One, two, three, four
Hardwood seeds planted on the floor
Trying to get to the final round
Championship bound
Who is your pick?
Cavs or Knicks
Garden parties are always filled with fame
WKRP broadcasted CBS’s Street manipulated game
Late night tape delayed
News wondered if Vietnam POWs completed the trade
Newly launched ESPN, soon took charge
Captaining the NBA barge
Cruising a hoop dream
Love Boat holiday network floated up stream
While Peacock’s spurs shine
Thundering, shaking the western spine
Enjoying an entertaining time
That cannot be declined
Or denied
Since the audience will find
Two winners survive
Not saying their seasonal goodbyes
Wanting to extend
And defend
The scoring message they send
Larry O’Brien’s trophy is for the best
Acknowledging acing basketballs premier climatic spring test
‘We are the champions’ winners will sing
Sporting awarded new flashy rings
Say senora to the winter blues
And welcome summer leagues with air condition that is cool
THE BEACH
sand between your toes
sun tanners' bath on the beach
swimmers in the sea
THE PLAYGROUND
children on the swings
chasing dogs- after squirrels
chalk made- hopscotch
FISHING
fisherman casting
fly-fishing for rainbow trout
frying pans await
ENTERTAINMENT
concerts in the park
country fairs and carnivals
camping 'neath the stars
SPORTS
basketballs bouncing
baseballs being hit and caught
balloonists in air
SUMMER
spring has departed
sun showers in the forecast
summertime rainbows
Feet
Basketballs
Jaundice, his words lost
A victim of cirrhosis
Gone
Written By: D. Collins 5/9/24
A triple-knee crack and a hip not ready to move.
Are signs an OG (old guy) should hand over his tools.
Don't push it to the limit trying to throw a football.
And, definitely refrain from shooting basketballs.
Watch your ass in the snow when walking the dog.
A wind-blown leaf could land you in E.R.
Don't get me wrong I really like being here.
It shows the durability of my wear and tear.
We may crack and pop every now and again.
It comes with the props of older echelon.
Somehow throughout it all, we are still upright.
Trying to pass on to Young'uns the last stage of life.
“Baby, win me a prize at the county fair.”
The smell of funnel cake mingles with the metallic scent of rickety rides. The smoke billowing in the air accents my chills but I still want to be stuck with you at the top of the ferris wheel; It’s trick or treat season, candy is permitted. Sugar highs and sticky lips facing mundane fears; Adrenaline masked by the risk of falling, talking masked by intense screaming, did I give in again? Water gun balloon races, basketballs, and too tall to carry stuffed animals. They all have a feeling of time sensitive anxiety. Bulls and hogs with blue ribbons spooking. Is it a masked ticket vendor or someone stalking the next line breaker?
Beaten horror house,
fiery tilt a whirl spinning;
Wild small town Samhain.
Kicking and hitting used to be unusual in a classroom.
In many classrooms it is same-oh-same-oh these days.
Icy screams that raise hair on your neck are becoming normal.
Sadly, parents are not in school to see what is happening.
They would be horrified at the behaviors we tolerate.
“You are not in trouble” is our mantra, but they should be.
Worse, out-of-control behaviors are worth a reward.
An out of control student can get a “break”.
They get to throw basketballs or kick a soccer ball.
Here is a five-dollar gift card if you do not tear up your classroom.
Schools are backwards now- rewarding bad behaviors, not good ones.
This is the reason so many teachers are leaving this profession.
First basketballs were discarded peach baskets
With their full bottoms in them
Soccer balls were used
Officials had this dubious job
Had to climb a ladder to remove the ball
After each basket
Figured a woman with a laundry basket
With a big hole in the bottom
Was the first one to think of tearing the bottom out of peach baskets
Hard balls, soft balls
Hiding on the loft balls
Red balls, white balls
Feeling feather light balls
Big balls, small balls
Hitting on the wall balls
Golf balls, tennis balls
Plastic table tennis balls
Baseballs, cricket balls
Bowling out the wicket balls
Basketballs, footballs
Throwing those shot-put balls
Dull balls, shining balls
Exercise reclining balls
Rubber balls, hockey balls
Snooker balls, sticky balls
Volley balls, beach balls
Jumping out of reach balls
Handballs, throwballs,
Playing with the snowballs
Rugby balls, yo-yo balls
In the darkness glow balls
Sweet balls, meat balls
Getting ready to eat balls
Glass balls, round balls
Find them all around balls
08.04.2021
For Natasha L Scragg's "The Marmite Poem" contest
It’s empty now -
No matter how.
