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Best Games Poems

Below are the all-time best Games poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of games poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Definition & Discussion of Games Poems
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See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Games Poem | |

Chess

A row of marbled faces, eerily looking the same,
Vulnerably standing, with no fear or shame.

The King is calm and quiet, simple in his speed.
Short on time and energy, filled with anger and greed.

The Queen beside him controlling, no where she can't go,
She moves with mighty vengeance, a smooth ebb and flow.

The Bishop is almighty; hoping none of them will fall.
Crossing back and forth, giving his blessings to them all.

The Rook is our tower, hidden, way off to the side.
It's there our King can castle if he needs somewhere to hide.

I watch the game play out before me, strategy and endurance.
With a rhythmic to and fro, the battle is a bloody dance.

Protect the King at all costs, that is our passionate creed.
Give to him our faithfulness and he will return our need.

Everyone of us is special, we all play a key role to winning.
He admires and will provide for us, he tells us at the beginning.

When the knight stood in front of me, with his steel sword drawn.
I realized right then and there, all I was is just a pawn.

05-13-2014
Casarah Nance &
Tim Smith

Details | Games Poem | |

Without A Clue


The guests were partying in the big house
a burglar sneaked in armed with a lead pipe
Mrs. White in the kitchen bastes a grouse
Colonel Mustard had guests caught in his hype

A candle stick shone while hung from a rope
in the library Miss Scarlett, dressed in red
felt a cold shiver when a hand did grope
then led to the study, she, filled with dread

In the hall a loud bang sounds with a boom
a revolver echoed…  Reverend Green fell
Professor Plum in the billiard room
bled from a dagger…a final farewell

In the lounge, Mrs Peacock ( what a wench )
reflects on her actions, holding a wrench

© 9/6/2014

This sonnet is based on the game of Cluedo it has 
been the source of many hours of entertainment
and the source of many an argument, possibly 
leading to murder.
Mr Green was originally called Reverend Green
it was changed to Mr. for the American market.

Details | Games Poem | |

Vibrant Verse 2

Crackle, pop, fizz,
the soda pop sweetly
sings.
A tall, ice cold
glass of Coca-cola
sweats beside me.
Circles on the
hardwood floor, I
hide under a pillow.
Father would be
furious, I won't let
him see.

My brother and me
side by side on the
floor.
Too close to the
television, I don't
heed warnings.
The whirlwind of
competition in the
air,
a tornado of
energetic video
games in the
mornings.

My tiny hands grasp
the Nintendo
controller.
The red buttons beg
to be pushed in fast
fury.
Up, down, up, down,
left, right, left,
I'm coded.
Mortal combat, my
character blazed in
a hurry.

Blow by blow,
defeated one too
many times, revenge.
Excited language
spills from our not
so innocent speech.
Pillows between us
start to wrestle
with each other,
In his playful anger
he throws mine out
of reach.

The battle is
heating up vibrant
and controlled.
Colorfully splayed
across the screen,
good times had.
Perfect sibling
competition,
rivalries and pride
tested.
I scream "I've won,
finally!" I was too
loud, I woke up Dad.

Grounded from the
hypnotic lights on
the screen,
Still I grin from my
well thumbed gaming
victory.
It might have been
the first time and
the last time,
But I can say that
at least once, I was
the winner, yes, me!


For Contest Vibrant
Verse 2
08-01-2014

Details | Games Poem | |

Lost in Youth

Lost in Youth

Rainbows in the clouds, walking on  railroad tracks , locomotives up close 
Kickball games , I am left footed, spooky reflections in a mirror, running naked 
Wooden desks and chairs, kids in the classroom , the little girl across the street 
Black and white T.V., Air conditioning , a new blue car, exhaust  fumes
The farm, coal fired furnace , warm heating ducts 
a collie , a cocker spaniel and a horse named Thunder
Dark starry nights , telescopes , comets and satellites
Northern winters, snow covered fields ,sledding, frozen lakes , and Orion 
Camping in fields , mosquitoes bites , quiet dawns and heavy morning  dew,  
Grandparents ,riding  lawn mowers , apple trees , flower and vegetable gardens
 Southern Summers , warm muggy nights , ceiling  fans ,open screened windows
Screened in porches, ancient toys, , tiny  transistor radios, baseball games  talking late into the night 
Badminton , side lawns , and long rides home
Public pools , icy waters and underwater swims 
Trombone , marching band and high school football games
Sleepy classes, friends , lunchroom games, and girls 
High school graduation , college and final goodbyes


