"bubbly" poems
That silly feeling inside,
Bubbly or fluttery?
I can't decide.
It's as if a million butterflies are just there,
Underneath your skin tickling you without a care,
They want you to know that these feelings are rare.
Embrace them don't push them.
Just let them happen.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 7:36 AM UTC
That confident and bubbly person I was yesterday?
She's gone now
She was too fake to live long in this world
But I'm here. You can call me bipolar
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC
Benign, benevolent ballerina bubbly bathing by beautiful blossoming balsams.
A gander I took and I was a statue, still, allured, and enchanted. my lips basted by beauty, before her I was an apparition, lost in forests of adulation.
A vanishing spirit soon to be a vestige of a vestige. I shall wage wars, arm myself and battle my way to her hands that can melt the glaciers residing in my heart.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 7:13 AM UTC
If I sung you to sleep,
what would you dream?
of mystery and madness?
of love and revenge?
of spiralling staircases, culminating
swiftly in a pool
of swirling fear?
Starfish –
sleep slowly,
sleep soundly.
Stretch bubbly limbs that
are kissed by the shore,
hugged by the sea.
This cove
of creeping creatures,
they slip and slime
like a plastic bag
of goldfish.
What will you dream?
of memories:
when you were swept
away from the sea
to dry on the sand
like a limpet?
Bubbling, giggling,
blobbing starfish:
sleeping, sliding,
slipping out of place,
slipping out
of starfish dreams.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 5:36 AM UTC
She sees things of beauty in all that she see
And what's beautiful to her seems ugly to me
What to her is a flower to me is a ****
We do seem so different so different indeed.
The window of her soul is open to light
She always seems happy and bubbly and bright
And her type of person a pleasure to know
For beauty goes with her where-ever she go.
Of those who are different good things she does say
And for to help out others she goes out of her way
She helps out the homeless and those in dire poverty
I do not know of anyone as great as she.
And sad to think her type are becoming more rare
For the poor and downtrodden she genuinely does care
To the most worthy causes her work free time she devote
Yet she is not seen as one worthy of note.
A beautiful person with a heart of gold
And surely her story deserves to be told
Not proud of her beauty and free of conceit
And people like her one does not often meet.
Apr 25, 2010
Apr 25, 2010 at 5:57 PM UTC
She walks by without a clue
Her bubbly personality and bright *** shoes
Laughter gush and spills, free and loose
Joyous even in the way she moves
She wears the world as hot as red lipstick
Explores herself and what’s not listed
Follows the rules but just has to break them
Sings in the night, when no one listens
The sun comes out when she’s ready to play
Curls bounce as she walks my way
She doesn't even know
Has never been touched with a lovers kiss
But she loves deeper than anyone I have met
Cares so deep, hugs so sure
Trusts so venerable, loyal for sure
She isn’t the rainbow
A color undiscovered
The flavor of happy, the taste of song
Flies like a bird, dancing in the lawn
Climbing trees, hanging in the park
Sharing her stories, girl likes to talk'
She doesn't even know that she is
My shining star, little piece of bliss
Showing the way when things get hard
Laughing when I cry
Cry when I laugh so hard
She doesn't even know
She’s my window in to happy
When it’s no ware else to be found
My excitement when my life is turned upside down
Noise that needs to happen
Hug I need to have
Person I know will be there
The smiles that’s for sure
Liesel you’re my happy pill
The one for sure cure.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 12:05 AM UTC
My dear summers dream was to the taste cream
Pass me the triple beam the microphone fiend
Back on the scene simplicity is your complexity
So amazingly like grace I be rockin' the place
Like we Studio 54 shut down the doors
Once the bubbly pours and the **** adores
Ya mental **** ya sentimentals and these new aged millennials
They too satirical I make miracles flow potholes
Creatin' mass mayhem your an inconvenience
Cuz of ya hesitance my presence is known
Without even being shown paragraphs of stone
Hard to crack waxing tracks like a shark attack
Felonious acts we never back down
Til my soul drown in the core of the earth
Royalties since birth new my worth they tried to mirth
At my pain tryna change the game cuz all these cowards
Saying the same thang got dang got dang
Time to chess box like Wu Tang leavin' a stain
On ya reign no tears though I'll be on solo
Rippin' up instrumentals ya know how we do so...yeahhh
From the Sunny to bees that make the honey
Sticky icky like my spliffs be call me smokey
Puttin' fire to mother natures forests check the creases I
unleashes
Rap game mafiaso so so better back back
Or else get dropped lika Domino so here we go!