Blank windows stare,
Stripped and bare.
No step upon the dusty stair,
No one to care.
The only sound
Wind moaning ‘round
The crumbling eaves
All choked with leaves.
The rooms bereft -
No corner left
That’s home to dolls
Or basketballs.
Was it sheer
Misfortune here
That played a part
And stole its heart?
Bosom best-buddy Beta Beta Beta boys begin bonding by bringing before biennial brunches:
bouncier basketballs
budget bean burritos
bounteous beefy burgers
beautiful broad-minded busty boyfriend-less babes
better bottled Bavarian/Belgian beers
The Desk
by Michael R. Burch
for Jeremy
There is a child I used to know
who sat, perhaps, at this same desk
where you sit now, and made a mess
of things sometimes. I wonder how
he learned at all ...
He saw T-Rexes down the hall
and dreamed of trains and cars and wrecks.
He dribbled phantom basketballs,
shot spitwads at his schoolmates’ necks.
He played with pasty Elmer’s glue
(and sometimes got the glue on you!).
He earned the nickname “teacher’s PEST.”
His mother had to come to school
because he broke the golden rule.
He dreaded each and every test.
But something happened in the fall?
he grew up big and straight and tall,
and now his desk is far too small;
so you can have it.
One thing, though?
one swirling autumn, one bright snow,
one gooey tube of Elmer’s glue ...
and you’ll outgrow this old desk, too.
Originally published by TALESetc
Keywords/Tags: Child, Children, Childhood, School, Desk, Student, Scholar, Teacher, Teacher's Pet, Pest, Golden Rule, Spitwads, Glue, Basketball, Nonsense, Light Verse, Humor
Faerie Assertive Woman living in a mushroom house,
Was painting cat murals on her pink living room walls.
What she saw creeping past was a timid full-bellied mouse.
F.A.W. invited him to throw basketballs.
Manny Mouse was soon playing horse, and eating spaghetti.
They laughed at similar stories until they had tears.
Their friendship they celebrated with purple confetti.
A relationship that has withstood the last twenty-six years.
Made quite an impression, it seems
On the chair, I've been glued to so long
The indentation is an exact replica
Of my rear, hmmm, sounds like a song
Me bum and me chair are going steady
Only leave when I have to go poop
Methinks maybe atrophy is setting in
So I think I'll shoot some hoops
It's surely a result of this computer age
Our bodies will soon have no use
Our heads will be the size of basketballs
But our bodies will be an excuse
Excuse to hold up our 100-pound heads
With its gigabytes of storage space
We'll actually need some kind of device
Or we'll continue to fall on our face
Made quite an impression, it surely seems
On the chair, I've been glued to so long
Thinks I'll go for a ride in my old jalopy
An old Dodge I bought for a song
Why do we feel the way we do, about the government sworn to protect and serve?
Sure we pay taxes, but is that too much to ask?
When we can walk on our streets, day and night,
and return home safely.
What if we were born elsewhere, not in the USA?
Instead of basketballs the neighborhood kids may carry AK-47's.
Instead of school colors, proudly worn, there may be explosive vests concealed beneath.
Instead of high school teachers showing them the way,
they hear the siren's call of a better afterlife, and money for their families,
If only they do what their elders say.
Do we really ever want that here?
Can't pay enough, or be thankful enough, to the agents who put their lives on the line everyday.
After all, don't their hearts beat just like ours, don't they have families and children, who want to do the right thing, if free to pursue their dreams?
Not trapped by the system they were born into, with little hope of escape.
White cotton balled Q-tips;
Orangey yellowed fuzzy basketballs;
Purple covered lemon balls, lemon heads;
Melted down into the carpet;
Once a highway in the skies;
Home is where the heart is now;
Wrong-way Jones is left way out;
Salamander Samuel eating raw trout;
Carpet stained by Shout;
Pre-teen agers learning to make out (What!)
Melody played by a museum;
Gases arranged by Albert Texan;
Opera souring panes;
Wrong-way Jones spilled his lemonade;
What's all this walking in this room about. . .
Carpet stained by Shout;
written by James Edward Lee Sr.
March 18 2014
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