Details | Games Poem | |

Another man's Clothes

The idea behind this poem came from reading a poem of the same title, written by Richard “Canadian Man-god” Lamoureux. Now, his poem went in an entirely powerful, yet other, direction than I thought it was going to go. I happily let him know that. So, he decided to have me touch upon where I thought he was going with his poem. 

Some people really need to be careful what they ask for… ;-) 

On an 8pm, Louisiana dream

Tastes of nocturnal, July humidity
Succumbs flagrant passions 
With moistened grip, they tease

Coltrane whispers annihilate tense exhales
Under concave moon

She threw Mr. So and So onto Pacific Ocean’s waterbed
As if she was a professional baseball pitcher
Down
The
Middle

His exuberance would shatter sound’s tattered walls.

Slow grinds
Chemical reactionary bliss
Similar to Neutron bombs
Minus the consequences

Her tailored skin
Ready for gripped, enigmatic resolutions

But, first,
She had to “freshen up”

“You’re already being fresh, don’t stop on my account”,
He says with Monday mourning frustration

As cedar scented bathroom door shuts with determined patience,
And running water with a mix of Celine Dion hums from her trained throat
He stands to gather his thoughts…

…until his eyes exit stage right towards her opened travel bag

A pair of satin boxers & edible, Cotton Candy hand-cuffs from Target
With a signed, perfumed gift tag,
“Can’t wait for tomorrow, Mr. Such and Such,
-Love, your Hedonistic dream”

As running water came to serenity’s halt,
She exited restroom with shedding curves.

Her strut became dislocated,
As she stared into his trembling pupils
Wiping the cotton coating from his lips

“Too bad you couldn’t chew your way out of this one”,
The other half of the handcuffs smeared in cursive signature
Against yellow-gold gift tag he hands her with unedited closure

With striking slams against Louisiana hotel door
Parallel to Mother Nature’s thunderous clap

He exits stage left
Giving almost-lover
A proverbial slap

©Drake J. Eszes

Details | Games Poem | |

I really am a golfer

I really am a golfer 
And let me tell you why
Its only when I swing a club
I really feel alive

I really am a golfer 
And take my driver out 
I swing my club and hit the ball
As hard and I have might

I really and a golfer
My ball is in the rough 
I swing my metal 3 real hard
To find the grass is tuff

I really am a golfer
My ball goes 50 ft.
It’s out the rough and in the sand
And buried very deep

I really am a golfer 
I take my sand wedge out
I open up the face of it 
And swing it with a clout

I really am a golfer
My ball is on the green
I swing the putter in an arc 
 With boggy on the seen

I really am a Golfer
My put goes 10ft past
I’m looking at a double 
But the Green is just too fast

I really am a golfer 
The balls beside the cup
I make it in the center
And my friends they call it luck 

Details | Games Poem | |

Probabilities


   relying on chance 
trying to find a needle 
   inside a haystack

a well-balanced choice
  a winner or a loser
   you can bet on it

     when tossing a coin
the most probable outcome
  would be heads or tails

     lack of dialogue
increases the probable
   failure of marriage

        waking up early
does not always guarantee
    you’ll see the sun rise

  weighing pros and cons
when faced with a decision
  between right or wrong


------------------------------------------
Author: Paul Callus ~ 24th July, 2014
Contest: Haiku on Probabilities
Sponsor: Marvin Celestial
Placing: 2nd




Details | Games Poem | |

Roll'em

One wake-up away
From the best day of your life.
Life’s just a crapshoot. 

