Balls Out Poems - Poems about Balls Out

When I was only ten years old, I yelled at my TV For I could not believe the filth they played to kids like me Right there upon my TV screen, a frog with skin of green Was lusted after by a pig whose plans were quite obscene That frog would always act like he was playing hard to...

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The shuttlecock's not got a feather my balls have lost their tether yo-yo and hula hoop have gone for a loop chasing rainbow's become a boring chore in any kind of weather and me I fling and fly frisbees no more as now there's come the day when games and music I can't play the fiddle has a broken bow out of wind such...

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When first I went ten-pin bowling was in a league of my own tho' hot to trot my score was shot splits and gutterballs set the tone my opponent bowled professionally outclassed before I'd begun she demonstrated then remonstrated “It's not 'only a game' to some!” tho' bet my set I'd met my match when playing each frame for a round looked like I'm paying...

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I do enjoy verbal tennis wordplay may be a game outwit outsmart the opponent is the only aim lobbing phrases across the net volley and rally back and forth no one's a loser and yet those precious few who think on their feet will always win have you beat Shakespeare is the all-time champ merely a player with poem and sonnet through thick and thin he'd go...

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~ to the tune of 'Jingle Bells,' please ~ Tushies slide, what a ride slipping on the ice All we need’s a beaming bride and a few bouquets of rice Where’s the groom, in his...

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Laura Norder took her gun and strapped it to her thigh The skirt she wore was so damned short she had to strap it high And stood there on the corner where the street lamps dare not tread She waited for the man who had perversion in his head Sirens in the distance wouldn’t come to watch her back A...

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On Tuesday night I had to stay up late I needed to see who'd win the debate But I don't want to talk about that I just want to know who ate my cat...

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balls of lightning scrape the darkness off my bedroom window desert hills illuminated thundering growls of a grumpy giant rumble through the night while my pillow squishes against my chest like you loud huffs and puffs scatter twigs, leaves and dust across the concrete sky's all swollen up and the earth pants in anticipation bucking to meet the clouds ravished trees rustle thirsty for so long dry blades of grass stand so...

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I like to write a verse or two, I do it all the time Oftentimes it’s limericks, and sometimes perfect rhyme But this is not my hobby, it’s just something that I do I have a hobby and I write, but can’t combine the two Hitting balls with sticks is what I do to get my fix I aim...

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My balls, bouncing on the concrete. So bouncy they are. I go to kick them and they travel, so far. But then they pop, I start to cry. Now all I want to do is go and die....

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Mandrake’s sisters had fuzzy balls Green fuzzy balls on their roller skates Red fuzzy balls on their ice skates Purple and pink fuzzy balls on their backpacks You cannot have fuzzy balls they told him You are a boy It would be silly for a boy to have fuzzy balls So he grew up and made himself a fuzzy ball chair He also...

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In quilting class, we’re making balls; We cut and sew and stuff And stitch and stuff some more until The ball is firm enough. The pieces start as pentagons In fabrics that we choose, So all the projects look unique When we are sharing views. I’ve made one for each grandchild, For these quilted balls are fun, Which I proudly showed my husband Just as soon...

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What do you call them? I asked taking a peek. They each had an expression, and they were sleek. Bouncing at least six times for every throw down. These moon balls with smiles took away my frown. Who shall I give them too? I asked the joyful man. Give them to the children, and you may call me Stan. I passed...

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My balls smell like a crisp morning in the alpine suck them and you'll feel fine perhaps enjoying it more after we have a bottle of wine and dine They're smooth as eggs and they shine just made that way by god's design Once they're whipped out it's impossible to decline you'll be drooling at the mouth...

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so rounded so soft so salty so chewy. Their sweat falls right off as they swing with grace and flow. Oh great rounded ones you carry with an army...

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