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#fluid
~'From the Halls of Inspiration'~ **** This guy won't give me a break! Every message, Gives me pause, When you are on hold, when you're my old, Cripes, it ain't nice, Got these new poems swirling, overlapping in a well rested head, Partially born fetuses, puppy squeaking, demanding momma's milk, Insistent, like puppies who refuse to cease from licking, nibbling your Noses & Toes, Along comes the greatest almost comical line I've ever reen (read & seen) And don't mind sharing with you folk, A STELLAR INSIGHT, Poems are dragged, kicking and screaming, slimy covered in Amniotic fluid thick creamery. BETTER WASH YOUR HANDS, YOUR BRAINS, Lest them new poems keep on keepin' on And somewhere a tinny voice screeches, More Coffee Ma!
0
Jul 21, 2025
Jul 21, 2025 at 7:44 AM UTC
"If you do touch a poem be sure to wash your hands afterwards; you don't know where that poem has been been!"
the morning chores, a chorus, a litany, a recital, of old, worn words familiar well worn ungloved fists of firsts a deep drink of 11.5 ounces of a cold spring water shocking in~vigor~ates rebalancing a sleep induced deficit a gloried yawn, an exhalation of the overnight staleness, an expulsion of stale residue residuals, leftovers of a prior life, dismissed, yet clinging to your body in vain desirous to be remained part of the landscape of your plain as part of your grandfatherly accumulations but there’s only so much room in your container, and all your liquidities must be replaced that takes space for the fresh withholdings so. drink deep, replace the fluids unique that operate your systems and all the rest will flow, stream easy
0
Mar 19, 2025
Mar 19, 2025 at 8:19 AM UTC
March Madness: Fluid Replacement
I like my hairy legs, They make me feel like a sunbleached cowboy. They make me feel like a long, lean man with elegant lines and a strong forehead. I like it when they’re blonde And they just glisten on my skin. Like a faux-protection or a cloak, A delicate barrier between myself And the world. Or really I guess I just like the way it looks: Textured But smooth. It looks wild but soft. A landscape. I think the hair compliments The shape of me very well. I’m always amazed how the hair grows everywhere, Even on the back of my knees There is hair And I like my boyish pretty toes. I guess I like the sort of genderless aspect to my legs. From far away they shout I AM A WOMAN! But from near they could be anyone’s: hairy with little scars here and there, hairy toes with some dead skin in the toe nail creases. A sort of chunky pink toe there on the end. A bit of dry callous on my heels. A strong, curved calf muscle. The hollows at my ankles, the delicate depression behind my ankle bones just before the rigid wrinkles of my Achilles tendon. I like the bulging veins in the arch of my foot when I point my toes How they press their purple faces against my see-thru skin Squeezed by the muscles that bump against one another beneath the hard arched bones above I like the little bubbles of fat that pad my heels, turning bright yellow when I stand on them Never-smooth legs that even when freshly shaved still prickle Like a cactus “Don’t get too comfortable here” they say These beautiful legs aren’t for rubbing and lounging though my calves love to be pressured These legs are made for exploration
0
Jan 6, 2023
Jan 6, 2023 at 2:45 PM UTC
Hairy Legs
I like my hairy legs, They make me feel like a sunbleached cowboy. They make me feel like a long, lean man with elegant lines and a strong forehead. I like it when they’re blonde And they just glisten on my skin. Like a faux-protection or a cloak, A delicate barrier between myself And the world. Or really I guess I just like the way it looks: Textured But smooth. It looks wild but soft. A landscape. I think the hair compliments The shape of me very well. I’m always amazed how the hair grows everywhere, Even on the back of my knees There is hair And I like my boyish pretty toes. I guess I like the sort of genderless aspect to my legs. From far away they shout I AM A WOMAN! But from near they could be anyone’s: hairy with little scars here and there, hairy toes with some dead skin in the toe nail creases. A sort of chunky pink toe there on the end. A bit of dry callous on my heels. A strong, curved calf muscle. The hollows at my ankles, the delicate depression behind my ankle bones just before the rigid wrinkles of my Achilles tendon. I like the bulging veins in the arch of my foot when I point my toes How they press their purple faces against my see-thru skin Squeezed by the muscles that bump against one another beneath the hard arched bones above I like the little bubbles of fat that pad my heels, turning bright yellow when I stand on them Never-smooth legs that even when freshly shaved still prickle Like a cactus “Don’t get too comfortable here” they say These beautiful legs aren’t for rubbing and lounging though my calves love to be pressured These legs are made for exploration
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33
i am full of ideas and passion , just waiting to set the stage on fire. i am  the bud, just waiting to bloom into a beautiful flower. i am the sun that shows up everyday, all shiny and glittery. i am that written piece , just waiting to turn into a beautiful poem. i am colours that just needs to be poured on a canvas and turn into a bright fluid art. i am that one push needed   i am not giving up on myself , never i have wonders to make and dreams to wake. -vanshita gogri
0
Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 3:07 AM UTC
Dreams
to finally touch a woman was no simple thing. It was in some way, like a newborn crying out; pleading/begging for the gory familiarity of the womb; yet, curious about the doom that awaits: the heartache, the toothache: the sudden rush of blood that meets the cheeks when a moment of terror creeps up. Touching her, in the sublet- paying triple for my own space, I faced her. In the California King: sheets made of nerves and soft humming; I opened my mouth, my hair spilled about. neighbors unaware of the sudden quake of demolition. My body in a construction site, rebuilt, cemented, and collected as an entirely new property. The room carrying me Like a child, eyes opened To what I had been missing.
