Best Fluke Poems
It's the only land that you can
get all seasons in one day
you name it UK displays it
all the colors from blue to grey
It certainly has loads of great variety
from sun clouds snow and pouring rain
to hail winds storms and freezing ice
has such a staining effect on the brain
The north is such damp climate
having wet damp miserable outlook
fills one with negative thoughts
when sun shines it seems a fluke
In the south where it's bright
as it's mostly warmer with sunshine
for it's labelled the English riviera
where it matures like a good wine
The east has real mighty gale force
as America's conditions effect the west
when they come across from States
on the atlantic waves full crest
So that's Britain's wayward weather
like it or lump it that's your lot
remember you guys across the pond
don't send everything that you've got!
(Just some thoughts on the UK weather and how it varies so much, also a little quip at you guys in US where we seem to get the effects of your east coast storms but rarely your sunshine. but no matter we love you all!!!)
Turkey farmer Jones was seen as a kook.
Many declared his whole life was a fluke.
But they were not aware
Jones had learned a skill rare,
he was fluent in speaking gobbledygook.
Through charcoal ash covered sands of time in history September 11th, 2001 we'll never forget
Brave men and women quick to help without thoughts of regret
So many watched on t.v, faces streaming with tears
Some prayed like crazy for loved ones hoping no one would confirm their greatest fears
First tower struck, struck fear in our hearts
Still, communities held together while some worlds felt they were falling apart
Thought to be an accidental fluke was the first 767 that crashed
Approximately 18 minutes later as her twin tower was struck it was clear an attack was being lashed
Foundation of buildings built strong to last
Still couldn't withstand heat from the jet fuel among impact of the blast
Brave men and women worked hard to evacuate and do what they could
Meanwhile, there was trouble at the Pentagon in their neck of the woods
News came that among the World Trade Center the Pentagon was also hit
People collapsed as standing structures did to silently prey where they sit
Yet, another plane crashed in a Pennsylvania field
Passengers aboard didn't make it but died as heroes with their battle with terrorists they didn't stop or yield
Where were you on this devastating day?
Where ever it was I hope you were among others who did pray
The world is still turning
For loved ones lost, some are still yearning
Permanent smokey images sketched of falling debri and structures burning
Lingering thoughts have hearts and stomachs still churning
Nothing could have prepared anyone for the destruction and heartache to come with those four flights
Light a candle for lost innocent brave souls, heroes, and survivors on this night
The sky, heavy-laden with curdled black clouds,
Burst wide open, and all night long it rained.
It pitter-pattered on the panes,
And rattling on the slanting roofs.
It churned the dry soil to a pulp,
Overflowed the dusty gutters.
It drove the people from the streets,
And moaned amongst the houses.
'Twas but a fluke, a summer storm
Lightning snaked the sky
Thunder rumbled and crashed
Instilling fear and panic in passers-by.
Soon it abated to a drizzle,
A thin mist shrouded the square.
And as the town clock struck the sixth hour
Ghostly figures ventured forth again.
Yet during all this precipitation
He trudged alone along the streets,
Rain dribbled through his matted hair
And wetted stubble on his dirty face.
It cleansed his external demeanour
From the grime of past lazy days,
It could do nothing to eradicate
The heaviness that filled his inner self.
The air was warm, and strange enough
He felt little discomfort from the rain.
The vault of heavy clouds ascended,
The breeze was gentle and fresh.
He went back to his favourite place,
The bakery shop has not yet opened,
From its cellars hot dry air
Surged up, surrounded by his whole being,
Warming him from the wet chill.
He soaked up the fragrant smell
And yearning for freshly baked bread,
A luxury he could ill afford.
And so he continued on his journey,
Alone, atoning for his past.
Hungry and desolate and chained,
Externally cleansed by the drenching rain
Until the day he'd die.
I. Noise in an empty hallway:
My old leather shoes protest as I hurry down the linoleum tiles
Like I'm wearing a little piece of history older than I am.
II. Headlights on a dark road:
Speeding down narrow country roads
windows rolled down and Autumn wind rushing through the car
Ripping my hair from its tie
My arm stretching out the window, numb in the night air.
III. Ephemeral beauty:
For a moment, life is endless and incredibly brief
Stretching before me like a dusty trail at sunset
Disappearing into the trees.
IV. Origin of life:
There is this vague, unnamable incomprehension in my chest
Like euphemisms, that is the easy way out
This is the hard way: I am alive, alive, alive
When one cell became thirty trillion, I gained consciousness.
V. I am not the sum of my parts:
I don't have the faith to believe
That all my thirty trillion cells are a fluke of nature
VI. Evidence:
I am the proof of divinity's existence
A signpost shouting "I am alive" thirty trillion times with all the power of my lungs
Designed for miracles
VII. Rene Descartes:
It is not
I think; therefore, I am
It is
I think; therefore, He is.
It’s been a year since I joined the soup,
Meanwhile we’ve gone round the sun in a loop,
Sadly some fell off, didn’t quite make it all the way,
I’m clinging on, hoping to find one better day.
But the loop continues, has to persist,
Like our thoughts, it’s what makes us exist,
So off we go on our journey, around once more,
Headlong to tomorrow, unsure what’s in store.
Creating poems of all shapes and every kind,
Unaware what verse will next spring to mind,
Oh boy then it comes, at once all together,
A feeling of achievement moments of pleasure.
Sometimes I wonder are they already written,
Preprogrammed into life, an untapped composition,
Latently buried, in the back of our mind,
Placed there by creation, or maybe design.
So like it or not, as we loop around the soup
One thing I’m sure of, this life is no fluke,
And that’s us in a nutshell, as we spiral through space,
Today seems the same, but earths in a different place.
PODIUM PLACING PROMISE(4) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand 20 lines
03/01/2020
In all of life's challenges aplenty
there is one source of conviction
a deep-filled knowledge of God
to hold you together is no fiction
Be aware of satan's devilish lies
stand firm with God's holy book
holding fast to your Lord alone
know His peace and presence is no fluke
Never listen to the worldly voices
that try to tempt you away
you know that is a false way
for believing in Jesus is your stay
T.L.I.M.P. is your sure release
keep it in mind never to forget
the Lord is my portion always
truthfully always for you is met
This Lord is faithful and true
showing His great love on Calvary's tree
taking all our sins upon Himself
being our substitute setting us free
My mind went on a trip one sunny day
In that trance I was president
Papa was proud of me
Mama felt pleased too
“You are a natural leader” said my neighbor
“I knew you would make it, it’s not a fluke” commented another
Frenemies surfaced in haste
My face was on TV
I was a president on the move
Ain’t nobody stood in my way
I travelled far and wide
My term was short
I had to make an impact
Etch my name in the hall of fame
History had to have my name
Time is a march and the powerful are drummers
He who drums loudest leads the song
His life is lavish and his abode magnificent
Look who is drumming
Would they be drumming if I weren’t president?
Are they friends or foes?
Only time will tell
Then there was a reality check.
The chimera was over
I am just who I am
The same old nobody
A Tribute to the Great Master's Composition -Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to the Moon's Sublimity?
Thou art more tender and more sensitive:
Serene breeze does twirl the treacly toes of November,
And winter's spell hath all too soft a note;
Sometime too cold the eye of the needle shines,
And often is his silver resplendence shown,
And every dare from dare begins,
By fluke or legerdemain nature's epiphanies undeliverable;
But thy nocturnal winter shall not give shade
Nor lose affection of that rare thou become'st;
Nor shall health drab thou asunder'st in his tread,
When in pensive wines to years thou grow'st;
So long as we can discern or we can redolence be
So long is preserved this is and this will make thee.
Avijeet Musafir Das
Tough to say But I think the Duke His years in the spotlight Were definitely no fluke He fought the wars Won the west This giant was always At his best At the very end The Shootist And True Grit Will forever stand the test Happy trails John Wayne You were Without a doubt Heads above the rest
The Bearded Lady is on the stage
A genetic fluke, how do you gauge
How did she grow her hairy face
man, beast or simply a hairy race
If her face is real, is her body too
beneath clothes and a face like you
Getting hair to grow by what means
Start a new life and leave this scene
Is there a drug to make hair be seen
pills or injections, I could be a Jean
Sadly some people change their life
Thinking it will end all pain and strife
In view a bearded women, all can see
Inside your as hidden as a man can be
What kind of man hides beneath a skirt
I'll join the circus, as clown named Bert
"Circus" contest 5-10-2012
THE BRIDAL SOJOURN
Like an American spy I have always been looking around
Wandering around the downtown
Not because of my lost goat
Nor because of my missing boat
But obviously I am the to-be groom
Who has been left in the gloom
I have built a house with big rooms
This has been a lone boon
That I got from my age-long boom
As a to-be groom
I have searched all the pages in the books
And checked all cranny and nooks
In search of the damsel
That would make my relatives dance well
Though I have not been assured
That her love would get me insured
Against adultery and lusty effrontery
But I believe in fluke
That is why I won’t give up to a crook
And rather challenge her with a hook
I saw this template on Google
And this really makes me giggle
Father didn’t stop to niggle
But I let them realize I’m nimble
To find my ravishing bride
That has a picturesque dimple
That is devoid of pimple
And make me forget that I was single
Even if I can still mingle
With ladies that are ostensible
I know her thinking is plausible
And her reasons are tangible
To let them realize we are compatible
Because our union is defensible
JIMOH HAMMED OLAOLUWA
Land of the free,
and home of the brave.
A great title for a nation,
but what of a slave?
Not just those of the past,
those too, but no,
people enslaved now
to the prejudice we all know.
This is no land of the free
and no home of the brave
when this flag we fly free
shows the hate that we crave.
A hatred so painful,
so hurtful and cruel,
that no God and no Devil
could compare to that duel.
Yes all lives matter,
that fact is true,
but why talk about all
when those dying are in the few?
We cannot say:
"all lives matter"
when a sub-sect of that
causes your world to shatter.
Black lives matter
no more than you,
but when it comes to the law
if you're white, then what's new?
We've had rights all this time,
no systemic oppression.
Now is not the time
to start this suppression.
Black lives matter
and so do you,
so why when they call out
can they not depend on you?
A fluke,
you're done,
no more lying when it matters.
Your time is up,
we've all heard your chatter.
I'd like to be honest,
just tell me your truth,
if all lives matter,
then tell me, do you?
Does he? Does she? Does anyone to you?
Or is this all just you
denying?
This is no land of the free.
It is home of the fake.
And never will it be free
until you see your mistake.
Oh, and what a wonderful day that will be.
They have amazing smiles
Two islanders from neighboring isles
Found love and got married
Enjoyed the blessing it carried
Leading life with no demise
Happiness enveloping them, a disguise
Look through the photo albums
Memories too valuable for sums
Yet under all the joy and perfection
Comes the ultimate interjection
You realize there is so much pain
The amount, quite insane
Smiles were all fake
Everything was about to break
The unity and love was a fluke
It was all hit by a nuke
Tracing all the signs of sorrow
That killed the future of tomorrow
Realizing that there were broken hearts
That were shot by poisonous darts
And all you can do is stare
Because reality you can't bear
There is nothing you can do
When it has nothing to do with you
Watch as everything crumbles
To pieces, as the noise mumbles
Seeing that image topple
Is it still that of a perfect couple?
I've been collecting ear wax
Since the belly button lint dust fire went bad
I lost all my dignity in that fiasco
So ear wax is all that I have left
Believe you me, it's not easy
Coming up with another scheme
After burning the whole town down to the ground
To get a single soul to look or even listen to me
But that fateful day that I dug deep
And pulled a replica of the Eiffel Tower out of my ear
I knew that fame and fortune lay before me
My time had arrived, my time was here
Who should I call first over my artful discovery
The Post? The Enquirer? The Times?
No I would call The Museum Of Modern Art in NYC
For the Art World would soon be mine
I knew I had to ratchet it up a notch
One piece of ear wax art might be a fluke
So I got out my brush...the Q-tip
And removed a portrait of John Wayne AKA The Duke
Since I live in a hippie commune in the woods
Little furry creatures would always stop by
To gaze upon the artful process
Squirrels can be the best of critics...no lie!
Which gave me the idea with all the left over ear wax
I sculptured a mini-amusement park with mini-arcades
And charged the woodland creatures nuts and berries
Which helped feed the hippies with whom I stay
It wasn't long after that I received the letter
Stating that art had a need for me
I've become known as The Andy Warhol of The Art World
With abstract ear wax being my specialty
Now I go to all the major "Who Does"
Where everybody knows my name
As I create masterpieces right before their eyes
Just don't hold it to close to the flame
Who would have ever thought that ear wax
Would be the perfect medium
To jet propel this Simpleton
To Art World stardom and beyond