Details | Games Poem | |

BIO Of A Simple Man Called Me

            BIO Of A Simple Man Called Me

Coming from a normal family
Perhaps not by today’s standards
I had two loving parents who stayed together 
They lived and died together, that was their choice
And molded me to be a humble man of virtue
Most friends and family call me “gullible”
I believe anything you tell me… but only once
My parents named me Earl and wished me luck
Short stories, plays, novels, and sometimes poetry, is my way of life
I have nothing published but I still like to write
No one will pay me for reading books, so I played the game
Giving people subpoenas, travel documents, all in the same day
A travel manager by day, a constable’s officer by night
I’ve led an interesting, sometimes dangerous life
I’ve even had a wife or two and a couple of children along the way 
I love chess and Zelda video games and played for hours
The Beatles are the best of the very best for music pleasure
Kafka, Samuel Beckett and Hesse are still such fun to read
People still call me gullible and lame
But I’m still standing, still playing in the game

      Created on 10/09/14 for BIO Poems -Poetry Contest 

Details | Games Poem | |

Speak Of Real Bliss

I stopped combing my heart
So my feelings could lock up
And I’d be able to speak of real bliss
Then wrap my love around how unlike
The others you drew no boundaries
But still you knew who you want
And I didn’t have to pull any stunts
Or play these games 
That we all play when the days
Turn to night and her smile
Shines so bright

I’m enamoured 
Losing all my power
But I don’t need this
Lie to steal this kiss
And I don’t have to lie 
Or invent moments that
Speak of real bliss 
Or wish that she was another
Cause she’s the other
I wished they all were

The games I used to stir
My pot of lies
And tries to be the man
I’m not ready to be
You had the foresight to see
That soon I’ll be the man
Who speaks of real bliss
And wants to give you kids
Living the best life  
You’ll ever know
We’ll grow together

Maybe even old
A weathered couple 
Reminiscing about that Tuesday night
We had our last first kiss
The night I learned how
To speak of real bliss.

Details | Games Poem | |

The Hunger Games-Poem

Enter the arena
Buckle down


Ready?
Set?
Kill!

A gong sounds
We're off

The Hunger Games have begun!

Blades of swords and knives crash
Arrows whizzing.

Run. run, run
Away from the cornacopia!

Blood splatters, staining the earth
Bodies splayed on the ground

Some survive
Others die right off hand

Only one left to be the VICTOR!
Welcome to The Hunger Games!!!!

This is based on a very good book called The Hunger Games (well good in my 
opinion). This future distopian science-fiction novel is about future North America. 
The Capitol is a very dictator-like establishment and starve their citizens then throw 
them into the hunger games, a fight to the death on live television.

Details | Games Poem | |

The Victory Dance

To play as if today
Is your only chance.
Some say, “It’s just a game.”
Have they done the Victory Dance?

When hard-earned Victory
Was finally at hand,
Have they felt the glory
Raining down from the stands?

To do or not to do….
No one wants to hear, “We tried.”
Effort and dedication will be rewarded… 
And ‘Sooner Magic’ is on your side. 

Yes, to fall short is still an option;
But much better to succeed.
Heroes are made and remembered
Only by their deeds.

So, just go out and win.
Give your all to each and every chance.
Persevere and achieve…

And do the Victory Dance.


Details | Games Poem | |

The Game

My life has been one enormous charade,
A make believe game,
A play I have played, 
A story I tell myself, day and night,
Hidden from myself, out of sight,
A game of hide and seek,
While searching for something else to eat.

The game,
A cosmic game,
A comic game,
A bad joke,
A puff of smoke,
A laugh,
A bath,
A lonely path,
The Game.

I used to take it so seriously,
Think it, feel it so real, so perfectly,

So certain I that was right,
That I lived in the light,
So convinced that I knew the rules,
So obvious I had all the tools,
That I saw the truth, 
That I saw the light,
Would win the battle, win the fight.