0
Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 10:25 PM UTC
CONSTRUCTION SITE
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ . ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ everything is living everything is fluid ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ we can turn nickel ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀into iron ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ a sunday ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀into a monday ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a kiss into a lie ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀   listen, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ back behind the shot office ⠀⠀⠀⠀ where we waited ⠀⠀⠀⠀ in line for serum⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀dresses ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ flowed ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ across ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀                    the hills ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ and ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ unyielding nights ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ took in youth ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ and returned lovers ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ([angel.s] repented ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  for the sin of ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  purity AND [i] really do think it was understoo ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀d ⠀⠀⠀⠀),⠀⠀⠀bu/t now we contend• ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀to ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀muddy footprints on courtroom floors ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀an old man getting older pleading his ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀case ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ to the laws of unyielding certainty that rivet the universe together ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
0
Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 12:22 PM UTC
.9twO
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ . ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ everything is living everything is fluid ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ we can turn nickel ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀into iron ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ a sunday ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀into a monday ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a kiss into a lie ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀   listen, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ back behind the shot office ⠀⠀⠀⠀ where we waited ⠀⠀⠀⠀ in line for serum⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀dresses ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ flowed ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ across ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀                    the hills ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ and ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ unyielding nights ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ took in youth ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ and returned lovers ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ([angel.s] repented ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  for the sin of ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  purity AND [i] really do think it was understoo ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀d ⠀⠀⠀⠀),⠀⠀⠀bu/t now we contend• ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀to ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀muddy footprints on courtroom floors ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀an old man getting older pleading his ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀case ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ to the laws of unyielding certainty that rivet the universe together ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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42
I have seen you tracing all the curves, scratching down from A to Z. Some versions of yours were blue, stolen some from the sky's hue. Those letters red in rage, all the emotions that were being caged. Black was the darkest of all, revealing secrets that were never known. The ones in aberrant green, expressed the fervor on the page like a screen. But then as I started to evince, you ran dry without no hints.
0
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 10:44 AM UTC
WET INK
I grew up with God in the wind, and didn't fit in with Christian friends. They told me stories and begged me to repent. Though doubtful, my anxiety sparked at the thought of sin. I was once on a playdate and the mother told me. She disowned her best friend when she confessed she was a lesbian. She told me she could only take her back if she came to her senses. It made me feel sad and sick, with little sympathy for the protagonist. I was once told by a good friend that no one is bisexual, of course they're just confused. I knew who I was but I didn't say anything in rebuttal. I just nodded my head and took the bruise. Once after jokingly seeing my boyfriend and another male friend hold hands, my mother told me "how dare those ******* disrespect you like that." It was a moment that shattered glass and left scars. I managed an apology after too much effort. My stepfather once told me that gender fluidity was a confused phase, and a fad for attention. Walls were put up and notes were taken. Doors remained closed and silence  prevailed. I am complicated. I blend in to "normal" I feel guilty at times and don't feel honest. I undervalue, perhaps, the benefit of looping everyone in. Or, perhaps, I'm just keeping the peace and heeding warning signals. I can say for certain, it's not a fad nor phase. I've always been who I am, I just had to grow up in order to phrase it.
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Jun 24, 2020
Jun 24, 2020 at 12:10 AM UTC
Pride: A Journey
have a look: the [a-ha-ha-ha] platform is packed with commuters dressed in occupational colors   the commuters are not used to smile regularly by the end of a long day [a-ha-ha-ha-aaa] therefore have a closer look: between the commuters you see loosely some guys carrying transparent [hr-ha-a] chunks filled with ***** somebody asks about the fluid now people have a reason to laugh hr-ahem-hrr-ahem-hrrr-i-don't-ha-want-ha-ha-ha-that
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Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 7:54 PM UTC
Speedy ***** Joker
Female now,            I feel it                       I don't know how Or if I fit          I put on a smile          Twist my hair                    I change my style                                     And give off a different air                 Now I'm male                 A distinct feeling                     No longer scared to fail          My confidence reeling I laugh carelessly Loud and bold               Everything so freely                A smile of gold                               The gender slips away                                 And I am left agender                               My feelings sway                                                 My heart and soul so tender                                                 I go about in a quiet way                                             The scenery I'm drinking                                Throughout the day                                         Feeling and thinking                           Both rush back           At the same time            It feels like an attack      Like a serious crime              I can't decide what to do        A wild aura erupts                          I jeer and laugh right on cue                         My sense of self corrupt                           It's called genderfluid               I'm not confused                  I decide to keep it hid                  Because for it I'd be abused               My soul is not content             Living in one way                       It needs more extent                                          And leave behind the cliche
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May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 3:44 PM UTC
?!?!
