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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Fluke

Initiate
  • Posts

    11
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  • Days Won

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Fluke last won the day on September 9 2017

Fluke had the most liked content!

About Fluke

  • Birthday 12/06/1985

Previous Fields

  • Characters
    Hoax
  • Gender
    Female
  • Race/Gender Details
    Hyena of non specific pedigree or gender.
  • Feedback Level
    Critical is encouraged.
  • Usual Preferred Feedback (Stories)
    Minor feedback
  • Usual Preferred Feedback (Poems)
    Minor feedback

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Male
  • Location
    Auckland, New Zealand
  • Interests
    Hyenas and Squirrels, Reading and Music, Getting lost in the wonder and beauty of the World.

Recent Profile Visitors

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Fluke's Achievements

5

Reputation

  1. Responding to my own line (badly) because I's bored. --- Would you hold it for me? Would you ensure it's safe? Could you wait and see? Could you stand the chafe? Would you hold it for me? Would you treat it as art? Could you let me be free? Could you keep my heart? --- Next line - Dusk and other deadly dances
  2. The snow-capped mountains of hell He grunted as the last pick fell Whoever said this was a good idea Obviously had a head full of dust hair The snow-capped mountains of hell Where if falling no one would hear you yell The peak is here but what view for me More damned mountains and then the sea ----- Oops, next line.... - Would you hold it for me?
  3. OOC: EEee *wriggles* My thanks, I look forward to exploring The Pen further.
  4. Thank you all! I tend to only write in free form. Haiku's were the only form of poetry that they managed to impress on me properly at school. Sonnets terrify me.
  5. She shifted her feet for the dozenth time, trying to remember all that she had meant to say before approaching the door. Palms clenching with a squelch before she looked down with a disgusted sigh; shaking the hands out with a mutter. "You are a calm and secure person with a lot to offer, you make a good carrot cake and can fold laundry without wrinkles, no worries!" The last of that motivational speech came out slightly cracked and raised, an eyebrow joined it as she shook her head at her own folly. "Just knock on the door, what is the worst that could happen?" "Uh, uh, laughter and looks that ask why I've bought a scrap of ink dotted paper to a place of such importance?" "I need to stop talking to myself, what if someone is in there, hears this and adds crazy to the list, just drop it and go Fluke!" Heeding her own perhaps slightly over reactive advice she placed the paper with all the squiggles and ink blots carefully on the floor in front of the door. Perhaps with luck, the wind might blow it away and now one need ever know she had ventured here. She turned and started away with stealthy little steps better suited to a skulk. Below are the sum of the marks on the paper in full. --------------------- Applicant: Fluke Age: Does that still apply these days? I don't know, Botox has changed things and women old enough to be my grandmother look thirty. When did everyone younger than me start looking like they're prepubescent and definitely not old enough to be driving by themselves? 30. Writing form of Choice: Do I have to choose just one? I mean I would choose poetry but to be honest I would miss telling stories and being involved in them, there's a great deal to miss out on in this world. Description: Over exuberant with a dash of terror? Or do they mean my looks? A strange lady with odd clothing and brightly coloured hair? Or my brain... foggy and caffeine fueled run by a Squirrel and a Cat. Applicational Submitted Writing: Lift thine eyes to the tumbling heavens Drink ye cup of darkened spirits For tonight I shall tell ye of magical wonders And show ye all I have seen Blood crusted Jewels Stone cold, uncaring A sweet lovers caress Softly warm and heartfelt Keep an eye on the path for it is rocky and hard fought And listen to all of the words you've been taught But remember of all the ones of love The sweet bewitchment that comes from above. I'm naught but a wanderer and though my passion flies My pen is held with wooden hand that captures but a guise Of silken thoughts that float across a space that does not understand time My head is filled with imagery that cannot be described My soul longs to give voice to what I see but it hunkers deep inside Please accept this humble offering, I'm sorry if it slights My poetry is what I do when I cannot sleep at nights. The Teal Poet Fluke
  6. Fluke

    Graylands

    A topic dear to my heart, I like the escapism this poem implies.
  7. Fluke

    Waiting

    Loving your imagery.
  8. Critique welcome --- I dont know how it works I can only wonder why The way the world tips and spins Beneath a brightened sky Who left the light on? Turned off the night Left all my oddity Out in plain sight You don't understand it But then neither do I You ask me questions While I stare at the sky What is it you want from me? In a confused state such as mine There's nothing I can give to you Since I left sanity behind But there is one thing I can tell you One thing I cant hide It all starts inside of you Insanity begins with the mind.
  9. Disclaimer - I write for fun and rarely retouch my work, but I really welcome feedback, critical or otherwise. --- Sing for me He said And so I did Sing harder He cried And so I did Lift your voice to the skies And so I did Lift your voice to the Heavens! But my voice cracked The sound was lost And he left me Sing for me He said And so she did Sing harder He cried And so she did Lift your voice to the skies And so she did Lift your voice to the Heavens! And so she did She was perfect So he worshipped her.
  10. So she danced slowly on And in the beginning Step heavy and wrong There was no living So she danced slowly on Leaving shreds of self In prints small and wan She with no health So she danced slowly on Trying to remember What comes before dawn That doesn't offend her So she danced slowly on Wrestling with ideas That seem woebegone But lacking in tears So she danced slowly on And by the end of the night Her steps slowly belong To laughter and light -- New Line - When the madness overcame you
  11. Your second line was confusing because it was. --- She spun a silken lifeline The pressure of a touch could call Her future would not decline Sheltered against the corner wall He lifted up his head to scent Smells lingering along the fence Then shuffled on with energy pent Spines rippling in his defense --- Next Line: The sound echoed for days
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