Here we go!
With the ghetto jams love girls with the derriere's of Pam
Got **** once again it's time to slam
Mics harder than Shawn Kemp ya flows shrimp
That's why ya girl calls me Mr **** no limp
Slick as Rick hello young world tilt and a whirl
Catch the swirl of Qatar Pearls on the neck of ya girl
Suckas better know I'm coming with a blow
Harder than Bowe combined with a super glow
black Saiyan raps slayin' turntables layin'
So I can get wicked lyrics Pickett
like Wilson
Flows in unison formation
of words
Herds a violent surge
feel the purge
We high rising no disguisin'
knockin' out Suckas who jivin' ain't none survivin' ?
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC
They're huddled 'round their periodic lunch tables,
square and socially pyramidal,
and I'm at the bottom.
But they're just fluorine factions,
bullies at heart trying to steal my e-lectricity
with their negativity.
Because I'm light,
Ultra-violet violence to the eyes,
Magnesium burning.
Anti-matter meets matter.
And that catalytic, cataclysmic energy is attractive.
And they see me. They see, see, see,
But I've got too many Cs on this side of my false, metallic personality.
I'd better balance myself
Or I'm not getting a good reaction.
Classic ionic, ironic idiocy.
I've bonded with you,
just compounding the issues.
'Cause you're a complete acetate without a solution:
now all I've got are problems.
Dot Diagrams are dotted lines separating you from me,
because over the years what was a bond
became a partially negative charge
against me.
I was your oxygen, and you were carbon
-ated, bubbly and explosive.
We would Combust.
But now all's left but to see, oh, two
of your new girlfriends flanking your sides,
'cause we've decomposed, split, gone off to better things.
Monatomic monotones lace my speech,
and I'm pining for something to complete this emp-d shell
that is myself.
'Cause I miss what we had.
We had chemistry.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
1 eyes meet
2 a smile
3 bubbly conversation
4 hang out for a while
5 no sleeping we're on the phone
6 just when things seem great..no reply
7 suddenly feel alone
8 cry
9 move on with time
10 another pair meet mine
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
A bubbly baby
A tiny toddler
A cute child
An intolerable teen
An angry adult
The grumpy elderly
To people around the world, no matter your age, have you ever stopped to think about how much you can learn from each different generation?
You might not get a wise piece of advice, but you can see life through a new lens tinted with the color hope, and you can gain experience without even experiencing.
Think about that next time you go to badmouth a parent, disrespect an elder, or even chastise you child.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 1:52 PM UTC
Black girls are the most juicy and sweet candies in the world: melanin masterpiece of nature, bubbly as sweet soda. Dark skin color is the most pleasant and sweet light color. Skin is like chocolate candy, sugar-marmalade taste of lips, only a dark-skinned girl can give the most juicy, juicy and sweet kiss with her big sensual lips. The skin is soft as chocolate sponge cake. Her skin shines beautifully in the light like jam, soft body parts like pudding. Lips and intimate places are so sweet as if juicy, hot, hot dark chocolate, feet like ice cream waffles. The color of her skin is like a sweet delicacy, a gorgeous dessert, sweet chocolate cream, chocolate mousse, an unforgettable sugar taste and you get into the taste, skin as if emitting hot moans of *** The blacker, the juicier and sweeter the skin, juicy relish, the hotter its sexuality and passion, like a panther with strikingly beautiful eyes, like a powerful magnet beckons to itself, fascinating for its beauty.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 12:52 AM UTC
My mom sleeps early.
She isn't a night owl.
She lives in the day.
And everything around when
the sky is bright.
the streets are loud.
She leaves the house at 9pm. sharp
And went off in her snores.
My dad stays up late.
Until twelve.
And when the last 60 seconds
ended the day.
He'd turn off the TV
"Has been a long day"
he'd say.
Yawn.
And he'd go to bed.
And me.
I'm no bubbly girl.
or pretty.
cheesy blondy.
Maybe just a good nerd.
But I know the night.
And I love it.
1a.m. is free.
My private afternoon.
with cookies and tea.
And I'd turn on the lights.
