"fluky" poems - Hello Poetry

Just me and a map on this little wood boat lost at sea My view is nothing but the oceans serene beauty I have no compass to direct me so I know I'm free Left to wonder endlessly until my eyes get droopy Thinking what is to come on this journey I now realize the only one I can rely on is me This boat is not sturdy and the waves can be very jerky Teaching me that life has no guarantee I envy the weather for being so moody One second so peaceful and clear the next being so dark and whirly Now understanding why mother nature isn't fluky There are reasons for everything I believe that now very firmly

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Jan 24, 2014

Jan 24, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC

enlightened-hippie

Lost but Free

Just me and a map on this little wood boat lost at sea My view is nothing but the oceans serene beauty I have no compass to direct me so I know I'm free Left to wonder endlessly until my eyes get droopy Thinking what is to come on this journey I now realize the only one I can rely on is me This boat is not sturdy and the waves can be very jerky Teaching me that life has no guarantee I envy the weather for being so moody One second so peaceful and clear the next being so dark and whirly Now understanding why mother nature isn't fluky There are reasons for everything I believe that now very firmly

12

It's beautiful, Your days are beautiful, Beautiful as you are! Beautiful than a Juliet rose 🌹, A rose flower of love, Your beauties are like Abba and Meemi. Your ages, are 1 + 1 Twice in halves Twins, are twice I wish you fluky birthday, and to pass your obstacles with flying colors. May your breath blow the candle The royal twins Happy Birthday Maimunat and Hajarat Twins daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Umar Faroukh Abdullahi (DANLASAN)

0

Jul 31, 2020

Jul 31, 2020 at 10:40 AM UTC

Safana

Twins, are twice

It's beautiful, Your days are beautiful, Beautiful as you are! Beautiful than a Juliet rose 🌹, A rose flower of love, Your beauties are like Abba and Meemi. Your ages, are 1 + 1 Twice in halves Twins, are twice I wish you fluky birthday, and to pass your obstacles with flying colors. May your breath blow the candle The royal twins Happy Birthday Maimunat and Hajarat Twins daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Umar Faroukh Abdullahi (DANLASAN)

23

Into my fathers’ arms safe from harm In a place far away no moonshine in his hand Running along a beach somewhere on white-golden sand No shouting, swearing or blowing to the head At a table where I will be fed No more hunger no more pain all is well Sitting at a warm fire stories we tell Well away from my living hell Ironed clothes and shoes on my feet Into a bed with fluky white sheets uncluttered and cosy not afraid to sleep Nobody kicked out to walk the streets Dry bed in the morning what a delight Going to school with a smile on my face Parents watching you in sports and plays Shouting encouragement making you proud Not to be outside the fashionable crowd but things are not what they always seem What do you expect in a strange land hounded with reality? This is not reality; it is only a childhood dream

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Oct 23, 2014

Oct 23, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC

Scarlette

Puerile's Phantasm

Into my fathers’ arms safe from harm In a place far away no moonshine in his hand Running along a beach somewhere on white-golden sand No shouting, swearing or blowing to the head At a table where I will be fed No more hunger no more pain all is well Sitting at a warm fire stories we tell Well away from my living hell Ironed clothes and shoes on my feet Into a bed with fluky white sheets uncluttered and cosy not afraid to sleep Nobody kicked out to walk the streets Dry bed in the morning what a delight Going to school with a smile on my face Parents watching you in sports and plays Shouting encouragement making you proud Not to be outside the fashionable crowd but things are not what they always seem What do you expect in a strange land hounded with reality? This is not reality; it is only a childhood dream

38

most instances when i initially seat myself priming creative literary juices to flow, an unspecified number hours elapse before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh revelation transpires witnessing, this scruffy, prickly, and madly scratching itchy hairs dotting chinny chin chin of this hobo hook huns hitters hymns elf tubby a generic home er run (hitting) mill (on the floss sing false teeth) common everyday fluky, nippy, nap noopy Joe, whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea (Egg heads, merely scrambled random thought fragments at that stage) scrunching brow activates laser focus, a scattershot burst of tangential thread populate formerly barren tabula rasa, sans, Lenovo external screen once again defying (tomb me akin to some eternal mystery), trucked since time immemorial inexplicable, that sudden ignition asper cerebral automatic catalytic converter kickstarter (hmm...perhaps cogs and gears housed within medulla oblongata) foster fecund fertilization, an inexplicable phenomena, I dune hot know explanation, but upon advent whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life when there appears just the merest hint of fledgling wispy notions strive similar to ***** cells fervently whipsawing vis a vis, via flagellation motility misfits and false starts before this crotchety scribe mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea congeals, expresses, and forms grandiose manifest destiny mentioned above i.e. ** Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis seems like a versatile self determining tour de force whereat fingers of the lefthand move of their own volition spilling forth poe whet tree once expended leaves (of grass) finds me Walt sing whit man nigh hick cull tickled pink with a soft after glow.

0

Mar 7, 2018

Mar 7, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

From Blank Screen To Logorrhea

most instances when i initially seat myself priming creative literary juices to flow, an unspecified number hours elapse before that eureka i.e. Jackie Oh revelation transpires witnessing, this scruffy, prickly, and madly scratching itchy hairs dotting chinny chin chin of this hobo hook huns hitters hymns elf tubby a generic home er run (hitting) mill (on the floss sing false teeth) common everyday fluky, nippy, nap noopy Joe, whence upon gestation ova hen chic idea (Egg heads, merely scrambled random thought fragments at that stage) scrunching brow activates laser focus, a scattershot burst of tangential thread populate formerly barren tabula rasa, sans, Lenovo external screen once again defying (tomb me akin to some eternal mystery), trucked since time immemorial inexplicable, that sudden ignition asper cerebral automatic catalytic converter kickstarter (hmm...perhaps cogs and gears housed within medulla oblongata) foster fecund fertilization, an inexplicable phenomena, I dune hot know explanation, but upon advent whence, wispy vague undefinable inchoate coalesce analogous to genesis of animal new life when there appears just the merest hint of fledgling wispy notions strive similar to ***** cells fervently whipsawing vis a vis, via flagellation motility misfits and false starts before this crotchety scribe mollycoddles crux of embryonic idea congeals, expresses, and forms grandiose manifest destiny mentioned above i.e. ** Lee Judas Priest remaining catharsis seems like a versatile self determining tour de force whereat fingers of the lefthand move of their own volition spilling forth poe whet tree once expended leaves (of grass) finds me Walt sing whit man nigh hick cull tickled pink with a soft after glow.

52

I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat. The one which smells of cinnamon, with the shiny metal knobs. I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat. I was the size of Thumbelina, barely grander than a toad. I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat in a pitch black woolen warmth. (All my raincoats should take note.) I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat where I fiddled with the coins and the keys and washed out bank notes. I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat and the day was such a thrill with its fluky lazy stroll. I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat where I felt small again. Immaturity - my poison's antidote.

0

Nov 26, 2019

Nov 26, 2019 at 4:56 PM UTC

MalloryTud

The pocket of my duffle coat

I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat. The one which smells of cinnamon, with the shiny metal knobs. I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat. I was the size of Thumbelina, barely grander than a toad. I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat in a pitch black woolen warmth. (All my raincoats should take note.) I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat where I fiddled with the coins and the keys and washed out bank notes. I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat and the day was such a thrill with its fluky lazy stroll. I woke up in the pocket of my dark blue duffle coat where I felt small again. Immaturity - my poison's antidote.

24