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Fluid Dynamics


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This poem exists because of Bi_Janus's 'The Bleeding Moment' and comments it engendered.

Fluid Dynamics

by Camy

Two into one won't go we're told

which belies the truth of the matter.

The flow of life from tentative smile

to the final coital splatter.

They met in a bar him and her,

or him and him - your choice.

Egregious fun or a wilting son:

too much alcohol is a vice.

In bed they merge, become as one,

adventurously explore every orifice.

Incandescent love with every shove,

and never a hint of artifice.

Years fly by, their blood it flows,

their love each other's accomplice.

Wrinkled and old, toothless and bold,

their love a true love to rejoice.

Two into one is nought point five.

It's true, I read it on twitter!

Fluids and time - yet time is fluid.

Discuss, sit down, have a natter.

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I've found most all artforms evoke ideas. Poetry is certainly one. A thoughtful short story could easily evolve from those same sentiments that have now produced two poems. Paintings do the same for me, engender visions and ideas and thoughts. So does music. I guess, if a writer is bereft of story ideas, visiting museums and concert halls and readings might be a good way to get inspired, to get the creative juices boiling.


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I think this poem exists because Camy natters internally about much that he experiences and shares some of that nattering. Well done, sir. Poetry, music, painting, fiction are like stones dropped in a pond. Who knows what the ripples may disturb?

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