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.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
You have my soul, but you have your fate
Whatever your words, I’m willing to take
You have my word; I’ll give you my breath
It’s like a chain that would never be break
You are my love with all my heart,
I’ll fight for you with all my might.
And in the way, you admire your goals,
You hold my hands, but not so close.
As you go to your chosen path,
I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart.
In the dark side, I leave behind
Within my faith, that you’ll arise
Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still
I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near
I accept my fate for what it does,
I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was?
You reach your goals, as you want to have,
Would you remind the man that gave what he had?
As you reach the stars, and be the one
Be a sun that shines its own.
After the rain, the rainbow comes,
Like dark in the moon, when the light flash
A glimpse from you at least a short
For then I knew my pain is worth.
Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana | Year Posted 2013
The Nature of Success.
On an old tank ship that was so slow it felt as
we were suspended in time, a world shrunk
only us the ocean and the rhythmic hear beat
of the engine… and when the ship birthed, at
some god forsaken refinery, we felt overcome
by shyness seeing so many strange faces.
It was on a ship like this I met the third officer
a young man with literary ambitions, and he
succeeded on Norway´s modest literary tree.
Often interviewed, asked awkward questions
about writing and why he writes like it should
be a hidden formula.
I´m glad for his triumph, yet there is a sting in
my heart, not of rancor, but of sadness…never
having received the clarion call of acceptance.
Collections after collections have been rejected.
I feel as I have been suspended in a fool´s time,
only the sea and me and the shore is far away.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2012
A note to behold
That is strictly from my heart.
I am trained to have a little faith
Even when the night turns dry.
Maybe I am formidable to many course
But this one, I know is my call.
If at any time I will be retreating one
Not and Never will I quit my garden porch.
Even at the moment of inertia
My words are mine, not meant to be loosen.
If penury strikes me or I had a grudge
Not with my spare and axle of glory.
I may seems not to be buoyant before onlookers
But I believe My knowledge are Mine.
If there is no two ways about this
Then I am a winner of all time.
Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013
A child once began as
a small infant who scrawled words,
and jumbled letters.
They played hopscotch, and drew with
multi colored chalk.
Children adorn the world- with their adorable
beams of light, to their little palms caked in
To commemorate these childhood memories...
be so nostalgic.
For deep down in our very soul we yearn to have that
tireless vitality, exulting through our play
The wonder we experienced as children,
The first finding of a fragile butterfly, fluttering
it wings upon the bridge of our palm.
the green stains planted upon our jeans, from
rolling down the luscious green hills.
Oh how the mud, stains and constant colors
sweep us into infinity… the infinite spectrum of childhood.
But we also hold a little snippet of our childhood inside ourselves, for one seedling
was spawned inside our very being,
This be called our inner child.
Our inner child- knows all.
It knows our virtues and aspirations,
From the spontaneous switches of
In this world we create for ourselves
we still be inchworms, inching up
the side of the grand tree of life.
We find it formidable at first, trying to reach our
little arms up, to touch the far boughs of the treetop.
We climb and climb, and nibble on
wholesome leaves of knowledge-
Chewing mathematics, and algebra.
Savoring vocabulary with each morsel
of a synonym or of an antonym.
And at the near end.. once we reach the top,
It be lofty and our goals be met from
the plan we hatched as infants.
Our idealistic self be nurtured and nourished
now, by knowledge and the sense of our true self.
The treetop be not the end of our life;
But be the time for us as inchworms and as people..
to flutter where the wind takes us-
This is not Mexico though, this be the
spacious palm of the
Copyright © Madison Demetros | Year Posted 2016
Work starts the flow
As action tells
The finds that show
As fruit compels.
Start with ideas
That come to you
To live bold cheer
In acts that cue.
Go on to strive
With plan that works
To fashion life
In fling and jerk.
Be without fear
For joy lives here
To help you steer
What voice endears.
Yes fate decrees
Your space and time
To now set free
Reason that rhymes.
Be willing now
To voice your choice:
To act know-how
In firm, sure poise.
And if you fail
Along the way,
Learn to prevail
With faith that stays.
Failure can taunt,
Pain can defame;
Let faith now flaunt,
Defuse vain blame.
Timing is all
For success is
Beyond mere gall
In sacred bliss.
Each moment brings
A chance to make
Bold action sing
In happy stakes.
Your vision starts
What mission feeds;
Give purpose heart,
And passion seed.
Live well each day,
Discern your stuff
Along the way
To win enough.
Then by and by,
The path turns light;
You gain new highs,
Things turn out right.
Success is whole,
Right by your side;
Just live with soul,
Enjoy the ride.
31 July 2014
Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2014
Another older post.....funny how some material things represent success....these red-soled shoes certainly do exactly that to many women, including my grandddaughter (maybe she'll get a pair if she graduates from med school)- so here's to my girl and what I know goes through her mind when she sees picture of "Christian Louboutin's"
One word is all that comes to mind-
As I hear the tapping of heels on pavement,
Christian Louboutin, the slayer of all shoes,
I see the smooth black leather studded pumps,
The tiny details of his red soles catch my eye,
I know when I wear them I will raise my head up high,
Rarely do people disapprove,
Always sold in pairs – that’s two,
I know one day I’ll own a few,
Christian Louboutin, the slayer of all shoes!
One picture is all that comes to mind-
When I see the soles of a special kind,
I kick my feet up high,
Longing for the day when I can wear those heels with pride,
Makeup, hair, and nails all match,
My red soles and I can never be detached,
The sight of a deep red,
It is what I’ve tattooed in my head,
Permanently stitched into my view,
Christian Louboutin, the slayer of all shoes!
Copyright © Genevieve Mika-Stevens | Year Posted 2016
Born from a generation of mighty men.
Conceived in love, raise by queens
Driven from our mother land
Force to work,deprived of knowledge
Beaten to the pulp.
Slaves we were
Not fully understood we were
Taken for granted abused and used
A young generation forgotten
Lost and confused in strife and war
Dieing at the hands of drugs and guns.
Hope and faith risen from the land
To teach our children elegance and grace
Nobility and Honor
Peace and Love.
Honesty and Loyalty
Unity and Humanity
Humble and Patient
Believe and Achieve
Motivation and Ambition
The Key to Success.
Copyright © Patricia Garcia Howard Bramble | Year Posted 2009