Heard the sound of the distant drum,
Calling me to battle with the devious one.
The walls of my ego were high and mighty,
My dreams and delusions danced in front of me,
Their smooth dark surface impossible to climb,
Images I swallowed and thought were mine.


I made them alive, moving and real,
Twist and turn like a slimy eel,
Just to tell myself that I was still someone,
Playing in the game and having lots of fun,
Just to tell me and to tell you,
That I wasn't a loser,
So I wouldn’t hear the words game over.


Game over,
Check and mate,
Here's the gate,
You have to take,
Out of the Game,
The game of shame.


The game of avoiding being blue,
Of dogging the bullets they shot at you,
The atomic bomb they drop on your head,
The monsters that they put under your bed.


The game of hiding away,
Live to play another day,
Even if it's only make believe,
The prizes in plastic,
And not worth a dime,
At least I have the impression that they are mine,
At least I don't fell the pain,
The pain of shame,
In this perverted game.


So that I don't feel I'm a prisoner,
Tied to this post,
Don't even realise that I'm only a ghost,
That the truth is well hidden,
On the board of the game.

That the prizes are in plastic,
But they are shiny and new,
The paint hardly chipped,
The emptiness hardly shows through,
The laughing is loud,
The smiles are all warm and friendly,
And we are all together,
Joyful and happy.


The illusion is REAL,
And only the mad man knows,
That it's a rotten deal.

more of my poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com

Details | Games Poem | |

The Jungle Gym

Jungle Jim is rather grim
And now is old and gray
He misses the activity
Of children hard at play
The children grew
Made new friends too
And eventually moved away
Now his time has past
He's failing fast
And falls into decay

Details | Games Poem | |

Because They Play the Game

Dedicated to every young man bestowed the honor of wearing 
the glorious Oklahoma Sooners' Crimson & Cream 

--------------------------------------------------------------

Over sixty years, boy and man, I have been a Sooners fan;
And always hoped to be among the truest in the stands.
And while I don’t remember all the Players’ names,
They’re my Heroes, each and every one, because they play the game.
  
When they’re on the field of battle, my Sooners surely give their all;
And when they’re on the sidelines, just waiting for a Coach’s call;
Visions of Glory must be dancing in their heads;
The Glory of the moment and our cheers, the Glory of playing for
   the mighty Big Red.

And for those Sooners who rarely played, whose names were 
   known only by a few,
Make no mistake my friend, each of them is my Hero too.
Like Soldiers waiting in the ranks, but never called to fight,
They ‘re ready and they’re willing, their spirit and their sacrifice
   add to Big Red’s might.

I stand in awe of Sooner Magic.  No, I never doubt it.
My Sooners could have never won so many Championships without it.
But don’t misunderstand when I say Sooner Magic won those games;
It was Sooners players who, once again, rose to the occasion and
   glorified the name.

Sixty years of college football and my Sooners have won the most.
Their fierce pride and performance inspire this simple toast:
“My Sooners Team goes on and on, different faces, different names;
But my Heroes, Each and Every one, for win or lose…
                                              
                                 They play the game.

Details | Games Poem | |

A Golf lesson

Over fifty years have passed,
Tho’ it seems like just the other day;
My father gave me golf clubs,
“It’s a game you need to learn to play.”

He said, “It’s very difficult, but so is life.
There’s more to learn than grip and swing and rules,
Like honesty and dealing with adversity;
Then, pointing to his head, “… and how to use ALL your tools.

Play the Course… and Mother Nature…
Focus on just one shot at a time;
Try to learn from each of your mistakes;
Then, do your best to leave them behind.

These clubs will teach you more
Than our ‘man to man’ talks.
This you'll learn for yourself,
So you can “walk the walk.”

“Practice makes better, but not perfect.
And always remember what they say:
‘”Golf is not a game that we can win.
It’s just a game we play.’”

His lessons served me very well,
Took them to heart and played the game.
And life is much like a round of golf.
Despite the bad shots, I’m always glad I came.