Walk with my ankles light
off the ground.
Turtle hasn't sleep.
no he's like me!
He'd wiggle his tail and
swim
towards my face.
As if to say,
"heya buddie"
he should have eaten but
he knows.
he knows.
I feed my Turtle at
one
in the morning.
And he never says no.
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
When I look into the mirror
And stare at my own reflection
I see a stranger sneering at me
I see the patch of dark around my eyes
I see my hair going grey
I see the blotchy skin and wrinkles on my face
It all makes me think
How rapid is the flight of youth
Once I was a bubbly girl
Full of charm with dreamy eyes
The golden vistas cheered my heart
In my dreams I scaled to touch the skies
Love vibrated every nerve
But now a sad change has come over
It all makes me think
How rapid is the flight of time
Once I thought how bright and sweet was life
Agile were my movements, could walk miles
Fatigue I never knew, supple limbs never ached
Life was a roller coaster ride
Today when I look at the young
With wind in their skirts and sunbeams in their eyes
I see the stark change that years have brought
And wonder how rapid the onset of old age is
Though my beauty has burnt away
And my bones have a brittle grate
Still I would like to hold on stubbornly
Looking at each day for what next day brings
As I still have a hopeful heart
And wish to embrace life as it comes
To make it a sweet labor of love
So I ‘rage, rage against the dying of light’!
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
Judging faces
Held back laughter
All for
A bubbly fangirl
Why must they
Be so cruel
To a nervous girl
I wish they understood
*"What the ****
Said another girl
As I explained my thoughts
About this judgmental world
"It's just a tease"
She said
"She's used to it"
She added
But that's not the point
I'm trying to convey
Ugh
They'll never understand anyway
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
Come in and enjoy the Night-Light Hotel
Where Pillows and Perfumes meet and relax
And Therapy takes either Bond or Belle
And Goldfish blow this Friday's Bubbly Sax
Here upon registry your Token awaits
The Flannel up-hook which you strip and wear
Then wait for your turn as your Number rebates
A little whilst knowing your Musk reeks there
I for one made this Malicious Decide
And tempt my ****** to swallow this Treat:
Upper-Lower Left; Upper-Lower Right
Then descend into Base - Heh! Heh! Heh! Heh!
Stud or Salome, let Conscience give choose
But trust me to say I am a Man too.
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
Fat;
Bubbly lipids gathering and stacking in a fashioned order.
Fat;
It was not so "fashionista" when she gained and gained.
Skinny;
She was lost, had no where to run but to the pantry.
Skinny;
Bones showing, skin glimmering in the sunlight.
Fat;
Sticking to her bones as paper sticks to glue.
Fat;
Poking and Prodding at the blubbery material that sits upon her femurs.
Unhappy;
She will always be.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
Hey you, the enchanted
nights for us
Hey you, in the kettle is your witch's kissing-brew
In magical moments
I pretend to spend
suspended moments
entwined in mystical
thoughts and lovingly
clasping you
So close to my heart
I drink of your
sparkling bubbly
witch's kissing-brew
So close to my
heart I dream
of enchanted all-night-love-rocking,
and just plain loving you...
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
My first impression of the children's hospital was how nice everything was. It was new, with fish tanks and red sofas; pastel windows which made pretty colors on the floor when the sun went through them; walls were freshly painted and everyone talked with a smile. Everything just looked so peaceful.
It wasn't until my second visit that I saw the flaws. I was sitting on one of the red couches, waiting for my name to be called, and I was looking at the fish tank. A little girl was pressed up to the glass telling her mother that she could see nemo. But when I looked closer, I saw a little fish turned over floating at the surface. A man behind the glass quickly pulled it out of the tank, but I saw. That's when I started noticing other things. Like the bloodstain on the cushion next to me. And the fact that a few tiles were missing from the floor. The wood paneling had scratches on it; one of the pastel windows was taped up; and every parent was smiling, but the little kids holding on to them kept asking what was wrong.
Maybe that's just how hospitals are. They want you to think that everything's okay; that all that goes on inside are couches and fishtanks. They think that if they write out the word HOSPITAL in bubbly pink letters people might get it into their brains that everything's okay. But that doesn't change the fact that it's a hospital. Masking pain only works for so long, until broken bits and pieces push their way through.