Female now,            I feel it                       I don't know how Or if I fit          I put on a smile          Twist my hair                    I change my style                                     And give off a different air                 Now I'm male                 A distinct feeling                     No longer scared to fail          My confidence reeling I laugh carelessly Loud and bold               Everything so freely                A smile of gold                               The gender slips away                                 And I am left agender                               My feelings sway                                                 My heart and soul so tender                                                 I go about in a quiet way                                             The scenery I'm drinking                                Throughout the day                                         Feeling and thinking                           Both rush back           At the same time            It feels like an attack      Like a serious crime              I can't decide what to do        A wild aura erupts                          I jeer and laugh right on cue                         My sense of self corrupt                           It's called genderfluid               I'm not confused                  I decide to keep it hid                  Because for it I'd be abused               My soul is not content             Living in one way                       It needs more extent                                          And leave behind the cliche
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40
the mathematical statement in fluid mechanics that, for a fluid passing through a tube in a steady flow, the mass flowing through any section of the tube in a unit of time is constant instantaneous our love defined, a fluid mechanic in the realm of ethereal, where unlimited immeasurable undefinable mass time flow sweat pulse anger forgive caress kind quantifiable terms of our equation unique in this poem no waxing poetic, excellent pure licked lips are quantums and quarks visualized though invisible the flow constant per unit of time from initial good morning kiss to intemperate indulgent good night conclusions submitted here for your analytical digression importuned the square root of the continuity equation's solution is .......
0
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
continuity equation {a fluid mechanics love poem}
I was thinking A thought That turned into flashes of grandeur, greatly mundane, yet profound storytelling of the conscious mind's eye Yet, I fall into the trap of tracing and chasing the dream ... I fall into the trance of tracing back, a transient feel yet, feeling so out of place Placed - here, and here I hear it A thought, that became a stream of opening That fluidness of it's true nature of becoming a story - that never happened - Yet, feels like reality - I wake up And think about my memories of my day to day experience I see them like I see my dreams I can NOT distinguish between one or the other (in past tense) Yet, there is something so real Yet, fake about a memory Because a dream is rememebered the same way as a memory That is the fine line, I constnalty walk upon
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Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 9:32 PM UTC
Dream
Rest assured that you are wanted. At any given time and place. Rest assured that yours is the only face that can soothe my soul. Even if it is sick or sad or flawless and perfect. Beauty is not a static state of seeing. But more a fluid feeling that stays constant. So, whatever you are is is exactly what I desire. Whatever you look like is exactly what I want, need, long to see. Always.
0
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 10:12 AM UTC
Beautiful
I will caress you the same way how to caress me amniotic fluid sea
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Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 7:52 AM UTC
Fluid sea
when you're born a girl. But don't feel like one. When you are forced to go swimming and expose your body. The one that causes all the pain and dysphoria. Oh how much it ***** having boys staring at your ***** When you want to be one of them.
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Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 8:14 AM UTC
when being a boy
Maybe brief, perhaps longer but in this moment I am She. It’s fluid, isn’t it? To decide upon being Her, rather than the prolonged Masculine---- that’s not to say I won’t be Him again. This is liquid consideration, rolling down my neck, my collarbone, breast, navel---- It was so obvious when I felt it like a switch-flip, dynamite ignite---- Boom. He is She. I am She. Now name me, for I am born unto this magnificence---- A body, a mind---- Mine. His. Ours. Stronger than any, mightier than all. Breathe me life for I am valid---- in this moment, we are goddess. I am Now.
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Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 10:37 AM UTC
I'm awake.
I feel like water Transparent Fluid I can’t commit to your mold I can drown out your eyes Roll down and salt your tongue Drip on your chest Smear against your lips but try to contain me Tip me over and I’ll spill Tick me off and I’ll boil over Walk away and I will freeze I want a color A flavor A shape I want to be distinct But all I can do is flow Gravity pulls me where it wants And it’s out of my control
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 12:54 AM UTC
water
I'm a girl But somedays I'm a boy
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May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
Fluid