 









Details | Games Poem | |

acceptance

   Who's that staring through my window walls, with eyes as old as time
the clock has not yet moved and the wind outside has died
no breath for me to find nor the strength to check the time
unless the minute hand is lying theirs a chance i may have died
I wish this all a dream but the eyes i see dont lie, they have told me with their watching that all men do really cry
yet in vain is all my wishing but perhaps this is delusion of a sedimentary man with his mind ripe for losing 
Come at me then red devil, I shout within my mind yet the tension I had hoped for was delayed and rather dry
no ravishingly velvet flame encircled this such room, nor were the furniture and ottoman  thrown like an old shoe
marvelous the time in which a demon throwns your home and his only one intent is to stare right through your soul
 to that i bid goodnight to you, to do as you wish, regardless of the manner I am nothing more then fish. to be shot out of a barrel for a fellow such as this
If you do deem it fit that I wake another morning all i ask is that the clocks all please return to working order

Details | Games Poem | |

Stripes

They both wear black and white,
Sport’s fans will see some tonight,
As one type skates on frozen water,
The other keeps a herd in order.

The man can get caught up in media hype,
Each has the same angle of stripe,
Only one has them down to the toes,
And tries to out run the foes.

Seeing far away is their asset,
Always watching out for a threat,
While the other kind may need to hide,
Making some calls they seem crossed-eyed.

A zebra is born looking like this,
All the while, hoping their enemy will miss,
Linesmen and refs are known to make a bad call,
In the end, it could be a team’s down fall.

Details | Games Poem | |

Lockout

To the most ardent fans, this year has been hell. There are plenty of idle hockey rinks throughout the NHL. With season ticket holders, this has not been nice. They want to see their favorite players roughhousing on the ice. The team owners have been staging a lockout. Will there be hockey games this year? There is increasing doubt. In the National Hockey League, nothing is coming up roses. No players have been losing teeth or getting broken noses. Nobody is slap shooting that hard rubber hockey puck. We want to see the games played, but we are out of luck. We are stuck with watching basketball games around here. Perhaps both sides will come to terms and play hockey next year.

Details | Games Poem | |

Teach Your Children Well

Children learn by the games they play
the games you teach them to control
They watch your eyes, they watch your smile
your opinions take a heavy toll.

Do you teach them to run and jump high
or lead them into a darkened room.
Do you give them guns and sword play
or send them outside to grow and bloom.

Have you explained the hurt, and the pain
which comes from the letting of blood
or glorified taking of sides
and bleeding victims crushed in the mud.

Two dimensional deeds plant red seeds
in the fertile fields of growing minds.



*title credit to Crosbey Stills and Nash

Details | Games Poem | |

I'm the Power Player

10
I sprint as I cry in pain
Coach yells, “ RUN, PASS, SCORE”
9
Blocking out all the screaming
And the chaotic noises
8
From the sidelines
I dash through five tough defenders
With everything that I have got
7
Out of breath I devour the last of energy 
I can use to score the winning goal
6
Ball zigzags in between my bright orange cleats
As I fly through many obstacles that 
Get in my way
5
Five seconds left in the game
Will it make it in I think as my fingers are crossed
4
All the pressure is on that ball and I
As it soars over the field where I am myself and
Flies to high for the other team players to get
3
The ball tears through the goalie's gloves.
 No one can drop the confidence level I have just received 
2
The ball collides against the net, and I have caught a joyous victory
That exact moment pays up for the backbreaking, painstaking work I've put in
With every goal I score, I rule the world
1
That’s why I am the Power Player of the team
I don’t give up because I’m all determination 
For my love of Soccer

Details | Games Poem | |

KING ME-

KING ME!!

"Another date you and I !!"
Sharing moments ~ "Eye To Eye!!"
Lost of words and you know why?
Your trophy is to kill,
mine's to hang you out to dry.
Testing your skill,
simmering my skills down to your level.
You play like Mr Sandman, slipping me with a sleeping pill.
You don't have what it takes to pick up the pace.
You think this is like the rabbit and turtle race. 

