"carbonation" poems
You probably understand. Or maybe you don't, after all. Either way, it is jumping around inside me and if I don't let it out soon all my carbonation will fizz up and run over the side of my glass and I don't want to waste all that sweetness.
I want to kiss you underwater.
I want that kiss to be the only thing keeping us alive. Down there we are foreigners, aliens. Grasping, I want to feel your flesh in stark contrast to the smooth wetness all around me, like a secret.
All that life where we cannot live. Exotic, forbidden, so lovely. I am sick with love.
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 12:40 AM UTC
pencil-thin shoulders
mess of dyed blonde hair and fake
strawberry grins
lost in movie ticket stubs stuck
to crowded multi-coloured walls stuffed
bears hidden under bedsprings, pent-up
energy like carbonation in sugary soft drinks
unsteady hands on composed aged shoulders,
unsure feet find their way on moving
slabs cleaning out bright blue backpacks
filled with words forgotten on
pages dried up like pens or discarded acquaintances
discovering heart-shaped cardboard tokens of February
infatuation pure unlike clandestine Friday nights,
pounding nervous with blood in pink seashell ears
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 7:27 PM UTC
Chatting cold conspiracies from across the coffee table.
Pangaea on the rocks - sweet, sober, civil silence.
When did the degradation become so severe?
Time ticks down and friendships fade to acquaintances.
Spine tingling tempo of the pitter-patter rain drop percussion.
Galloping triplets trickling down from the temples of thunder.
Hands of the clock clap in celebration of another hour killed.
Two o’ clock Coca-Cola to crown the king of carbonation *****
Naming off artists to impress the drunken temptress.
Taunting the room filled with glimmer-eyed, lovestruck libidos.
All the kids are struggling to remember the horoscope they skimmed.
Brains drained to the point of puking in mouths, poisoning the passion.
With whiskey laced erections, this night chants a swansong.
Illegal lane changes and tiptoe key turning roustabouts.
The Hubble eye can’t detect the silent thoughts left hidden.
Dreams within dreams, lost in a cloud of exhaled acceptance.
Tonight, you fizzled, and tonight, you sleep alone.
These are the danger days. Timber!
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
at the chevron hospital to settle nerves opal squeaky teeth and mint clear nose of mint
at the chevron hospital the doctor comes to check my winter tongue
my eyes are soggy bark
a cloth is being wrung
a sightless worm is having a seizure in a washing machine filled with teeth, a sightless worm is having a seizure in a moist cavern clicking carbonation, wringing over saliva to hiss, not saying a word
just ringing mouths
blinking at the chevron hospital through tangled
help, my eyes are soggy bark a cloth is being wrung a sightless worm is having a seizure and my nerves opal to mint and clear me
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
She was so bubbly
Saliva like soda
Her eyes were so bright you could hear them pop
You could give an audience to the sugary syrup in her voice
You could feel the carbonation on her lips
And you could taste the sweet fizz on her tongue.
She was so bubbly
Before you came
Now she tastes flat.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 8:34 PM UTC
you are everything
you are everyone
you are every cliche
you are the sun,
you are the stifling heat
that cannot be escaped
you are valentines cards
misdirected and misshaped,
you are hotmail,
you are myspace,
you are my face,
hungover and exhausted,
you are lost kids,
you are something that was fun,
you are not getting shotgun,
you are beer
that's been in the sun
too long,
you are a sad song,
that's not been made better,
you are the hole in my sweater,
or my pockets,
you are the chalky sugar that's
passed off as rockets,
you are the first drummer of the beatles,
you are evil,
and i don't mean that jokingly,
you are choking me,
like turtlenecks,
or high stake bets,
made on the wrong team,
you are what seems like
a good idea at the time,
you are past tense,
you are jeans caught in the fence
preventing teens from sneaking in,
you are cold wind on a dry winter's day,
you are Coldplay's last two albums,
you are too much talcum powder
you are convenience store flowers,
you are forced,
you are hoarse
voices in place of song,
you are wrong,
you are the weakest link,
you are outdated references,
you are beverages,
that have lost carbonation,
you are hesitation
that leads to regret,
you are the new york mets,
you are first impressions
that i make on the elderly,
you are Beverly Hills Chihuahua,
you are foie gras,
you are aqua
and their music in my head,
you are cold beds,
warm beer,
empty freezers,
old tears,
fake appeasers,
new fears,
you are the moments
when it feels like no one's near,
you are searching for Waldo for hours,
you are any buildings "bigger" than the cn tower,
you are fake,
you are first date awkward silence,
you are last date awkward silence,
you are violence,
you are hybrid suvs,
you are bees,
you are black flies,
you are forgetting an event is black tie,
you are something nice to forget,
you are socks that are wet,
you are the slow driver in the left lane,
you are fame,
you are fleeting seconds
never to be recaptured,
you are the man on the corner
screaming about rapture,
you are actors selling out,
you are stains on a couch,
you are lost remotes,
you are failed attempts to save face,
you are everything
that has ever graced
this time and space,
here and above,
you are everything,
you are love...
