Usually, Shakespeare gives me goose bumps. The guy knows everything. Like some ancient angel quill-ing out blueprints life. Hiding it in fiction. And usually I love the sound of the words, the way they dance on the page. Today, they fall flat. My attention bobbing in the cosmos. All free brain-space is marinating in gap month fizz. I chew my pen, candy-cane style. The million possibilities ahead make it hard to care about right now. I write my answers slowly, each letter carved in stone not ballpoint. I'm going to explore the world, find my passion, try everything! The fizz shoots up my spine and a smile sprouts.
No, Roger had not seen the funny side. But there had been a moment when, after looking at his watch, he had thought: I can remember when Christmas morning would start at about half past ten with a glass of Buck's Fizz in bed. Now it begins at half past five, with a test of my fine motor skills and ability to read Korean.
Scuba diving, from the beginning, had an air of dangerous allure. Every landlocked schoolboy knew of its intriguing hazards: the bends, which caused a diver's veins to fizz with carbonated blood until he died a ghastly, percolating death; and rapture of the deep, which took away his reason, filled his heart with false contentment, and drew him down into the ocean gloom.
I love the sound of a brand-new bottle of coke when you pry the lid off and it starts to fizz. Whenever I hear that sound, I think of roses, and of sitting together with someone you care about and of Romeo and Juliet waking up somewhere and saying to each other, weren't we jerks? And then having all that be over. That's what I think of when I hear the sound of a brand-new bottle of Coke being opened
Gary D. Schmidt
PLUS, FOR THE CREW LIKE COOLY FOLK MIXING UP THE GUINNESS WITH THE RAW EGG YOLK COS IT'S ALL ABOUT STRENGTH WHILE WE WALK THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SNIPE, HEATHENS GET THEE FROM MY SIGHT, YOU CATS IS EVER EAGER TO PREACH UP IN MY FACE WHEN YOU JUST ABOUT SCRAPE TO KNOW ALL THAT IS HOW THE HELL YOU TRY TO TELL ME COCA-COLA GOT FIZZ? I READ YOUR PAMPHLET FOUR TIMES, IT DON'T MAKE SENSE YOU FRONT LIKE URI SCHOLAR, SHIT SMELLS PRETENCE YOUS BEST GET OFF YOUR HORSE, DRINK YOUR MILK, GET THE FRIG OUT IT GOES
How many rappers in the game have "little" in front of their name? Lil' Wayne, Lil' Boosie it's a lil' shame Lil' Flip, Lil' Cease, yo they not the same Lil' Wyte, Lil' Mama, where Lil' Zane? Little Brother, Lil' Jon, and Lil' Fame Real hip hop, not about your lil' chain Lil' Keke, Lil' Kim a lil' freaky Lil' Fizz, Illegal with Lil' Maliky Lil' Mo, Lil' Bow Wow had beef with Lil' Romeo A lil' teenager told me so...
It's only sixteen ninety-five, " I say with a flutter of my lashes. "You're serious." I prop my hands on my waist and stick out a hip, striking a pose worthy of a supermodel. "Look at me. Don't I look serious?" She collapses into the chair outside the dressing room in a fit of giggles so cute they make my insides fizz. "No! You must be stopped, " she says. "Why?" I strut down an aisle of yellowed lingerie, swiveling my hips, batting bras with flicks of my fingers. "I will be the king of the disco. I will be-" I spin and strike another pose. "An inspiration." She sniffs and swipes at her eyes. "The real Dylan would die before he'd be seen in public in something like that." "The real Dylan is boring." I brace my hands on the arms of her chair and lean down until our faces are a whisper apart. "And he's not one fourth the kisser I am." "Is that right?" Her lips quirk. "You know it is." Her smile melts, and her breath comes faster. "Yeah. I do.
Breath (from the book Blue Bridge) Whispering to myself With every step I take, Trying out names, for I know There is something yet to be called ... I know it, something up ahead Just around the bend Or over the rise - A bird taking to the sky From the edge of a jagged cliff - A bird floating outwards In silence ... A silence Waiting for a footstep To crunch on stones, For a voice to fling upward Through sharp sunlight With a name... calling Before the bird could call Before the bird called. Oh the bird was there alright And sure it took flight When it heard me approach But it broke my heart With a mighty croak! So I'm sitting here playing With a purple flower Slender stem, no leaves Purple fizz - And it's quiet again. I am still I am nothing And the hill Is a long, long slope Down, down, down to the sea Far below. I could roll I could run I could scream But I am nothing. A cool wind blows And the light is naked and nameless And the rocks are faces of angels And the bird in the sky wheels And cries to forget the earth And its ancient bones - Oh, sensual pain - Wings... Wings... Wings, Singing wings. If only I could begin To describe the emptiness Which fills me to the brim With new breath I might almost lose my name And take instead a feather for my soul.