You take up, to much time studying my moves.
"DUH~ YOU DUMMY!!"
"I pull the same ones, THAT'S WHY YOU ALWAYS LOSE!! "

In some games you have me  figured out.
Due to that one corner move, that makes me shout.
Another double jump'
You got me off guard!
I love the way you show me~ NEVER UNDERESTIMATE A RETARD~
King me! 
You say and I say no way!
Another game you win, when I lose my patients to play.

Every one of your moves has a ploy,
My sweet love, I'm only here to destroy.
I don't know why you think this game is LONG-TERM.
Waiting for you to move, is wearing out my new perm.
I can feel all the mass pass me by, its like watching a worm slowly die.
Sorry if I jumped twice before your piece was confirm.
But, it is very cute to watch you wiggle and squirm.

I don't like the way you bring my race with a slow victory.
It's like killing a roach without glory.
I rejects this formal game to base it on reality.
As  our minds are internal contradictory.

I hope you realize you will never be better than me.
All the games you won, lets say there where freebies.
In order to play a flawless game of checkers, 
you have to consider "" no winners at all ""

Go ahead and jump, this one's on me.
I love the way you tease and love me tenderly.
KING ME! 
There you go with your dirty grin.
So devilish, when I let you win.

by;p.d.

dedicated to: Nate..
Who can't keep up with my wins on CHECKERS.....

Details | Games Poem | |

Thousand Pieces of Puzzle Present

We don’t so much as beg, “Mom can I?” no, just stand idle,           lean on one leg, 
pick up                           and set down pieces with the care of an egg the quietest
until we know            it fits                                     into the slowly growing frame,
and sneak , click it in, every once in a while
or we seek out edges,            set them in a pile
            sort by color         and             sort by texture
until “would you please bring me?”                              from a parent sends us off
after we bring mugs of Tom & Jerry’s with a dash of nutmeg, or plates of cookies 
       back the fastest
                      we find a reason to sit,                  no one says anything
this is our one large family present,    one thousand pieces spread across our table
we are entitled                                                                        such are our wiles 
unnoticed we fit in to the family picture,           puzzle hour after hour until the day 
or hour or errand                         came and we steal away and see who could hold
out longest 
hiding the piece that fits into the thousand pieces last


                                                                                  or is forever 
                                                                                                                  lost

Details | Games Poem | |

The Sooner Recruit

Fifty years, boy and man, I’ve been a Sooners fan;
And watched thousands of recruits try to make my Sooners Team.
Often, I’ve enviously wondered what it must be like
To be a touted Sooners recruit, living out his dream.

He’d had a great career through high school;
Made good grades, was a football star, played baseball too.
Coach said college recruiters were watching closely;
So, he tried his very best to make his dream come true.

You see, he’d played on the L’il Sooners as a kid;
Started getting serious about the game when he was only eight
Played with older, bigger boys and practiced hard;
Always told his friends, “To be a Sooner, ya gotta play great”.

Oh yes, his parents raised a football player;
And, even more important, a Sooners fan;
But he wanted more, to be a Sooner,
To feel the glory raining down from the stands. 

Now, the Sooners’ Head Coach is in his living room.
“Son, you’ve got talent.  We think you fit our scheme.
We’re offering you a scholarship, an opportunity
To be an important member of our great Sooners Team”.

His mother smiles her biggest smile.
His father nods proudly and pats him on the knee.
“Lord knows, son, it’s a dream come true.
Go be the very best Sooner you can be”.

He walks into the locker room,
Not quite sure what to expect;
But sure that to play for the Sooners
He will first have to earn respect.

He looks each man straight in the eye - 
Other recruits, trainers, assistants, and every coach.
“Be proud, but respectful”, his mother had said;
Your character, more than your performance, must be above reproach”.

