m stunned
Astonish by its grandeur as I descend.
A comely curtain of conciliatory calm
Elapse the chaos, surreptitious and warm.
In the hushed embrace of the twilight sky,
A silence plummets, ambrosial all nearby.
Astonied hearts stand in solicitous awe.
A comely night implies her ethereal flaw.
Emollient whispers waft into the air.
Surreptitious secrets are shared with care.
Incipient stars start their gentle wafture,
Surreal leaves create a ripple in nature.
Mellifluous melodies mend meteoric might,
Fugacious flimsies that fizzle out of a fight
Gossamer moonbeams cast their diaphanous glow,
Creating an aura of silence, tranquility, and bestow.
Ineffable fairness, fiercely feisty, not frigid,
The break of dawn silenced, as if timid.
Saturnine secrets shrank in secrecy.
Stupendous silence slides, sinewy spree.
Lull launders, looping the limp land,
As warblers start with a duteous band,
Sullen clouds gather, ominous and dark.
Yet awestruck hearts find solace in calm remarks.
Reassuringly, the heavy silence lingers.
Dour faces are glum, yet prudent fingers
Guide the oxymoron of emotions that flow,
Glowering and divine in their quiet glow
In the gloomy hush, discretion gleans hold,
As discerning minds decry peace in the fold,
The prudent ones, with a discreet glance,
Understand the power of silence dance.
Glum faces settle in quiet repose.
Views deepen, and worries dispose
Astounded by stillness, they are in awe.
Of absolute peace that stillness can draw.
Awestricken by the amorphous depth it brings,
They decry solace in the lull that silence sings.
A curtain of calm tumbles, amazed and serene.
As the amorphous depth of quiet is felt and seen.
Inauspicious cruxes balmily soothe fears.
As diaphanous whispers softly, quell tears.
Hinky hearts hearkens a hypothesis behind,
A voice uttered, "Love silence will never hide".
No query or qualm can squeal this bond.
Silence is where my peace is dulcet fond.
In the hushed embrace of the twilight sky,
Silence reigns, and my love will never die.
I was running up the mountain,
Just dog tired,
Suffering,
My mind drifting
Between the Infinite Rift.
My Aumakua (spirit animal) stops on a branch nearby.
He starts to chirp a mile a minute.
I cannot understand him.
For a second I imagine his chirps as something other than sounds.
This is what the little bird might have said,
"If Friends come and go
Enemies must
Stay and stop
Or what happens
If I don't think?
Does that mean
I am not?
Could I just fizzle away
into the immaterial matter in the air?
Become one with the universe,
Dissipate like the wind
Which has a pulse and a spirit
And a really bad temper.
The wind gets really pissed
If you break its rules.
For every reaction
There is a bell that goes off in a parallel universe
And two porcupines make love very carefully
Until one of them pokes the other
In the way that poking is bad..."
I put my finger in my ear, and realize the bird is still chirping and chattering, But for some
reason I can't understand him any more. Maybe I never could.
-Joseph DeMarco
The cadent curls recede upon the shore,
with fizzle sounds like brushes on a drum,
their once brave tune declined forevermore,
beneath the growing shades of a beach plum.
The shadow fingers stretch along the beach,
to close the eyelids of a sleepy sun,
on the horizon nodding her last speech,
her closing song, as her best time is done.
Yet, she leaves fervent images behind,
reprints of joyous moments on the sand,
or backwash from tides pounding so unkind,
a montage of love sketches super grand.
Before the final twilight curtain’s drawn,
seek to bask in the wonders of each dawn.
Now she's here
and now she's there,
flittering and flying
through the hours in a day,
laughing now, then crying.
Her moods are fleeting,
they grasp her in a flash
then just as fast they fizzle
like a firework in the rain.
Would that she were constant
like the moon!
self-directed, self-assured,
without a care,
but she is wayward,
ever flickering,
fluttering,
floundering,
more there than anywhere.