Best Fully Fledged Poems
When I first flew the nest, my spirits were low;
how my world has changed from one year ago.
Now fully fledged, I spread open my wings!
My voice, once a whisper, now gently sings.
You can feel my music through verse all day long,
for my chosen words make a joyful song!
With confidence up, I fly round your group—
my perch for relaxing is ‘poet tree’ soup!
Chosen Bird is a Meadowlark - cheerful, inner journey
05~12~15
Contest: Picture yourself as a bird
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
101 Poems in a row #8 sponsored by PD :-)
Dozy Dick and his Magic Stick it comes to life at night
Takes him to a world of joy and pure delight
Transports him to a place he really wants to be
Of inner dreams and pleasure and every fantasy
With his magic stick Dick can travel far and wide
He can be all alone or have a beauty by his side
Dozy dipped his rigid stick and cast his magic spell
Where he dipped his magic stick he swears he'll never tell
Though the local witches coven each night with longing yearn
The sweet boys in fairyland also pray for his return
Dozy practices with his magic stick when he is in the bath
The most fun he's ever had yet he never laughs
He must by now be a fully-fledged master of his trade
Though as a result of all that practice, he wears a hearing aid.
Dozy waded into the sea when the water was quite choppy
His usually rampant magic stick became flexible and floppy
A myriad of baby mermaids now swim in the bay
Dozy and his magic stick must now undergo a test for DNA.
8th July 2014
Written by Jan Allison & Darren Watson
Panicked tiny footprints, zigzag, sharp;
Each an arrow hungry for direction.
Across them, newer, the fully-fledged
Outlines of boots, strong, deep.
Ahead, the bootprints side by side,
Suddenly, decisively: imagine the arms.
Further on still, the arrows stagger,
Stop, and fading blood reds the way.
This is the tale the snow tells,
Along the ugly, thorn-jagged hedge.
Its record is brief, the warmer winds
Of oblivion will sweep in, soon, too soon.
I wish for an end to come
A welcome I spoke; untrue now
The progress of time, showing me pain
Saved me than, to severe me again
An arid mind, pleading for lines to flow.
Upon entrance, my improbable dream tempted reality
My artistry had granted me a title, of weight
Dragging me down, before a rise begun
A love that fluctuated, had become so dear
Belonging had I found, as a poet in the world.
Almost quit had I, before my words were fully fledged
At the mention of poetry, I had deigned to deny the ink
A fear of being deemed feminine, had taunted my being
My stanzas had become a guilty pleasure, I could not resist
Years transpiring, before guilt became pride.
My heart had been afforded a source of release
I had been gifted a talent, to be honed
Appreciation was not a given, but had grown
A time of need, was announced with hope
Depression I could not part with, but a reprieve I had found.
Weeks into the year, and my footing I had lost
The joyous monotony of writing had found absence
My life had worn to a thread - a noose was seen an escape
Will myself I could not, without another try
A last attempt, reviving an unconscious passion.
Dear Son,
As you read this letter
I believe you are fully fledged
And perhaps you have already selected
A straight soulmate among your flying flock
I know my absence's had your heart brimming with rage
May your rage wither as you turn over the pages
That have witnessed your life stages
And tirelessly waited for you for ages
Here is my invaluable advice:
To be a champion
You must become a chameleon
To adapt to this inconsistent world
To be a loser
You must turn a blind eye
To your own weaknesses that make you so
To achieve some goals
You must turn into a rifle
To reach the ever-shifting distant targets
To win a marathon
You have to take baby steps
Then overwhelm your limitations
To be successful
You must learn from FAILURE
What success will never teach you
To be an influential leader
You must be a loyal follower
And become the change you wish to see
To be a good father
A son has to find in his father
The true meaning of love and affection
To be genius
Is to perpetually practice with strong will
To thoroughly master a skill
To be educated
You need no university credentials
But knowledge to be put to use
To be rich,
The Richest Man in Babylon said,
"Learn to live upon less than your earnings"
To be wealthy,
The Stoics say,
"You must learn to limit your desires!"
To take control of your time
Brush off the 24-hour illusion
Make use of the guaranteed 'NOW'
To better understand life
Never seek its sacred meaning farther
Than in the preordained death
To master this letter
I beg you, my dear son,
Mutate into a parrot and thank me later
Your loving Dad,
Clement Ahmed Chipande
A shiny morning bathed in golden-gluey rays.
Somedays are different from everyday.
The royal couture's army, Of sun's dear palace.
Served down the feast of honour.
As I opened the mouth to greet.
The berries of my mommy's continental & savoury kitchen.
Satisfying the appetite of my elated much hungry soul.
Alongwith serenity, To my disturbed mood.
I took the boat, Destined for the shore of endless breathing.
& found myself lost, Into the lake of solitude.
The melody of contentment.
Drenched into my ear, when the swans passed by.
A merry moment to cherish & laugh.
Even the hours of daylight, Felt like a blink of seconds to my ardent eyes & carefree heart.
Roaming like a reckless, dancing paper doll.
A royal chic, Fully fledged with tantrums, that night. Cause,
I was wild.
I was free.
I was home
- Mauli Verma
Night had been short, I still was highly tired
for my bones had been badly maltreated
during exhausting marches. I admired
comrade John who recently had cheated
the Reaper in the north at Stamford Bridge.
I left the troops and headed for a beech
where I relieved myself. The coming fight
transformed it into a cesspool, this ridge.
King Harold on his horse then gave a speech,
out of earshot for the fyrd, out of sight.
When the enemy advanced I started
to shake like a leaf and had to vomit.
In the front the first soldiers departed
this world. "Count details and do not omit
your prayer", John advised. "Mother Mary,
please protect me and my comrade John!" In
a body then I counted three arrows.
Our brave Saxon shield wall withstood ... perry
for all! An early promise we would win
the day? Chirping, I counted eight sparrows.
After long turmoil of battle a rest,
I counted wounded and I counted dead.
Among the killed were many of the best
and fully-fledged soldiers. I ate some bread,
then Norman buglers sounded the next charge.
Will men ever stop slaying each other?
King Harold was killed, either by four knights
or by an arrow in his eye. Our sarge,
mortally wounded, cried for his mother,
while John and me betook ourselves to flights.
May 22, 2022
Form O- Ode- New poems Poetry Contest
sponsored by Constance La France
theme: memory
three 10 line stanzas, 10 syllables per line
rhyming pattern: ababcdecde fgfghijhij klklmnomno
I am aware that I only considered the formal requirements, strictly speaking this is not an ode. Please let me know if I should better take part in a different contest - thank you!
Early morning vapors emulate a lady's veil,
diaphanous, a softly shifting secrecy;
as constant as the tide and deathly pale,
feathering the lake in fragile mystery.
Minstrels scarce can sing with proper import
of the dawning of the day in violet haze;
e'er we hear the skylark, mother nature's joyous consort,
and sunshine bathes the fields with warming rays.
First light is fully fledged, the veil is lifting,
the surface shines, a vision sparkling bright;
day fades to dark, again the morn comes drifting,
and mist sprawls like a specter from the night
How am I doing
Well thanking you very much indeed
For being kind enough to ask
Because I am doing just fine
In fact I can't tell a lie i am actually
way far better than that bordering on
great
Because my business is downright
booming at the minute
To the point I have had to stop taking
bookings as I am now fully booked
up till Christmas
And the reason why you may well ask
well is due and down to this
You see what I do for and earn my living
as my proffesion and business is
I am a fully qualified certified card carrying
Clown
So much some of the very best in the
business which you may or may
not have heard of
Like for example Sideshow Bob and
Ronald McDonald who actually based
a lot of their own act and performance
on material they stole off me
But they have all but since gone to
ground so now I am all but the last
standing remaining Clown
Due to the dwindling amount of work
after COVID -19 rules etiquette and
social distancing ensued
The best excuse money can buy
when all else other's used have failed
thus far since the classic good old days
of my dog eat my homework
And left them without means to
earn a steady income to support
them in order to pay their bill's and
lifestyle they had become accustomed to
But hey at least this story has a happy
ending and they didn't want and go
without for very long
Because blessed with the particular
skillet they garnered and possessed
They simply just went joined signed
up and pledged allegiance to and
became a fully fledged member of the
Clown Union
Because as everyone full well knows
Clown's are the star's and reason why
people choose go to the Circus in the
1st place
And politics if nothing else is in all
but name the greatest Circus on earth
Only difference being although littered
with clown's these one's have or feel
no need
To slap and adorn their face in
makeup or wear a funny customized
suit
Because they are and their act and
material on which it is based upon is
in itself funnier than hell
But whereas Circus clown's wear big
shoe's for comical affect
These here clown's wear big boot's
in order so they can fill them up to
brim of their stetson hat
After the pockets of their shinny designer
bespoken suits look like they have
$100 handkerchief hanging out all
of them
Just nodded yes, when my ego had said no
Lost all consuming forces, simply let go
Met you halfway, instead of skirting the square
Perhaps sat down, when you brought over a chair
Found quantum entanglement, not just sheeple
Its herding force, far away from the steeple
Magnetism in both poles, pulling from all sides
Positive and negative, filling vast voids
Overcome the burden, in self surrender
Let empathy conjoin, and love engender
Gone outside my comfort zone, where truth persists
Quelled year old hate, encouraged alternate bliss
Lived together, stop digging at empty space
Found peace together, ending human disgrace
Believed together, without losing mere face
Came together, with all consuming embrace
But then again, (I wish I had) lots of things
Not just a pair of arms, but fully fledged wings
I’d fly ‘cross Nepal, meet and kill the Buddha
His words incanting, Shoulda Coulda Woulda!
I've ne'er beheld such a magnificent tree.
Only you were a ration of my life spree.
Your shadow splatters my scorching flesh.
Striving to restrain agony out of my thresh.
A tree that can bear both heat and downpour.
Hence, you ditched my futile and deceitful spore.
You typically offer me advice right away.
When I'm lost, you indicate for me the way.
Your plush pale coat screens me from worry.
Infers that it is plausible to opine fearlessly.
A capable tree of seeing remorse.
Beings pull vitality in the water source.
I gathered this fruit from your anile stem.
My key insight became crucial mayhem.
Only a subtle tree receives my praise.
As yet, I was sustained by a reckless craze.
I've not imagined a fully-fledged tree before.
Crafted with zeal and artistry at its exposed core.
Written: October 18, 2021
Early morning vapors emulate a lady's veil,
diaphanous, a softly shifting secrecy;
inconstant as the tide and deathly pale,
feathering the lake in fragile mystery.
Minstrels scarce can sing with proper import
of the dawning of the day in violet haze;
e'er we hear the skylark, mother nature's joyous consort,
and sunshine bathes the fields with warming rays.
First light is fully-fledged, the veil is lifting,
the surface shines, a vision sparkling bright;
'til day fades to dark, then the morn comes drifting,
and mist sprawls like a spectre from the night.
pity the alien who loses its way
& has to stop here for a bit
(to do whatever aliens do, if they
lose their way)---
now,
go one step further &
imagine that like a child
who curiously picks up a fly &
proceeds to tear the wings off of its
struggling little body,
making that first itty-bitty step
towards becoming a fully fledged
psychopath,
the alien in question,
bored & waiting for a ride
(or whatever the **** aliens do),
now looks down on this cesspool of
greedy, violent & self-destructive
humans &
picks one, to do just the same,
slowly tearing off its arms,
its legs, its head, etc.---
now,
go one step even further &
imagine that the human(s) chosen,
“are not just any humans,”
but powerful, button-pushing,
wo/men, who have made no attempt
to disguise the fact that they are
“hell bent” on our annihilation as a
species in total…
Fresh flowers in the fields are in flamboyant flair
Flailing festivity for my Divine Fulcrum and Fortress
Forever-loving Father, you’re my Faithful Friend
Fountain of Fullness: Christ Jesus- famous of all names.
Forever-loving Father, on my knees I fall
For, you fortified my faith and fixed my fractured soul
Forbade me from filthy falls, forgave my faults
Freed me from frailty and flagrant flaky fool.
Fountain of Fullness, flank by me for my fulfilling fleet
Frequently fail me on frazzles, for a fully-fledged feet.
Sept 6, 2020
he did not make me whatever it is that i am
he does not control what i do with my hands
he did not define what thoughts run through my mind
he does not dictate what words i will find
he did not allow me to break free of this grasp
he does not stop me from completing this task
he did not speak when i told him my aims
he does not participate in my intricate games
he did not stop me from becoming fully fledged
he simply pushed me when i got too close to the edge