I think hospitals are just fish tanks. Everyone is put on display for doctors and visitors and things seem okay for a while, you know, until they aren't. When a little nemo dies, they send away his body and just replace him with another orange fish that people can look at. We are all the cracks in the pavement; elevators shut down for repair; a phantom pain that nobody wants to believe is real. If you stand far enough away; if you distance yourselves from anything close to the word hospital, you can just let yourself focus on the mask they put up. But once it's time, and you're sitting on a red couch in the lobby of the children's wing, with a kid asking you where her older brother went, you'll find yourself staring at the cracks in the facade with a single tear running down your face and with emptiness in your stomach.
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
It was probably that smile that caught me,
And your bubbly personality,
It was just the perfect mixture,
And that’s why I fell, I’m sure,
But you weren’t someone that moves gracefully,
Everyone actually considers you downright clumsy,
Reaching class late, still having a smile on your face,
Just entering and any existing shame, I see no trace
I could write something that overpraises you,
Like comparing you to the radiant Sun and how I think it’s true,
Or a flower in some garden, where you shine the brightest,
Very cringey stuff are what I often write, cheesy at best,
Excuse me for being the creepy type of man,
You probably won’t like this, since poems and other stuff you’re not much of a fan,
Often making this poems for you is hard, although I like It,
Understand I’m trying to remove how I feel, but constantly failing to do it,
And even when I fail, know I’m trying my best to,
Not fall completely and irrationally fall for you,
Despite that sudden burst of happiness being the reason I feel the way I do,
Somehow I will try slowly becoming distant from you
Okay, finally going back to what I was saying,
Recently though I was just trying to figure out something,
Reasons to why you really look bright through my eye,
Yet I still can’t think of proper answer no matter how hard I try,
To be completely true it’s just how you are overall,
Honestly I think everything about you is what made me fall,
And now I think I’m at the height of what I’m feeling,
Now I’m probably close to its ceiling,
Keeping up with the status quo is the only thing I can do,
You probably will become a distant memory after college is through,
Or someone I can still casually see every once in a blue moon,
Unless I do something about how I feel, I think I should say goodbye soon,
Getting to know someone lie you who can face life with a smile so bright,
Oh how great it is that you can still shine in life’s uphill fight,
Over that smile though is still someone that feels depression,
Despite how bright you smile, I think you still feel this crippling sensation,
Because everyone of us is victim to failure’s hold,
Yet I still believe despite the ton of pressure you experience you wouldn’t fold,
Even if the wind feels a little colder, and you feel breathing the air is becoming harder,
I know you won’t suffocate under the stress, you’ll probably even become better,
This poem is getting a bit long so I’ll wrap this up quick,
I have no idea if you have some kind of trick,
That you can just glow like the way you do,
Again it’s cheesy but I wholeheartedly believe it is true,
You may not feel even the slightest of how I feel for you,
And you probably be even annoyed about the things I do,
But for you to change is something I do not wish,
The imperfect you is the prefect you as crazy as the sound of it is,
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 12:23 PM UTC
......was a freezing morning.
no rooster woke me....i opened
my eyes at first light of dawn,
sipped hot coffee....my thoughts,
recalling....traveling, with the swirling steam...
turkey wasn't done yet,
but, hours before, table was already set...
while awaiting guests,
I leant on the counter...my head, to rest,
i looked outside the small window
and was greeted by a full moon, aglow...
there was so much food on the table...weariness
was healed by laughter...conversations touched
on weather, politics, food...they refused to end,
glasses sparkled with bubbly wine....sliced meat
was arranged on a big tray...baked sweet potato
with caramel smelled, tasted good...broccoli rave
was green and spicy...i didn't know potato salad
could taste good without meat!....coffee and pies
came next.....the dogs, communicated with their
eyes and paws...socializing, too, like their masters,
i saw what was left, after slicing the plump roasted
fowl...a skeleton, still with thick strands of meat, and
the palatable stuffing made with onions and prunes.
dishes were washed, kitchen was back in order,
after showering....everyone rushed to their beds,
yet, i had to peep out the window, one last time...
the full moon, still was upon us...confirming its
presence....a long time witness to the moments
we celebrate........encouraging our moods,
our thoughts.....our hearts.......even when
it's not a thanksgiving night..
