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Onomatopoeia Firework Poems

By Callie Feyen 16 Comments

<a href="http://www.ghengisfireworks.com/">Ghengis Fireworks</a>
For better or for worse, the word “firework” is one of those words we feel—I’ve broken out in hives, and I’ve felt my heart beat for pure joy of seeing millions of sparkles exploding in the sky. I was reminded of this last week when my husband, Jesse, and I took our daughters, Hadley and Harper, to the July 4th fireworks show.

Truth be told, I was exhausted after a bike ride, being at the pool all day in 90-degree heat, and, while I hate to complain about the longer hours of daylight in Michigan, my patience was waning waiting for the first blast of color I knew wouldn’t shoot into the sky until well after 9:30 at night.

Jesse lit sparklers for the girls as we waited in an open field in a neighboring town. Being in this field  was difficult, as even though it’s been two years since we moved, I am exhausted from trying so hard to fit in, from making friends, from figuring out what job I should pursue, from learning my way around (both literally and figuratively). Sitting somewhere I haven’t sat before was a reminder of all the newness that surrounds me. I wanted to feel something nostalgic.

“Are these for us?” A little girl next to us asked, exuberantly and hopefully, as the first fireworks shot up into the air and sprinkled the sky with white, gold, green, and red lights. I chuckled and was thankful for the reminder to look for gifts everywhere and to be in awe that, yes, they are for us.

“I like the sizzle they make,” a gentleman behind me said in a gruff voice. I didn’t turn to look at him, but he sounded distinctly Midwestern, and I imagined he worked with his hands most of the day. I imagined he was wearing a denim work shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and maybe a Detroit Tigers baseball cap, that beautiful and confident “D” scripted in the center. I agreed with him, although didn’t say it: I liked the sizzle the fireworks made too.

“Watch how they squiggle,” Hadley said, pointing and yelling to us over the crackles and bangs. She was smiling, and she looked like she did when she was a toddler, and my heart swelled for my girl who is also figuring out her world and her place in it. Where does she fit in? Who are her friends? What is she good at? Indeed, these fireworks are for her too, and it’s good to notice their squiggle and to be joyous because of it.

“The sparkles falling down sound like rain on a window,” Harper said, holding her stuffed Winnie-the-Pooh that she’s had since she was four months old. I told her in the car she probably shouldn’t take him to the fireworks because I was afraid he’d get lost, but really, I was nervous how others would react to my girl holding her beloved Bear. “And the smoke is the ghost of a past firework,” she said, holding Bear up towards the sky, the fireworks’ reflection glittering in her rose-pink rimmed glasses.

“I wish I was a firework,” the little girl next to us declared. “I would never turn to melt.”

I laced my fingers with Jesse’s and leaned towards him.

“I’m so glad we are here,” I told him, and I didn’t only mean this field, this night. I meant I’m glad to be with my family, wherever we are, looking for and acknowledging the gifts that sparkle around us.

When we got home, I jotted down an attempt at an onomatopoeia poem about fireworks:

Squiggle
Sizzle
Sparkles falling down –
sound like
rain on a window.

I wish I was a firework,
I would never turn to melt.

 

May my memories that so many times feel like fireworks bursting in my heart and mind never, never melt.

_______________

For this week’s prompt, let’s write Onomatopoeia Firework Poetry.

Quick Definition

Onomatopoeic words are words that sound like their meanings: buzz, crackle, thunk, hustle.

Try It

  1. Make a list of words that sound like fireworks.
  2. Create your poem around those words (it doesn’t have to rhyme).
  3. Post your poem in the comments of this post.

Happy Writing!

Here are a couple of examples from my daughters, Hadley and Harper.

Featured Poem

Thanks to everyone who participated in our recent poetry prompt. Here’s a poem from Donna that we enjoyed.

After-weather Report

I could scarcely hear my friend
Over the tinkling of diamonds
Dangling in the evening sun
Suspended one by one
From tips of a thousand pine needles
Sparkling
Like a crown
Atop her head.

—Donna Falcone

Photo by Norman Wilkinson, Creative Commons, via Flickr. Post by Callie Feyen, author of The Teacher Diaries: Romeo & Juliet.

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  • Author
  • Recent Posts
Callie Feyen
Callie Feyen
Callie Feyen likes Converse tennis shoes and colorful high heels, reading the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, and the Twilight series. Her favorite outfit has always been a well-worn pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, but she wants hoop skirts with loads of tulle to come back into style. Her favorite line from literature comes from Sharon Creech’s Absolutely Normal Chaos: “I don’t know who I am yet. I’m still waiting to find out.” Feyen has served as the At-Risk Literacy Specialist in the Ypsilanti Public Schools and is the author of Twirl: my life with stories, writing & clothes and The Teacher Diaries: Romeo and Juliet.
Callie Feyen
Latest posts by Callie Feyen (see all)
  • Poetry Prompt: Courage to Follow - July 24, 2023
  • Poetry Prompt: Being a Pilgrim and a Martha Stewart Homemaker - July 10, 2023
  • Poetry Prompt: Monarch Butterfly’s Wildflower - June 19, 2023

Filed Under: Blog, Fireworks, writing prompts

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About Callie Feyen

Callie Feyen likes Converse tennis shoes and colorful high heels, reading the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, and the Twilight series. Her favorite outfit has always been a well-worn pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, but she wants hoop skirts with loads of tulle to come back into style. Her favorite line from literature comes from Sharon Creech’s Absolutely Normal Chaos: “I don’t know who I am yet. I’m still waiting to find out.” Feyen has served as the At-Risk Literacy Specialist in the Ypsilanti Public Schools and is the author of Twirl: my life with stories, writing & clothes and The Teacher Diaries: Romeo and Juliet.