Jun 30, 2012
Jun 30, 2012 at 5:12 PM UTC
Transit garbled messages
From beings unprepared
Train-wreck waves of sound
Divine noise and ***** static
The foul breath of humanity
Tattered pieces of mentality
**** flavored carbonation
Steeped through alienation
Morbid tears of laughter
Plastered on demonic brick
Thrown through windows to the soul
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 7:46 AM UTC
Carbonation
In the perforations
Of my pupils
Pops
Like one million little
Tiny bubbles
Swirling to the top
And I am lit
Just like a lantern on the lawn
I sway with wind 'til
Night is gone
Tumble with you
Toward the dawn
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 4:17 AM UTC
I like to snort coke
The feel of carbonation
As it's in my nose.
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 9:48 PM UTC
Bottles of carbonation
And bottles of tears,
Bottles of death wishes
And bottles of jeers,
I've bottled all the nasty looks
People've given me over the years.
Now all that's left to get over
Is all of my worthless fears.
Bottles of carbonation sit silently
Humming and buzzing beside me,
Sitting open on my nightstand as I
Avoid conversation with the
Other hundreds of people who try
Desperately to strain to reach
Me before my wounds ooze pus
And blood and Death comes to reap.
Drinks keep me alive through his pain
It now courses through my veins.
It's why I twitch when hearing my name,
One final desperate gasp of breath
Before I succumb to painful death.
Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 9:42 PM UTC
Last time I tried this hard
to add things up was Algebra II
I still **** at math, so I'm working through
each problem one at a time
my therapist says I shouldn't do that to people,
packed into boxes, expected to do what they say
but here I am all the same
four blue lines around your name
I guess I should just be glad you came,
**** an afterthought, I'm the ******* train
thought you could stand on the tracks, white flag in your hand
like I've already signed off on a 12-month lease
well, this year doesn't belong to you
it's doing fine just on its own;
you always saw me as a rolling stone,
a little too loose in the heart or the head
guess I was just that good in bed,
but oh, you wouldn't know, right?
It's not like you spent every other night
******* me in and out of sleep,
my name on your lips along with my skin
& all that ******** about losing to win-
no wonder I'm ******* struggling
to calculate the weight of words
only significant in certain contexts.
150 pounds feels like less on the moon,
unless you're the ******* ground carrying it
(pain is relative)
so go ahead, walk all over me
I'm like carbonation, feeling gravity-free
as pliable as your plastic Wal-Mart bags,
but even those are meant to be used again-
I'm just waiting to find out where & when.
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 8:37 PM UTC
For once I'm letting myself entertain the concept.
I'm mulling it over.
Because, I'm the glass-half-empty type.
It's not that I don't want a refill,
it is simply that I cannot get the attention of my server.
In the meantime,
the soda goes flat and the ice melts into it.
But unlike most, I have realized that drinking it leaves you with less.
I can be glass-half-empty, knowing that there is still some lukewarm liquid souping in the glass.
The problem is that I simply refuse to experience even the watered-down aspects of life,
for fear that that **** waiter never does show up.
