Flow

Flow jokes

Love

    • In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A curious tale, strange as the night, Of Alex Fisher, with love so bizarre, For random Hitler lemons, bizarre but bizarre.

    Free Verse, they say, this poem shall be, Unrestrained, unrhymed, flowing and free, Yet how to capture this perplexing love, For lemons and Hitler, soaring above?

    Alex Fisher, a soul with peculiar taste, Finds joy in lemons with a sour embrace, And Hitler, a name that evokes dark pain, Inexplicably entwined, like wind and rain.

    Randomness, the thread that weaves this tale, No logic, no reason, no rhyme to prevail, For who could fathom this peculiar love, Of lemons and Hitler, below and above?

    Yet in the realm of words, where all is allowed, We explore the uncharted, the strange and the proud, And though this poem may bewilder and confuse, Let it remind us, acceptance we must choose.

    For love knows no boundaries, no norms to abide, It transcends our expectations, with no need to hide, So let us embrace the quirks that make us unique, For in the tapestry of life, we find what we seek.

    So here's to Alex Fisher, with love all their own, May they find happiness, wherever they've flown, In lemons and Hitler, a world so absurd, May their love be a reminder, that love has no words.

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    • Flow memes

    Plumber

    • Couldn't believe how much of a bad mood my work mate was in this morning. So I decided to ask him what was the matter and if everything was OK with his wife, Flo.

    He then broke down crying and said when he got home the night before, he caught his wife in bed with the plumber. I tried to console him as best as I could, but he just couldn't get over flow.

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    • Astronaut

    • Astronaut In The Ocean-By- Masked Wolf and watersharky Music Productions-

    Astro-naut

    What you know about rollin' down in the deep?

    When your brain goes numb, you can call that mental freeze

    When these people talk too much, put that shit in slow motion, yeah

    I feel like an astronaut in the ocean, ayy

    What you know about rollin' down in the deep?

    When your brain goes numb, you can call that mental freeze

    When these people talk too much, put that shit in slow motion, yeah

    I feel like an astronaut in the ocean

    She say that I'm cool (damn straight)

    I'm like "yeah, that's true" (that's true)

    I believe in G-O-D (ayy)

    Don't believe in T-H-O-T

    She keep playing me dumb (play me)

    I'ma play her for fun (uh-huh)

    Y'all don't really know my mental

    Lemme give you the picture like stencil

    Falling out, in a drought

    No flow, rain wasn't pouring down (pouring down)

    See, that pain was all around

    See, my mode was kinda lounged

    Didn't know which-which way to turn

    Flow was cool but I still felt burnt

    Energy up, you can feel my surge

    I'ma kill everything like this purge (ayy)

    Let's just get this straight for a second, I'ma work

    Even if I don't get paid for progression, I'ma get it (get it)

    Everything that I do is electric

    I'ma keep it in a motion, keep it moving like kinetic, ayy (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

    Put this shit in a frame, better know I don't blame

    Everything that I say, man I seen you deflate

    Let me elevate, this ain't a prank

    Have you walkin' on a plank, la-la-la-la-la, like

    Both hands together, God, let me pray (now let me pray)

    Uh, I've been going right, right around, call that relay (Masked Wolf)

    Pass the baton, back and I'm on

    Swimming in the pool, Kendrick Lamar, uh

    Want a piece of this, a piece of mine, my peace a sign

    Can you please read between the lines?

    My rhyme's inclined to break your spine

    They say that I'm so fine

    You could never match my grind

    Please do not, not waste my time

    What you know about rollin' down in the deep?

    When your brain goes numb, you can call that mental freeze

    When these people talk too much, put that shit in slow motion, yeah

    I feel like an astronaut in the ocean, ayy

    What you know about rollin' down in the deep?

    When your brain goes numb, you can call that mental freeze

    When these people talk too much, put that shit in slow motion, yeah

    I feel like an astronaut in the ocean.

    Horse

    • The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"

    Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!

    The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.

    For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!

    The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!

    In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.

    "The little horse wins!"

    "Lath, an easy winner!"

    "Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"

    People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.

    Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.

    "I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."

    Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.

    A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.

    "And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"

    Agba leaned forward in his saddle.

    There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."

    How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.

    The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.

    Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.

    He had kept his word!

    For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.

    The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in...

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