Comments

  1. L.L. Barkat says

    July 9, 2018 at 12:14 pm

    The gifts are many, yes, if we are open to them.

    I loved that little girl’s “Are these for us?”

    Yes, darling, this

    sizzle swizzle sky
    stars alight
    and the ghosts
    in flight
    will never melt
    if you hold them
    in your mind’s
    eye.

    Pop and sigh
    and ribbons of smoke
    will wrap, unwrap,
    and wrap
    again, in your

    sparkle

            glitter

    ever after

        dreams.

    Reply
    • Kortney Garrison says

      July 9, 2018 at 6:46 pm

      Love the swizzle! Puts me in mind of a certain Golden Dress!

      Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      July 13, 2018 at 9:34 am

      “Ghosts in flight/will never melt/if you hold them/in your mind’s/eye” made me cry, and I will tell Harper this. And now I am thinking of all the ghosts in flight I hold in my mind’s eye that I don’t want to melt.

      Thanks for writing. Your words are a gift.

      Reply
  2. Sandra Heska King says

    July 9, 2018 at 6:14 pm

    My grand girl introduced me to this term when she was in second grade. 🙂

    Mama flycatcher flits and fwooshes
    Quick three beers, quick three beers
    pip, pip, pip.
    Nesting babies peep, peep, peep
    Little Big Creek burbles, gurgles, trickles, splishes . . .

    Wait wrong topic. These were sounds I’m carrying from my daughter’s back deck.

    Fireworks…

    swish, swish,
    sizzle, sizzle
    boom, Boom
    BANG!

    Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      July 13, 2018 at 9:32 am

      I love both, but your first one gave me a chuckle. What a great summer scene!

      Reply
  3. Donna says

    July 9, 2018 at 10:50 pm

    What fun! I love way the words make me re-imagine my favorite types of fireworks….. and parties on the deck!

    Thank you for featuring my poem. 🙂

    Reply
  4. Katie says

    July 10, 2018 at 11:09 am

    Fireworks
    go whiz, boom, bang
    craning our necks we see them
    shooting up, they shimmer, glimmer
    air bling.

    *****

    zip, crinkle, crackle
    fizz, sssp, whhhh, screeeech, pop, pop, pop
    celebrate Freedom!

    Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      July 13, 2018 at 9:30 am

      I stopped on the word, “craning” in this poem. I think that’s a perfect word for this instance, and I think it is also a word that I feel. There’s a bit of effort in craning one’s neck, don’t you think?

      Reply
      • Katie says

        July 13, 2018 at 5:44 pm

        Oh yes! My neck always gets so tired while looking up at the fireworks on the 4th. Suppose I don’t do much craning on other nights of the year – might have to change that. After all, God has his own “light show” on display every night.
        Thank you, Callie:)

        Reply
  5. Marilyn says

    July 10, 2018 at 10:11 pm

    Screeee
    The rockets, climbing up up up
    My boys, scurrying down the hill
    and nestling into my waiting arms

    Boom
    The fire, blooming then wilting in a blink
    My heart, popping against its bony cage,
    willing this moment to stay

    Sizzle shhhhh
    The last sparkles, raining down
    a smoky cloud
    A sigh, sending bated breath up to the sky

    How many more fourth of Julys?

    Reply
    • Bethany R. says

      July 11, 2018 at 7:10 pm

      I was touched by your poem, Marilyn. Thank you for writing and sharing it here.

      Reply
      • Bethany R. says

        July 11, 2018 at 7:12 pm

        I haven’t gotten to read the rest of the comments yet, but hope to. 🙂

        Reply
      • Marilyn says

        July 13, 2018 at 12:29 pm

        Thank you Bethany, for reading and for your kind words!

        Reply
    • Callie Feyen says

      July 13, 2018 at 9:28 am

      Ahhh, here is a poem I can feel. Each stanza is a palpable scene.

      Reply
      • Marilyn says

        July 13, 2018 at 12:32 pm

        Thanks for the encouragement, Callie. And maybe more so, thanks for the prompt (and the link to it in the exhale fb group). I’m so glad I took the invitation to take a few minutes and write what I felt from a recent experience. It feels so good, doesn’t it? I don’t do it nearly as often as I’d like.

        Reply

Trackbacks

  1. Sparkler Sensory Poems says:
    July 16, 2018 at 8:00 am

    […] to everyone who participated in our recent poetry prompt. Here’s a poem from Marilyn that we […]

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