His handshake is firm and he smiles.
“Only one chance for a first impression”, his father had said;
"Always put yourself in positive light, on and off the field.
That’s what it will take to play for the mighty Big Red”.

He meets so many other recruits, each one a high school star.
He’s played against a few and knows they share his dream.
And, to a man, each knows before any chance for Glory,
He first must prove worthy to play for this Sooners Team.

He knows a few will fail to meet the coaches’ expectations.
For some, the scout team will be their fate.
Many will suit up, but rarely play.
Only the very best will ever dare to be great.

Coach says, “If every man learns and executes when called on,
Then this team, we Sooners, will win a lot of games;
But, win or lose, if you play hard and give your very best,
You’ll never have to hang your heads in shame”.

“But gentlemen, with or without you, this team will win.
Every season, the Sooners strive to win it All.
So, listen, work hard, and prepare yourselves.  Each game is war...
And you must be ready when Victory calls”.

Through grueling practices, he finds himself.
As he walks to class, his closest friends are aches and pains;
But, just the other day, Coach helped him up, smiled, and patted his helmet.
“You’re doin’ fine, son.  Keep pushin’.  Remember, no pain, no gain”.

He sees his name on the "open scrimmage" roster for the very first time.
It’s a moment he’ll never forget, another milestone in his dream.
He calls his Mom and Dad, knowing they’ll tell his family and his friends.
He hopes they’ll actually see him play, proof he’s made the Team.

As he suits up for the last pre-season open scrimmage,
He wonders if the coaches would really let a freshman play at all;
But Coach puts him in for eight plays against the first team;
He makes two great open-field tackles and intercepts the ball.

He barely hears the roar of the crowd, as the whole defense “gives him five”.
He’s so excited, he forgets to ask if he can keep that ball.
Fans are buzzing, “Did you see that hit”!?  “Who is that kid”!?
“Will he red shirt or will Coach let him play this fall”? 

He sees his name in the Sunday paper, hears it on local sports.
He’s happy, but he doesn’t let it go to his head.
He keeps his focus and uses it as motivation.
After all, he wants to start one day for the mighty Big Red.

Yes, we’ll hear more of this young recruit.
Perhaps, one day he’ll be the hero of the game.
A seasoned veteran, maybe All Conference or even All American,
Who’s tasted Victory many times and helped glorify the Sooners’ name.

Oh yes, there have been so many who’ve aspired;
But many fewer who’ve actually made our Sooners Team.
They are our heroes, each and every one;
For it’s through their accomplishments, we fans can live the dream.

Billy Vessels, Steve Owens, Billy Sims, and Jason White,
The Selmons, Little Joe, the Boz, Josh Heupel, and “Q”
They, and so many others, were once touted Sooners recruits;
Who set a higher mark and built the Tradition that is OU.

So, c’mon! c’mon! all you great young football players!
Dedicate your talents to OU’s Team and OU’s Fans.
Make Oklahoma’s Owen Field your Field of Dreams,
And feel the Glory raining down from the stands. 

Details | Games Poem | |

A MONUMENT OF GREATNESS

Built with the sweat and blood of slaves,
the Colosseum is a monument of greatness
to testify the glorious might of Rome...
in the arena, chariots fights were awesome!


Romans cherished the stately structure to escape boredom, 
but death lurked above as gladiators heard loud cheer
and sharpened their swords hoping to get priceless freedom;
Emperor Vespasian only envisioned glory, not deadly fear! 


Who didn't like the gladiators combats?
Everybody was happy as bread was eaten...
a free gift from emperors to all citizens;
oh, they cheered when one of them went down!


Nero was one of the fairest and maddest emperors,
he also enjoyed the games held in the Colosseum
and ordered the slaughtering of innocent Christians;
didn't he falsely blame them for burning Rome?


Today, the Colosseum stands as a testimony of a great western civilization
that endured for over four hundred years allowing change and assimilation;  
wasn't it exciting living in the capital of the ancient world and shout, " Hail, Caesar! "  
while rubbing shoulders with the common people who adored his crown and scepter?