Sally
Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
November 23, 2018
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
so, with israel being re-established...
why do we, us,hit
europeans... even need to bother
establishing authority,
utilißing the new testament?
i quiete like the old testament
logic of:
oculus per oculus
(eye for an eye)...
because the saxon concept of
justice: i rather see...
the implosion of
blackstone's formulation...
the 10:1 imploding to the 1:10
ratio of...
a shawshank redemption...
there is... redemption...
since! there's no justice within
the post scriptum of
the hillsborough disaster...
watching people walk, the lunatic walk,
20 years later?
disorientated by the court
of justice?
re-dem-ption...
the whole aspect of: innocent until proven
guilty is horrid!
this... saxon vernacular of
that branch of philosophy that's
bogus...
namely... within origins
of the forbidden fruit...
i.e. and you know?!
really?!
no... but i'll **** to make
a standing pivot of a pawn
on a chess-board.
savvy?
who, among the europeans...
actually needs such artifacts
as new testament texts, credo,
orthodoxy, sign of the cross
greek exports?
the state of israel has
been re-established...
i don't want anything to do
with this judeo-grecian banality...
you can have you little affair over
n
e w
s...
don't worry... i'll make sure that i'm
watching... people tell a lie...
yeah: hum hum bubbly hum-hum...
am i, or are there any arizona
inbreds?
who, the hell, needs, the news testament,
within the confines of history,
dispossessing europe of it,
of an established jewish state?
one book among many...
hence the scent of a yawn...
when entering a library...
i'll do one gesture, and one gesture
alone... inclined to a replica...
ecce libra!
i wash my hands from
having any investment in it.
**** the greeks can have it...
they can keep it, cherish it,
but they better not spaghetti the old testament
with their... "ingenious" plot...
not when the nag hammadi library
emerged...
no... not now... not ever...
i detest this greek book of overt
symbolism...
their pristine alphabet,
their diacritical application,
with the pseudo-romans toying with: deaf...
or blind... whichever it is...
sandpaper... instead of a kangaroo pouch...
of inflated... soft... flesh?
i'll rip your heart out
and feed it to my neighbour's dog,
beside a bowl of water.
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
Little perfect girl
standing in front of
you lot
Acting, performing
a bubbly act
Smiling, laughing
making jokes
Her performance
is so believable
So good
just breath-taking
But here's one thing
she's not on stage.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
eyes are
quite gelatine
mending bubbly detail
mocking up fact to suit user
/the ears ? crinkled dishes of pinkened veins
robbing blood to probe the gossip
/digits bud on the feed
in polyp growth
******
and ****** a
pepper mill from off the
coffee table/tongue leeches lips
retaining massaged notes from food oils past
/spatting nostrils puncture the air
punching out breath purling
inhale a stressed
report
Dec 3, 2022
Dec 3, 2022 at 9:49 PM UTC
I tried to escape,
Escape the reality,
I tried living in my dreams,
In my bubbly own world,
Doing everything i always wanted to do,
But sometimes it’s hard,
Hard ignoring the reality,
Hard not wanting to hear the truth,
You’ve got to grow up they say..
Face everything, all the bad in this world,
But still i don’t understand,
How a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad?
I will try to be, the best i can be
I will try to be, the bravest you’ll see,
I’ll make sure to try till the day i die...
May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 10:31 AM UTC
I cradle hurricanes in my ribcage
while words swirl around my head.
I try to catch the good ones-
but mostly, I wish I was dead.
I do everything too much-
the joy, the sorrow, the dread.
Yet somehow, I’m never enough-
what a curious truth to be force fed.
If I laugh, it’s always too loud;
my mouth too sharp to make anyone proud.
Crying is a dangerous game,
I could sob away a city, drown in the blame.
My rage leaves no survivors,
as if I line people up on personal pyres.
When I vent, they hear preaching-
a sermon no one wants, a fear of my leeching.
I don’t love, I dissect-
obsessively search for the trap I expect.
I can’t just leave; I burn it all down-
the bubbly, funny girl wears a permanent frown.
I do too much and my inner child feels seen,
She's acting out, we aren't this mean
I just get scared when the vibe is off, and ruining the mood makes the blow more soft.
Despite the chaos I still crave love, an equal partner, wearing fireproof gloves.
Jun 20, 2025
Jun 20, 2025 at 12:18 AM UTC