"fanta" poems
you think this is funny?
you cheer with your boys?
making nonsense and noise
go find all your toys
i could take photos of you
and they always show me the truth
of how beautiful
you
are
you're not one for dates
but i could take you
some
where
if you would maybe care
i would try
and we could be ly
ing
under the stars
but instead i'm in here
crying
wishing i was
dying
wish you were
beside
me
so why is it
surprising
that no matter what the
night
brings
i'm always
fanta
size
ing
about you
taking photos
without your
consent
i'm sorry i didn't tell you
yet
but you're my best
asset
funny i fell in love with a dark skinned boy named Justice during all this racism bull ****
....right?
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 4:33 AM UTC
11:44 PM // do you remember the first time we met? i do.
12:02 AM // i remember the first time we locked eyes like it was yesterday
12:09 AM // i remember the swirl of green and brown all in one mesmerising gaze taunting me like a bad dream
12:57 AM // you were never just a stranger to me, you were never a face that didn’t matter
1:18 AM // from the moment i laid eyes on you i knew you’d break my heart
1:32 AM // i can't stop thinking about the last time you told me you loved me
1:55 AM // you called me up after weeks of nothing and told me you'd never love anyone like you loved me
2:07 AM // you were saying goodbye, weren't you?
2:50 AM // i could have forgiven you if it was only a kiss, but you fell in love with her
3:49 AM // i've kissed lots of people since you, but none of them pulled my hair and tasted like fanta
4:27 AM // my god i loved you with everything i had
5:01 AM // it still wasn't enough, was it?
5:55 AM // it was always meant to be her.
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
Holograms on my hand gave me a tanned wrist
Diamonds dancing on my fist look like a blank disc
Teriyaki soup with the lemon Fanta
Heavy weight, heartburn: Mylanta.
On my cell phone, now I'm on my iPhone
Now I'm on my bat phone.
Hanging fangs down like a vampire (Twilight!)
Sapphires dancing on my hand like a campfire (Dancing!).
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 7:00 PM UTC
U gave me that leaf, & said u were never gonna leave, Cause we were meant to live, now I have to Outlive & conceive the pain of grieve,
Who are u to tell me when to meditate? Please go your way and don't dictate, I have been born to innovate, Learn from me and don't aggravate,
Why dig into my past just to excavate things and deliberate , Yet you imitate and commentate and say it irritates, Never hesitate to prostate, Cause it elevate and motivates my innovative.
Even if your silences grieve so loud in my ears, I will never freeze, I will always leave, Because I never lived, I am never relief, I can't be pleased, Even when u sneeze. It only aggravates my pain when I eat, Dats the reason I refused to breath.
How can you call me fake When that's what you are, What you are is what I say , What I have seen is what am saying..
Fake, fake, fake, Fake u are like fanta Colorful yet distrustful Great pleasure Hidden smile, Full of Fantasy, deceitful u are.
You said u were my friend, then why stab me twice and expect me to talk once, U have twined &twisted; me, Enough of the Glossy bossy, mischievous in motivation, Malicious in thought,
Why judge when you can settle to be a judge in a jungle Stop been unjustly, & learn to be justifiable,
Now it's time for u to leave , superstitiously I have lived suspicious u have been, Dangerous you have become, Unpredictable you are , You're definitely a ********* You're never my friend
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 7:24 AM UTC
If you'd care to help
I'm saving up cans
With the brilliant idea
To build an aluminum can friend
One that shines bright
That never will rust
In whom I share secrets
One I can trust
He'll have Coca-Cola arms
And Dr. Pepper legs
Non-caffine Sprite
I'll use for his head
Don't want my aluminum can friend
To have jitters all day
Restless at night
Staying up late
I'll give him Pepsi hands
That are willing to please
So when I do chores
He can help me
For my friend on the go
I'll give Mountain Dew feet
A couple Red Bull
If I decide to do wings
And an idea that is good
Would be a Fanta heart
For a colorful beat
With all the flavors there are
So if you'd like to help
I'm saving up cans
With the brilliant idea
To build an aluminum can friend
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 3:46 PM UTC
olvide pizza, olvide macarrones de queso
la comida para el cual le daría todo de mis pesos
es el bocadillo
con queso amarillo,
anaranjado, o blanca
no quiero agua, o fanta
incluso yo tengo mucho ser es-
-ta triste. tengo ser para liquido y mujeres
pero el queso llena el agujero en mi corazon y estomago
tú pides "¿te gusta el queso de plancha? " no!
me encanta el bocadillo y como el queso habla a me
el queso dice "comerme" "comerme"
antonces yo pongo el queso en mi boca
¡ay el bocadillo con queso hace mi loca!
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
The ball goes down the lane
it clinks on pins
and down they go,
the shoes fit just right
and everyone you know is in sight,
being taught how to spell the letter R
of your name by your great aunt Vi,
seeing your funny aunt Marlene,
being with your grandma Ross,
and going to Sammy's Restaurant
for grilled cheese,
and the pharmacy for pink Trident gum,
all this under one roof.
I run to the lane
the ball goes down the lane
I run to the counter in time
shut off the lane
and CRASH!
no pins fall
the sound of the ball ricochets
from one end to the other;
my mischievous ways fulfilled,
and God I loved the Fanta pop
which my dad, the manager I was
proud of, readily supplied,
the place is now gone
but it's life still goes on
the pins crash even louder,
the disinfectant shoe spray still as smelly,
the oil of the lane still slippery,
and the grilled cheese still as good;
and carried on to the current day...
Georgina would have been proud!
http://www.robross.ca
Nov 23, 2009
Nov 23, 2009 at 11:46 AM UTC
Half asleep, driving for hours
with Budweiser bottles,
warm from the heating.
The windows were all down,
we were smoking rollies,
all sharing one lighter because the driver
dropped his in a can of fanta.
Next thing,
the roar of an army of twincams.
VTECs, something insanely beautiful,
and incredibly ridiculous,
a convention of petrol heads—
Gardaí everywhere, searching for tax
and insurance. My God, I was in it.
Hundreds of thousands of them,
all excited like children,
the screaming of a million voices,
no exhaustion in the exhaust fumes.
The hills rose around us, the traffic
packed backwards,
expensive cars all sardined in a roundabout.
How loud can you get it?
Can she sing like a canary?
Can she find herself at the Letterkenny rally?
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
*I wish we met when her tarmac road was still mellow
Then when she still danced to the Congolese tune "Mbelo",
I wish we met when she could not stare in the eyes
Right when she was too shy to tell any lies,
I wish we met when she was still under her Mama's apron strings
So innocent, when she still trusted human beings,
I wish we met when she did church each and every Sunday
And had no thought of bearing a guilty conscience someday,
I wish we met when she saw the world for her best, not her worst
When the balloon of her ***** wasn't yet burst,
I wish we met when her future was still blinding bright
Wish I'd seen her in the dawns of her life, not the nights
When she knew no whiskeys or beers but only Fanta and Sprite
So that she wouldn't get herself in trouble and drunken fights,
I wish we met when she still had dry “unkisssed’’ lips
When she thought kisses were an unhealthy swap of saliva,
I wish we met when she hadn't developed attractive hips
When she wasn't a depressed Heart-wreck survivor,
I wish we met when she still believed in fantasy and fairy tales
And had a honest fascination for cowry shells,
I wish we met when she flamboyantly wore her natural African hair
When she still thought herself naturally beautiful and fair,
I wish we met when studies hadn't corrupted her mind and stolen all her hours
When she still smiled at the sight of frail petals of red rose flowers,
Wish we met when the movie title that described her ******* isn't “Olympus
Has Fallen”
But probably “Hard Boiled”, “Only the Strong” or “Swollen”,
I wish we met when she had faith in things like weddings, when her soul was
a spring of hope
When she hadn't lost respect for such societal norms preferring to elope,
I wish we met when she still respected danger
And risked not accepting courtesy from every rich stranger,
I wish we met when she believed true love existed in the world
Maybe then she'd believe my each and every word,
I wish we met when she still honestly needed a friend
I’m sure I’d be there to love and care for her till the end.*
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 3:19 AM UTC
Are you bored?
Do you feel there's no point to the things you do?
Is your life missing an element of excitement?
Fear not, I have just the thing
Put the Awe back in Awesome
Put the back Zing back in Amazing
Put the Fanta back into Fantastic
What? Fanta is great.
Anyway
It's rather simple.
The next time you have to do something you find boring, depressing, or unfulfilling, do it FOR SCIENCE!
Some examples:
I'll be out later, I have to do my English homework...FOR SCIENCE
I'm giving the big presentation tomorrow...FOR SCIENCE
I got into a car accident this morning...FOR SCIENCE
I don't feel so well, I need to use the crapper...FOR SCIENCE. I'll be in there awhile. For Science.
Someone tried to steal my purse, so I stabbed them...FOR SCIENCE
I guarantee that if you use this handy tip, your self esteem will rise, and people will find you exponentially more interesting!
Or they might think you're crazy
They definitely won't think you're boring, though.
So go out there and show the world what you're made of
For Science!
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 6:56 PM UTC
One juice box
One scone
One apple for Noble
and a pita for Peter
One sandwich
One coke
One green pea for me
and a pita for Peter
One fanta for Santa
One pizza for Caesar
And extra mozzarella for Ella
The spare is for you
And as for the bean
Put that in the bin
and a pita for Peter
One ice-cream
One pie
One pasta for Busta
and a pita for Peter
One cake
One steak
One milkshake for Shriek
and a pita for Peter
One pita
for Peter?
Give each one their own
and a pita for Peter
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
You're like the caffeine-free soda
FANTA-stic.
I actually have many more words than that
But i'd go on all day
And you'd fall asleep with how many i have.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
Pop bottles. Boxes of them.
The old man brought them home.
He collected them on the construction site, between lifts.
Sometimes it would be days between lifts,
So he filled time collecting bottles.
*Hires, Fanta, Tab, Fresca, 7 Up, Mountain Dew,
Canada Dry*...
Emptied by men, like him, from all over.
What conversations did he have with them
When he picked up the empties.
Did he indulge? He'd have liked Vernors.
Pop bottles were as good as gold.
Large bottles, a nickel: Small, two cents.
He kept us busy, weeding, straightening nails, digging, mixing cement, building fences, painting them, and the house;
Root cellars, garages, additions;
In fair, wet, or hot conditions.
Winter had it's own cuffs.
We'd cash in the bottles at Walker Bros.
Every Sunday he'd leave for weeks,
Up North, to places like Kapuskasing and Hearst.
He must've been thinking about us up there,
Collecting our bottles,
In fair, wet, or hot conditions.
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 10:03 PM UTC
Do you remember Mexico?
How old were we then, twelve?
That place was so loved
It smelled like dust and slow-cooked beans
We caught a toad
We painted dorms
El Sauzal, the willow, the willow
A beaten-up concrete playground
Bright, yellow sun
Red, sticky Fanta
Worn-in smiles adjusting to the smell of strangers
I fell in love with a Mexican boy
We didn't even play soccer together
Watched a movie in a language neither of us spoke
Climbed trees with leaves that needed a rake
Cleaned a nursery room
Told scary stories around a red campfire
Letting the world seep into our veins
Saw the dolphins when we camped at the beach
Named and re-named the tick-ridden dogs
The water was wetter
The air was headier
The sun shined more unrelentingly, more heavenly
The blisters harder-won
The rain more of a blessing
The life so much more tangible and delicious
Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 7:34 AM UTC
@ a cristian @ a catholic @ an all round ruddy good athlete. @ herd roast beef @ herd mutton. @ i used to lead the pork and dairy through the fields of cotton. @ wear football socks and wellingtons and fleeces and march to the top of the old south downs. @ make a jump jet from bits of old pieces @ act a goat or a hero or a clown. @ do front flips straight from the backflip @ sing who put the dog with the cat fish @ say ship! Take the P add a T @ break the day with a bowl of muesli. @ play snake if my mate had a phone, but playing with others isnt always better than playing
alone.
@ like films made for kids my age, glamourised ideas of aristocracy and faith. The good will win and the bad will be sad and the age of the raging mad will begin, its a fad! @ wear jean jackets, go to the parties @ have fanta and chocolate log rushing through the arteries. @ chew through books faster than a vulture, faster than the fastest man at the height of zombie culture. @ play football everyday football winter time football, dont need sun. And then we play cricket. 40 legs of cricket. 3 days later im counting up the runs
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 11:44 AM UTC
I’ve got better things to do
Than not drink orange soda
My winter is long enough
Without that summer in a bottle
It’s the taste of my youth
That magic orange soda
Fanta, Crush, or Sunkist
They all take me there
Carbonated sweet sun
This icy orange soda
Every sip is a portal in time
Take me back, take me back
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 1:58 PM UTC
There was once
This dream I had
Of a land so far away
Cotton trees
And licorice grass
This place was made to play
Roads were made
Of chocolate bars
Safe from the lemon head sun
Not until
The peach ringed trees
Did I feel some honest fun
I climbed
And I climbed
And I still climbed some more
I looked
Over the branches
There was much to explore!
This strange dream
Has got me now
This is better than I know
Oh my my!
Think what it's like
When this place begins to snow!
Sprinkle flakes
Of candy snow
Which I catch upon my tongue
Imagine
Summertime
Sweet candy rays of sun
Think of
Candy corn
Grown up from this dream itself
Snow caps
And Fanta seas
From real life this dream excels
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC
the coke machine
up on the hill,
the hill it’s been on
for forty years or
more,
reads in angry red
letters:
SOLD OUT
the coke
the diet coke
the sprite
the fanta
and
the mello yellow
too
all gone
but it still begs
for your dollar
fifty
even though
it can’t give you
anything back
the forty year-
old coke machine
up on the hill
is sold out
but it’s still thirsty
and so are
you
Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 3:01 PM UTC
Once upon a time
Coca Cola, Sprite & Fanta had a fight
They fought over who is the best among them
They fought for hours but couldn't agree
Then they finally decided to find someone neutral
After searching whole day
They finally found a man laying on the ground
He was so thirsty, that he could hardly move
They asked him to have a sip of their soft drink
He took sips from all three cold drinks one by one
After all he was so thirsty
When they asked him which was the best
He said doesn't matter they all relieve my thirst
Then they realize they are all doing the same job
It is just the difference of color, flavor and taste
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 10:34 PM UTC
I throw this *****
like a tantrum
He say my name
like a mantra
Slappin clappin ***
like a hand drum
Had him so thirsty ask him
"Don't you want a fanta?"
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
I tried to throw the phone on the bed,
but threw the glass instead,
sprinkling ***** and fanta fruit twist like holy water,
This is where I hurl my head
and wake, and wake, and wake.
Crust seals the eye like a crypt.
Dreamscape duvet: paint your colours,
Phantasmagorical shadows sweep the brow,
walls blend blurred images,
dream friends pass like flocks of birds faceless in flight.
I could ask you what it’s like to be a character in my dream,
make it all about me or you could tell me I’m a character in yours.
Shatter my reality,
tell me I’m your worst nightmare.
From corner of eye’s mind the luminescence of lamplight spills.
A startled stumbling, a fumbling with covers out of worlds and into new ones.
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 3:48 PM UTC
All I know about Beau
is that there are about
six and half feet
between his head and
his shoes.
All I know about Beau
is that most of his paycheck goes to CEO of Fanta
and on a good day
he can carry four glass
bottles at a time.
All I know about Beau
is that today for lunch he had expensive ice
cream in a waffle cone.
All I know about Beau
is that I have never seen him smile.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 9:19 PM UTC
i am a blade tucked safely in Tupperware
my lonely teeth hidden under clammy pillow
feel these nightmares like they were yours
i could blush with you all night
when my mouth feels dry
it is not from the absence of presence
but from the rotundity cascade
that your hair ebbs as it collides with mine
i'd like to think this folly is something
i can put on the centerfold
a gift too pronounced with an utter
of my masked gravity inside all the
beer you pour into a proud papercup
days shrink into nothingness
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 1:06 AM UTC
turned 25 and thought
gotta go back,
high-time for home
(home-time for High)
took the bus, route 31
to the
moral-less high-ground
(text my sister)
"no ID, aware, i'm going"
look up. and
here we are again, big city
New City
south-side, home despots
licking baby bottle pop
soda-can sidewalks
little brown brother
drinking Fanta with friends
smoking hot-pot
at Chang's
like apostolic gang
(gang gang)
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC