Fickle Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

The Fickle Tickler

There once was a man rather fickle 
Who loved nothing more than a tickle 
But tickle his knee
And he’d do a big wee
That smelled like the juice of a pickle.

Some take life too seriously 
Too frightened to laugh at a wee
They’d rather look sour
And make others cower 
But that’s just not really me.

Premium Member Fickle

Fickle in tandem  
her flag system needs respect,
I live by the beach.

Premium Member Fickle Finger

I conclude I was conceived hard-and-fast, 
Misfortunes rain on my parade, downcast - 
Bad Luck to date 
Fickles my Fate, 
I now bet on Hope, that they say, dies last!


Premium Member Nature's Fickle

spring

nearer

each warm day

beauty will spring

with colors galore

unless nature

sends sudden

surprise

freeze

A Fickle Audeince

A Fickled Bunch
-------------------------

They wish to deceive me
to say I'm gullible
might i believe there stories
and tell the tale
to this frustration
what must i do
they never stop
they reprise the plot
they make it hot
all to speak there
frivolous fools
------------------------------
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My fickled audeince
might such interest you
that we should gather together
non to be exclude
whine the clock's in eagerness
the morning of the show
my ficckle audeince
neverr let me go

oh I complain
too many empty seats
the night moved to slow
my voice didn't
do it's thing
the music was lousy
the words didn't fit the town
my fickle audeince
I love when you're around
are we selling out
do we need to add another show
come on don't leave me
lingering on
please let me know
I have a fickle audeince
what can we say
----------------------------------
sold out
need to add a show!

Premium Member Oh, October, you fickle feline

Oh, October, you fickle feline
A silenced garden holds its breath
Rose petals tremble in your chill
Maples bedecked in hoar frost white

Soft clouds rise from long idle chimneys
Cold worms wriggle ‘neath softening leaves
Squirrels draw maps of hidden treasure
Sparrows skate on the ice crusted bird bath

Oh, October, you stealthy creeper
Your shadows book flights for the geese
Scar-faced pumpkins snarl as you pass
Knowing your demons will soon arrive

Yet still you quietly purr
A harvest scented song upon cool winds


Premium Member -Fickle Pickle

This tale is about Pickle Onion Percy

Who is besotted with a little cocktail pickle called Tracy Tickle

Many hours are spent together chatting and laughing 

On a warm soft fresh slice of rye pumpernickel 


Now, Percy is  known for being somewhat fickle

He is poor and only possesses a nickel

He is the target of Asparagus and Gherkin… who take the mickle

Who harass and bully him …. As tears down Percys face do trickle


Truth is , Gherkin and  Asparagus also fancy the sweet Tracy Tickle

Though she thinks they are bullies and so very mean

Both tall ,weird and lumpy looking 

And horrible shades  of green

 
Tracy Tickle only has eyes for Percy Pickle

Asparagus and Gherkin actually make her feel quite sickle

Percy is sweet, funny and kind

Tracy desperately wants to become Mrs Pickle!

Trickle Fickle

Trickle, river fickle.
Step lively by the side.
Fate, thy strictures tickle!
Hell, Heaven, woe betide!

Wind atop the high cliff wall?
Funeral, thy pall.
Cherry blossoms, heft to haul.
End Times, give a call...

Thunderbolt, hover above.
Levee, fail to hold.
Fit, misfortune! O my glove!
Coals within, glow gold...

Will of human beings?
It must not have the clout.
Everybody, pack thy things!
Doubt, begin thy bout!

Ruin, cover all our world.
Dim hope, flee from here.
Dark fire, lava, how you hurled!
Grind them, O my gear...

Ravine out back, what to pack?
Stuff it in a crack!
Failure, will you? Fade to black?
Turn about and tack!

Sullen honeysuckle?
How better to make wine?
Bridge, beneath their feet buckle!
Doom, undying dine...

Premium Member Fickle

You are a human being so vile. 
How could I, with you, myself, defile?
Yet, you are an angel. heaven sent, 
my time away from you, misspent.
Where is your needle on my dial?

It jumps like New England weather
or a breeze blowing a feather,
Up and down or in the middle,
I cannot answer this riddle:
Do you and I belong together?

Premium Member The Earth is an Ice Fickle

Earth is an Ice Fickle
Ice Fickle Earth                  by JT Curtis    Feb 26th 2015



I don't know how long this
world is gonna last
As I read the daily news 
things are moving fast
They say the Earth is warming up
And melting all its ice
Now listen very carefully
'Cause this is my advice

Drink beer while it's cold
And whiskey on the rocks
Have a slushy with each meal
Eat ice cream by the box
Take a cold shower when,
you would rather take it hot
'Cause no one really knows
How much time the World has got

Put a snowball in the freezer
So you can show it to your friends           
When Winter now is Summer
And Summer never ends
Sell your skies before they're useless
And the big wide shovel too
'Cause things are getting hotter
This is what I'm telling you

Well, we know things keep on changing
And so shall my advice
'Cause  they say when things heat up
The Earth turns back to ice
But chances are we won't be here
When it finally gets to that
But maybe you should keep around
At least one coat and hat.

Premium Member a fickle flip scares the butterfly

Oh the power of the narcissistic 
would be king enthroned,
crowned not with wisdom, 
but with arrogance, 
delusion and nihilism.

The crowd waits on his every word
which has the power 
to flip the world order
from boom to flop
from soar to bust
to tip the seesaw
to flip-flop panic.

Why should one person,
posting his own thoughts social
in the middle of the night
have the power to scare
the butterfly, making it
flap its wings, 
triggering the accord 
to tip off the cliff
Into chaos.

Premium Member Fickle March

The month of March has many moods;
its days are varied as she broods
which day is warm, which one is cold.
Tween Winter-Spring, she can be bold.

Some days she brings snow full and deep,
and others, like she's fast asleep;
with the warm sun, we are consoled.
Tween Winter-Spring, she can be bold.

She's stuck between two season's clime,
and so to each, she gives her time;
One fading soon, one to unfold.
Tween Winter-Spring, she can be bold.

So we are patient with her whims-
while Winter's ways she slowly trims,
till brand new April joins the fold.
 Tween Winter-Spring, she can be bold.

Premium Member Fickle Instant Osmosis


Ephemeral eternity — covers osmosis pinnacles
In a loving natural roots, nostalgia never fails
Welcomed. . .we wander — and cry
It slinks slackly not dwelling in the gloom. . .

Gestalt therapy in sepia tones offers an odd view,
Instant mete hourglass, scythe, magic mind wing
Proper, shining ruined glass before filters and pixels,

Cracks reveal truth, and hazy images evoke memory;   
Digitally altered shots provide unadorned faces, 

Silver stones — crumble under soggy streams
Love consists of endless childhood dreams,

We whirl, win, wildly in a whirlwind
Instants creep slowly — yielding assets to discard
Time lingers while instances ripple vastly.
 
It unfolds and emits a sticky—spirited symphony 
Transitional winds blew as we breathed and linked
Instants ticked slowly but rose quickly.

Glide into golden heat of the calm night hour
Ashes rise on a summer's sigh in the breezy sky
Soaring over the willows, peacefully fly.

Life’s Fickle Dance

Oh life, what dost thou hide for me next,
What tricks await, what trials dost thou test?
One day brings joy, the next doth sorrow reign,
Yet here I stand, through sunshine and through rain.

Thou twist and turn, thou never dost stand still,
Thy hand doth push me up another hill.
Thou mak’st me laugh, then mak’st me weep and sigh,
Yet still I soar, to reach the boundless sky.

Thou givest dreams, so sweet, they charm the heart,
Yet with thy hand, thou tearest them apart.
Thou givest love, then tak’st it swift away,
Yet I rise up, and greet another day.

Thou mak’st me run, thou mak’st me stumble, fall,
Yet from the ground, I rise again so tall.
Through tempests wild and trials thou dost send,
I stand unbow’d, and fight thee to the end.

Premium Member My Fickle Muse

I want not someone else’s words
              Though beautiful they are to me
Inspired, yes. I want to feel
         But let my words flow sure and free

My fickle muse awaits his call
               Yet bellows simply do not wake
And patience is now wearing thin
      This rest needs no more time to take

Is confidence the culprit here
                         Has insecurity prevailed  
I’m wishing, hoping fervently
                   My pen to swiftly be regaled

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Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

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