Dec 6, 2010
Dec 6, 2010 at 5:49 PM UTC
breathe in deep,
{deep breaths will help you cope}
chew gum,
a diet coke and a cigarette in the afternoon,
the carbonation burns your throat
{thank god}
another cigarette after work,
another cup of coffee on the road
{black, with two sugars}
park the car,
go inside,
do laundry,
do the dishes,
do something
{distraction is key}
look in the mirror,
tousle your hair,
you look
{normal?}
there are no external warning signs,
{not that you've exhibited, at least}
this deception you're living every day,
has become the norm for you
{who am i?}
{but he doesn't look like an alcoholic}
silent pain,
no one can hear your cries for help.
{are you, perhaps, too prideful to look like an alcoholic?}
you still wake up for work,
eat breakfast,
go to church,
but your faith is no longer in God,
the blood of your God represented in a chalice of wine,
passed through the hands of the faithful followers,
{moderation is key, isn't that what they told you?}
pass the cup back to the holy man before he sees
the look in your eyes,
begging for more,
{one more drink}
{please}
it only matters if you show the warning signs,
as if this addiction
{dare i say, disease?}
could fit into a pamphlet,
neatly folded,
creased edges,
glossy photographs,
all smiles,
1-800 number in the big font
{this is your life, and it fits on a single sheet of paper}
{no one can help you but yourself, and you're not doing so well}
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 4:11 PM UTC
Home grown boy heart in city leaps.
Starry eyed goldie locks,
Girl swing so pretty, sleeps
poetic
shares the world with a fuzed up smile
You’d probably get it, took time
to talk a while
opportunist’s Whit in hand
and hesitation’s fresh
beneath froth.
Cool carbonation sensations
on flesh
exchanges conversation to burst
back
to the farthest room girl
roams to imagined nights with you
rather, to the midnight moon shone across the floor
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
I remember
one night we got so drunk
on our porch under blankets
I systematically
covered
in cigarette
ash.
dusted off
and started again
I swear
that night, under twinkle lights
I always think cast such a warm
glow,
and drip golden,
I swear,
that night,
Our Passion
bubbled like the carbonation in our bellies
And I stopped myself
from saying I Love You.
I remember
on Christmas,
we laid on the couch
all day
and didn't see or speak
to anyone else.
Watched movie
after movie
after movie
Until we both sunk
into each other
so deep
half asleep with commitment
to laziness
Until I couldn't tell
where my body
ended and yours
began
It was the best Christmas I've ever had.
And I remember
how you looked
the night you told me
it was over
My breath
caught
and cracked
like
ice
Stuck
between esophagus
and lung
like our bathroom pipes.
You must have said
"ex-lover"
half a dozen times or more.
I remember
thinking how inappropriate
it was that as I was listening to you
And all I wanted was
to kiss the anger
from your lips
I'm not sure why I ever stopped myself
from loving you until
the very last second,
But I think you're right.
I thought I couldn't deserve you
and instead of fighting,
I put my hands up,
threw down
a white flag.
In the end, I didn't deserve you
Your quiet power,
Your Moon-child Grace.
If nothing else,
this time,
I will learn
from my mistakes.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
my feet had barely greeted california
when my face matched the new summer,
cheeks blooming uneven,
eyes green as moss
and every face i glared upon
avoided looking too long.
walking through my least favorite airport
chin high, silent and ugly and wet,
i grieved for myself, i pitied my future, and mourned my past.
something lodged in my throat screamed with more assurance
and clarity and confidence than i have ever known
"this is not where i belong!"
i cried for my feet no longer squishing silica on white beaches
old skin disappearing in tiny fish
or kissing rainforest mulch, under-dressed in flipflops
taunting flora and fauna and fate
i cried for my skin, abused and bronzed
exfoliated in world heritage parks, the first shower in days
and oiled from water crossings in a run-down four wheel drive
a beard of blemishes i didn't bother to hide.
i cried for my ears, robbed of every accent,
of the crashing waves and roar of waterfalls,
or the same six songs played in every club in cairns
and the pterodactyl screech of flying foxes.
i cried for my hair, for my hands, for my nose.
i cried for my mouth and my tongue and my legs.
mostly, i cried for the death of laughter that started in the
pit of my stomach and rose up like carbonation
to my chest and my lungs and my neck and burst
like floodwaters in dorrigo
the elation and exhilaration and euphoria of being alive
that spilled out of me in screams and shrieks
and bubbled and flushed and insisted
so fiercely so strongly so urgently
that to relent was not even a choice but a right
and then half a year later
i sat dully in a fluorescent corridor at my transfer terminal
feeling my heart retreat, defeated
dreading the long months ahead
promising nothing but drudgery and boredom
letting the tears drip onto my boarding pass
black ink lamenting, too
and not a single person approached
or spoke to me
until i asked to wash away the moment
with a diminutive bottle of ***
a mile from the surface.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
The streets were not as mean as history
said they would be,
especially after a night out
at the bier haus,
where we filled our grosse steins
with litres of hops
& barley
& natural carbonation.
It really wasn't a nation full of crazies,
but rather
one full of serious frunken fun
& frolicking amoungst the bauchnabels
with liebe.
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Sweet,
with a subtle carbonation.
Forefinger and thumb
running up the length of the stem of the glass.
Palm at the base of the bulb.
Swirling
Clinking
"Cheers."
Cold,
but warmed by the wine.
Touching lips.
Touching tongue.
Kiss, kiss
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
Your sitting in the cabin of woods, far from old sighs and tribulations.
Like saliva, your current dame forms through a process of aural nothings on the couch most adjacent your heart.
The cabin is attempting its second suicide this month; burning itself from the inside, kitchened soul, out.
The dame says nothing but thats not what you need.
Your needs exceed the gritting anger of blue and orange flame.
You feel the delicate hairs of your foot dissolve from these blues and oranges; the horror of human carbonation is a 90 year rainbow.
The dame says nothing but thats not what you need.
You need the dame to cough up bricks and sea of vocabulary that bring you back to your nostalgic rave.
The mute dame is louder than the fire and this is your current muse.
Your most current scar tissue to be.
The fiery cabin will bend around you like bark, and this is what you need.
This is the blanket you've been waiting for.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
lightning bolts are striking through my body. my adrenaline is as fresh as carbonation and i feel bittersweet.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
discarded instant ramen bowls
left airing in the dark
sitting next to sprite bottles
devoid of their fizzy carbonation
clothes heaped on the floor
collecting dust with homework papers
the glowing screen of the computer the only light to be seen
a figure
matted hair, dark circles under their eyes
so used to their own scent they do not realize their stench
abandoning everything besides their computer
their fingers tap quickly on the keyboard
but their eyes are dead and void
they have lost their path
they cannot find their way.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:05 AM UTC
O, my dearest and most enticing caffeine
Without you, the world would be grey
For each time you reach for my heart
It both flutters and beckons the day
So generous and giving, thou doth art
The simmering sound of your can intoxicates me
Carbonation so sweet; you give me motivation all week
To continue this molecular love story
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
there are countless moments
when i know i could've done it
where i know i could've taken it
where i know there would've been an end
there are countless things i cannot say
things that would bring me to a basement
things that would bring me to the church
things that would make me seem crazy
things that they would never believe
things they'd be embarrassed about
things they'd be disappointed in
lately its felt really bad
everything is coming back
things i used to feel are reappearing
worse
worse
worse
worse
worse
its drowning and exploding all in one
i'm bursting with everything bottled up
a shaken bottle with carbonation boiling inside
spewing out every time
words aren't enough anymore
there is no escape
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 5:05 PM UTC
my love for you fizzled up
like soda left on the counter
like a fish with no water
slowly inhaling what kills it
i don't know when it happened
im not even quite sure why
but sometimes you stepped on my emotional mines without even realizing they were there
exploding inside my heart
ripping me up inside
i know you didn't mean it
but i didn't need someone else making me feel like i wasn't good enough
maybe that's why i pulled away
maybe i was the air that ****** the carbonation out
maybe i drowned myself
i'm sorry i couldn't be what you wanted
i'm sorry i let myself get in the way of our beautiful
i often do that
my emotional scars can be quite fragile
the stitches are still in place
the wounds barely healed
i'm sorry you couldn't make me feel good enough
maybe because you are so much greater
maybe it was just the wrong time
i'm not sure
but i'm sorry
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC