"fizzled" poems
J'étais fou de toi. J'ai été
I will never forget
the more I wanted (you)
the less I was.
If a dark night is for dancing -
will you come waltz with me?
from the top of a hill
she never heard
which way to down
and never felt
a connection underneath
a missing note
a deviate step
a vapor mist
our kisses never met
a hollow cavern
a hole forever closed
inside and out
like tar water run-off from a hopeless ash basin
an unending drizzle of forever ending dribble that fizzled ... out
help me dear earth
if you really want to be mine
blacken the soil and ink the green
in deeper ferns we reappear
as lava flows to shore.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 1:41 AM UTC
***Estranged in summer rains'
landscaped dissolution
evincing season's discontent
neath sun's suffocating alienation;
used to rhyme with warmth
and effulgent delectation,
emotional realms fizzled in a
heated halfhearted sizzle
of down-pour's restless manifestations***
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
As the minutes drift into hours
I stare at the flowers
That died the day you left.
And they say keepers win in the war of finders,
But I'm not so sure.
Cos, the reminders
Of what used to be.
Have soured.
And I try and devour
Memories,
Spaces, faces, places
That we shared.
And I choke on some, and others slide down.
--
And I wander if I even cross your mind, my love
And do you remember the time
You said that you'd always be mine
And that forever was too short a time
For you and I.
Those lies you spun, like a spiders web,
Took place, built homes
Inside my head
And I didn't try to relocate
Because all I could do was appreciate
That someone finally cared.
And those memories that we shared,
Those faces, spaces and places
They're all so vivid.
I can smell the scent of your sweet perfume, and feel the water
Splash
When we went down that log floom
And we both held on so tight,
We were determined not to let eachother go. With all our might.
So what happened, my love?
What changed inside that beautiful frame of yours
What's the reason you began to close all of those doors
And lock me out.
Cos it's strange to be a stranger
And I don't like the danger
That comes with
Not knowing who I am, or you were.
And the uncertainty of who we were together.
Cos the forever we promised
Has been and gone, and call me crazy
But I expected to hold on to it
A little longer.
I thought we were stronger.
Your honey gold hair hung
Down over your face
As you told me about these places and spaces that we shared
Could be no more
My world crashed and burned
And fizzled out
And I found new ammunition
To tear myself apart
To pull to pieces
My damaged heart.
And once I was done
I hung the picture frame
You threw onto the floor
On a sign on the doors,
Saying keep out.
And my barriers went up
But my walls crumbled down
Tell me,
Are you around, my love?
Are you laughing and smiling
And have you moved on...
2013 ©
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 2:30 PM UTC
When you boil it down,
really get down to the flesh,
bone;
marrow;
mitochondria;
I am nothing but a fizzled
thing
pushing
third-rate
pulses
out of a fourth-rate heart;
that's why when I ***** you to me
in an impermanent cowgirl;
chest
to
chest;
a good, running thump
is answered
by a
descending blip.
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 9:50 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
1. Loss of Motivation. Check.
2. Procrastinating. Check.
3. Lowering Grades. Check.
4. Health Problems. Check.
5. Exhaustion/Lack of Energy. Check.
I can't help but stare at the F.
Like a crime scene photo of the ****** of my grades.
I missed classes. Deadlines.
Struggled with anxiety and depression.
And yet even though I am haunted by these feelings.
I can't bring myself to care.
I thought it was so many things.
but perhaps I have just fizzled out.
It just me.
My problem.
There's no foul play,
My brain just decided to commit academic suicide.
We threw the toaster into the bathwater,
and jumped right in.
Nov 3, 2022
Nov 3, 2022 at 3:02 PM UTC
Hadn’t changed numbers.
A voice bristled in my ear,
said why not then, it’s been years.
Months passed.
An amalgam of frail strained hearts,
smells on pillows we tried to lose.
Chose the boulevard in the end,
gaudy nostalgia blazing
like a forest fire in my eyes.
I waited.
Ran a finger over rails
those skaters we knew marked,
back when something called lust
fizzled between you them and me,
through the airwaves;
the lyrics can still trickle
on my tongue if you ask nicely.
Peroxide-blondes, men with muscles
the size of marrows,
a summer pick ‘n’ mix
lacking in looks, in fine taste.
Went to read a book in the sea
for a while,
slurped up half a pint in chapters
then lost the plot again.
That’s when you came
in polka dots,
a pack of colourful taffy
swinging idly from a wrist,
peanut-butter cups
like lily-pads on your palm.
As if you’d never left,
same number, name, face.
Forgot what goodbye was,
tripped over a lost hello.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
Opposites attract.
An object with a negative charge will attract an object with a positive charge–
Until they touch.
This collision transfers electrons from one object to the other–
Distributing appropriately.
The objects are now equally charged–
And repel each other.
Was that our problem?
We became too close? Collided too hard?
Does this explain why our spark fizzled out?
Why this attraction became repulsion?
Did my desire for intimacy lead to our demise?
Did I miscalculate the consequences of our contact?
Was our embrace the end?
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 12:02 AM UTC
The sky, a plate
in kindly blue,
smooth
as the ceramic face
of this, my swimming pool;
the bobbing palm
glazing the back
of my starfish shape
like white liquid icing;
sweet, the water's after-taste;
gently
pungent smell lodged
in the nape of my neck
I will wash the blue
off my skin, in a tiled doll-box
cubicle
I will smell the smell fade
out of my fizzled wet-strung hair
just as sugar dissipates
into the hot
nothingness of drinks.
I will pretend to forget,
then forget
I was offered a plate
in a summery shade, bordered by
tree branches
I was in that half
amniotic vessel -
weightless
as a seed pearl in
an ocean or a lover
exhaling in the depths
of a kiss;
a posy of
air on liquid.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 6:12 AM UTC
He has never been like other little boys
That play so happily with their toys
He is different is young Raymond Bliss
He wants to grow up to be....a mad scientist
While others play with toy soldiers and cars
Or pretend to be astronauts in the stars
Little Raymond is chasing his pet cat instead
Determined he will catch him and cut off his head
He tried getting the dog who put up a fight
Poor Raymond gave up when he got a nasty bite
So he dug up his hamster, who passed away when overfed
He tied the body to a car battery to try and raise the dead
Unfortunately the dead hamster fizzled and went pop
It made Raymond jump in fright, it made him hop
So he decided to dig up the goldfish as well
Then he decided against it, because of the smell
Now there are plans drawn up, to be unfurled
His evil scheme now hatched to take over the world
Raymond wants to set vampire robot bunnies on man kind
It is just a shame because his pocket money he can not find
His mother says "time for bed" so he sulks up to his room
This his prison from whence he plots doom and gloom
He is a very strange boy is little Raymond Bliss
Determined to be the most evil mad scientist
Jul 27, 2010
Jul 27, 2010 at 1:37 AM UTC
Don't think I'll go on, but I can
my mother is kicking me out
and I've never had a plan.
Fizzled out with your opening
crushed like a soda pop can
so insecure, pushed you away
because you know just who I am.
On such a breathless downward spiral
and I think I'll stay here a while.
baggy shirts and sunken eyes
has become my style.
I'm a muddled, mangy mess, no surprise
I think I'll just stay a child
be soft in my stride
for just a little while
until I learn to get by.
Oct 25, 2023
Oct 25, 2023 at 1:46 AM UTC
The gnomes sang and danced while the faeries all pranced
and the elfins got drunk by the fire
The pixies hummed tunes and got ****** on mushrooms
I can't remember what happened to the choir.
Sethark the lord of the dark was roused from his sleep by the din
the djinn in the lamp though he at first appeared camp
wished up the drawbridge and pulled in the ramp.
This gathering, like babies were safe in the glades
while Sethark from Hades was sharpening the blades.
But it all fizzled out when Sethark gave a shout
to a beautifully jewelled little lady
and they tarried away somewhere deep in the hay
and the result was a devilish imp of a baby.
The party goes on though the pixies have gone
because too many mushrooms had doomed them
and now they're doomed to the glens
banished from the fens
No longer to hum or strum on guitars
nor sing sweet melodies to the brightest of stars
sad tales are told by old faeries and gnomes
of pixies evicted from family homes
but they know in their bones that it should have been them in the glen
but say nothing of this thing
or bad luck they will bring on you.
The story that's told is quite true
Believe if you wish
and if you wish it
it's true.
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
There is no snow, a left turn is a careening roll
7, 8, 9 times, all along the road
Until the carriage turns over and makes us again feel whole
We count the moments that it stays, before it encrypts code
Juxtapose, lizards and rats, seagulls and bats
The underlying message is psychological attack
And when she opened up her mouth she let out a hack
So devastating and depressing that she turned and spat
These old bones and these old dreams are a glimpse of what's passed
And though the skies are turning gray, the blues, in mind, will last
A silver lining is a metaphor, it's never really been
A line designed to separate the sadness from the sin
My friends tell me I am a crosswalk between truth and hate
But in the end the truth is those who despise can relate
Detesting the human race is something worth the time
That's taken to reflect on my stubborn, fizzled mind
A shotgun is all we need to see the light of day
And one bullet is all it takes for them to steal it away
So grab your jewelry and your cash and clip them to your vest
Because your family wants to know the score when you lay to rest
Faultless isn't really a word, thoughtless is a theology
You say spell cat, I say spell Keynesian economy
Aristotle spent years trying to prove epistemology
Existentialism wiped him out with one written dichotomy.
Waiting for my ride to get to the drop of dreams
And when I take just enough I will be caught up in screams
The world around is shaking violently and everything gleams
And the golden from the sunshine on the buildings are my streams
I want to lie in branches made of paper and long legs
Keeping our eyes open, we're all stepping over eggs
Is it any wonder why my strife and struggles bleed?
A warm body and an acid bath are all I truly need.
Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 6:57 PM UTC
i remember when I first hear her voice…
just that one simple word
“Hello”
And my mind became whole…
Filled with images of
Us walking hand in hand through the
Chaos wielding nothing to protect us
But the other’s smile…
As our voices reverb on the walls surrounding us
Returning the beauty back into the eyes
Of those entranced by the serenity
Caused just by her presence
I remember gazing into her eyes
And sharing the first kiss
While riding across the bridge
On that big cheese bus…
As my lips touched hers…
And our thoughts unified…
A rainbow of emotion
Shone into our lives…
And the passion forged then
Shall grow forevermore
I still dream
Of the vows
We spoke of making…
I to her
Her to i
Of eternal love
& pure devotion…
But the bond fell short
And the feelings fizzled out…
But I’m waiting for they day
They re-ensue
The time is now
Our bond’s re-forged…
I’ll have her back here in my heart…
As this plethora of
Prismatic…
Emotions eminates outwards
All that’s left here is
A flower blooming
within
Sep 12, 2009
Sep 12, 2009 at 4:10 PM UTC
And those pretty little firefly's
that used to illuminate
the sockets of your eyes
must have been soaked up by your crys
must have fizzled out and died,
inside of you.
Because there's no longer
that burning light
that used to ignite a room
And put the stars to shame.
And since they died out,
you haven't been the same.
And honey, i can try to ignite them again,
With all i have,
But I've done all i can do
darling the match lies in you.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
There was a boy
And a pretty girl
The boy thought,
I'll give her a whirl
She passed, "You're hot--hot as the sun"
He felt a very clever one
She stopped when she heard it,
And then she turned
"Don't get too close to the sun,
You might get burned"
Not heeding her,
"How close can I get?"
I'm not going to let her walk off just yet
She glared at him, hiding mischievous smiles
"No less than 93 million miles "
At the end of his wits,
As she strolled out of range,
He yelled, "But how can I get closer?"
"Maybe with season change!"
And as she disappeared from sight,
The horizon fizzled out
And the new moon glittered
And all the stars came out
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 3:41 PM UTC
*appetizing and delicious
wholesome and nutritious
enchanting and appealing
rich, tasty and unforgettable
is the simplest of shared fare
when taken with comrades
in the lull before the storm
when surreptitious glances
could be the last for some
and memories the testimony
to life's ambivalent transience
farewell comrades in love
to you belongs the glory
of mistaken ideas and inertia
and we who fizzled out long ago
salute you the lucky beneficiaries
of our pain and sorrow that are
your surfeit and your happiness*
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
From puppyhood's hour I have not peed,
As others sniffed, I have not gleaned,
As others pawed, I could not seem,
To bark along with the canine teams.
From the hydrants red and wet with drizzle,
I have ne'er to leave my yellow stream,
For my bladder had all fizzled,
Clogged with endless hordes of fleas.
Then- at the vet's, one gloomy dawn,
A very strange device was drawn,
And poked and prodded where I ill,
Then I was forced to take a pill.
Then from the torrent of this river,
My shaggy fur began to quiver,
Upon my haunches did indeed I rose,
Feeling wetly coldness on my nose,
Then the raging yellow stream,
At last dislodged itself of fleas,
And to my great and sweet relief,
They lay a bone befor my feet.
_____________________
The original poem:
Share |
Alone
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
--edgar allan poe
Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 9:40 AM UTC
He was a Breathtaker. A royal, high-class, naturally-born, take-it-or-leave-it Breathtaker. I had never seen one before in real life, only heard about them in the tales of a girl's childhood.
The first day he took my Breath was in a parking lot. He stood there alone in the parking lot, with his sparklers in hand, and wrote words in the air for no one but himself to see. He hummed while he wrote, haphazardly opening his mouth slightly, in a never-ending melody.
Later, I found out that the words he wrote in the air would later be turned into music, beautiful songs that could lift your feet off the ground and give your soul the wings to fly. But this first night, I knew nothing of the breathtaker's ability to create such beauty.
The lit end of the sparkler seemed to be a metaphor for the Breathtaker's aura. Shining, energetic, with a tendency to mezmerize. One didn't want to stop watching his mind at work.
So I sat there in the grass and watched him. Looking at the swift motion of his arms, I became entranced by the passion with which he worked. So quickly, I couldn't even pick up much of what he was writing. One could easily tell, however, that he wasn't going to forget a word of it.
I, however, had brought my typewriter for such an occasion. I sat there and typed words that he made me feel. The first line was "intrigue. night sky. man. electricity fingers. fizzled feelings. stranger. lips. curls. air. no breath."
And so my Breath was hardpressed to move. It entered my mouth and stopped, right below my soft palette, not wanting to enter further. My Breathing was very shallow, almost a soft hyperventilation, caught between time moving and time paused.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 10:29 PM UTC
i have just moved all our pictures
into the hidden folder
the graveyard of memories
my heart aches with endless yearning
sorrow, grief and regret
our love was so short-lived
like a helpless little kitten
that died before it ever got a chance
to fully experience the wonders of life
our love was a flickering candle flame
that burnt so bright
and fizzled so soon
my tattooed golden retriever
my soldier, my love
you said it was "right person, wrong time"
but what if the timing could never favour upon us?
what if we could never find our way back to each other?
May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 5:30 AM UTC
you took my ****** rags and smeared them with your spit-- taped naked pictures to the wall of that dungeon until all he could see was your body, and your body alone. you loaded the pistol and shot yourself in the foot, when I noticed the bleeding you said it was just a flesh-wound. he finally fizzled your toes from out of your shoe, a dark cinderella-meets-the-prince-in-the-dark, and I saw that the wound was so open and gangrenous that little spritz of dried blood had formed faces and tears on the soles of your torn-and-tumbled canvas shoes.
you tried to say sorry. you pleaded and pleaded and said you'd take pistol-to-head or pistol-to-heart to be rid of the pain of my gargled and gutted reaction. you cried and you cried, our hearts sunk to the bottom of plastic-now stomachs.. but forgiveness is no microwave. forgiveness is a ballpark in steep Illinois summer heat where you drink to stay hydrated, think to stay sane, and write to the titter of tears on your chest.
Now heal your wound, antibiotic the gangrene. Just better the soles of your feet.
I'm already walking and walking and walking 'til my face meets obliterate sun.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
I'm so broken by this gory sight.
Children smashed on the wall by adults,
who I'm sure are also fathers of children,
all because of religious sentiments.
Is it related to religious and ethnic cleansing,
I cannot say and do not know exactly,
but whichever one it is,
it is actually not allowed and,
you have no moral justification to **** a child
or anyone at all for the sake of religion.
Whatever reason any religion
have in order to **** so I can be
converted into believing in your God is totally
and completely out of place.
So wrong in all its ramifications.
There's no law or reason for you to be
forceful in winning my love for your God.
You messed with my faith which is my strength.
You took away my dignity and my pride,
my culture,my tradition and my language.
My whole life fizzled out because of you,
I can't remember my past
because you changed my name.
Your religion becomes my pain,
and not my passion.
Forced to be a follower not of my will.
That is not who I was but who you
want me to become not of my choice.
You want to take my history,my identity
and my humanity with violence.
Let me hasten to tell you something
you probably don't know,
as long as God is on the throne,
that will never happen.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 10:43 AM UTC
6 o clock dandelion
fluffy wish wand fairy dusters
filled the fields where
wild flowers fizzled
over a rough green sky.
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 12:47 AM UTC
(PARODY, SATIRE & TRIBUTE)
From puppyhood's hour I have not peed,
As others sniffed, I have not gleaned,
As others pawed, I could not seem,
To bark along with the canine teams.
From the hydrants red and wet with drizzle,
I have ne'er to leave my yellow stream,
For my bladder had all fizzled,
Clogged with endless hordes of fleas.
Then- at the vet's, one gloomy dawn,
A very strange device was drawn,
And poked and prodded where I ill,
Then I was forced to take a pill.
Then from the torrent of this river,
My shaggy fur began to quiver,
Upon my haunches did indeed I rose,
Feeling wetly coldness on my nose,
Then the raging yellow stream,
At last dislodged itself of fleas,
And to my great and sweet relief,
They lay a bone befor my feet.
_______
The original poem:
Share |
Alone
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
--edgar allan poe
Sep 18, 2010
Sep 18, 2010 at 6:23 AM UTC