Best Announcer Poems
you're a D.J
you're a preacher
a carer or
a teacher
you're a painter
you're a builder
you're a bouncer
or announcer
you're a chef!
you're a doctor
you're a dentist
you're a chemist
or a nurse!
you're a lawyer
you're a sales rep
or a vet!
all having your possesions
all having your professions
JACK OF ALL TRADES
you're chillingly funny
dramatically humorous
inspirators,patriots
historians,lovers of nature
dark poets,light poets
amazingly great
JACK OF ALL TRADES
verses flowing
stanzas moving
you're poets forming shapes!
i'm the reader!
you're the writer!
you're WILLIAM of my kind
SHAKESPEARE of my days
touching hearts ,feeding souls
for you i give my praise
JACK OF ALL TRADES
To all my souper friends
who blend the soup so well
-----------------------------------------lyours charma
11/17/16
He did not hit no home run, it was a grounder
How many cabinets or counters
Have some sort of white powder
Many meals cooked with flour
Familiar with the Two Towers
As well as Wario and Bowser
Head up, regardless of any times being dour
Nagivating around sharp objects that could be eye gougers
In certain waters, swim flounder
Certain individuals working as a bouncer
Or with web browsers
And many more, but I'm not going to name them all like an announcer
Some just want the money and power
She wanted exotic flowers
And a dog that was a schnauzer
Objects being restored and scoured
On a planet with unexplained mysteries and strange encounters
There is so much you can do in twenty four hours
See for yourself unless you want to be a doubter
This place by the ocean has some of the best chowder
Classic like "Wallace and Grommit in the wrong trousers"
Nocturnal hunters and night prowlers
Wolves are quite the growlers and howlers
By black holes matter being devoured
That which does not can ouster
I always like rain and thunder showers
Girl, of you I could not be prouder
I'll buy, now let's go get some sweet and sour
By: Dalton Ogletree
They didn't rush out to greet him
When Father time made his call...
They traded house and picket fence...
For one room down a long hall
like soldiers standing watch...
They take turns staring at the clock...
And wonder where the babies are....
They used to rock!
He said....It's Grand Central Station...
Every day, at breakfast call
Between the walkers and the wheelchairs!
She said.....Be glad that you can walk!
Silence streaks across the room...
And a hush falls on the hallway...
When the announcer says...bingo has...
Been cancelled... for today!
Oh! They're going with the flow
Like candles...when he wind begins to blow...
Two precious silver tears...
....in their golden years
They are going with the flow!
Close friends and family...
Don't come around much...anymore
So they comfort one another...
'Thought that what friends were for....
They pack up to go back home.....
About once a week it seems...
And the nurse softly smiles...
As she unpacks their things...
They are going.....
Going.......Goi
Patrick O’Flanagan’s covert shenanigans
Make people ask where he gets to at night
There’s a perception that Patrick O’Flanagan
Visits a door with a glowing red light
What people don’t know about Patrick O’Flanagan
Is he has only one goal
Each night at ten to ten, visits his gran again
She does a dance with a pole
Old Ma O’Flanagan dances for Stan and Ben
Over in County Kildare
The nurses and carers all turn a blind eye
As Stan sticks his pension ‘down there’
Pat’s her announcer, he's also her bouncer
He keeps them old fellas in check
Old Ben can get frisky and that’s a bit risky
Unless he desires a sore neck
These is the rules says Patrick O’Flanagan
That shrivelled todger of yours
Grandma will make that old thing come awake again
And you place hard cash down her drawers
But Ben said those wrinkles don’t pep up our winkles
We only watch her to rehearse
For what we might see on the CCTV
When you nip out back with that nurse
The lines on the field are painted a bright white.
I see the sun set slowly behind the goal post.
My eyes are blinded by the electric light.
At games we go all out and do the most.
I can hear the sizzle and pop of greasy concession stand food.
The crowd cheers from the stands.
From around the corner a little kid playing tag begins to cry,
And music is played from the band.
The quarterback passes the ball,
And the cheerleaders yell for him to go all the way.
While he is sprinting to the end zone we hope that he does not fall.
“And that is another touchdown” we hear the announcer say.
This is a Friday night football game.
Someday these boys could reach real fame.
It must have been around 1967, a Christmas that
feels like yesterday. Funny thing though, I don’t
remember unwrapping it, I don’t remember jumping
for joy, but I’m certain I did. With five children we
didn’t think of asking Santa for more than one gift.
Oh, there were always more gifts under the tree,
ones from our grandparents and of course mom
and dad. But that one, the one you wished for
was never knitted socks or mitts or anything
you wear, it was something special like
a toy or game. This one year the gift of all gifts
came to me. We always visited relatives and
good friends and I remember taking it with me.
I see it in my hands as I sat with my very own
transistor radio in the quiet corner listening to
the Boston Bruins playing hockey with my
hero number 4, Bobby Orr. I had a ten year old
girly crush on him and I was in heaven that night
every time the announcer said his name. Many
Christmases have come and gone since then, but
the memories of that radio with an antenna and
two turning knobs I will never forget.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
11.30.2014
Contest: Hush of Christmas Past
1st
Have you met, good old Grandma Goodie, Goodie,
With her gingerbread house of sweets emporium,
Tasty treats unwholesome to eat, but oh in pleasures
Indulgence, she corners the market, the bitter,
To the sweet, with her delicious confectionery delights.
Skip, skip along the forest path of the unknown
Trail, it’s the only way to find this elderly ladies,
Fabled cottage of gumdrops and Lully pops.
Crumbling bread crumbs did you leave behind, a mark to
Follow but the black birds did eat them, piece by tender piece.
So lost you became in the wilderness wild, that you feared never
To escape, from this evergreen forest of nightmares.
Oh brother's grim, did the futures outcome look bleak until you,
Spotted, good old grandma's goodie, goodies emporium sign.
Come in all little children, and dine.
As giant candy canes lined the walk ways
Entrance of honeycomb’s of flavor to savor.
It taw’s late the hour for which you arrived,
But this elderly dame entered with a heart felt
Welcomes deepest desire, come along child
Of man, whatever you most wish will appear by
Your sweet tooth’s command.
She’s just a sweet elderly gran after all,
What harm could there be in excepting her
Hospitality, beware, says the phrase do not
Take candy from strangers comes to mind!
Nibble, nibble on her gingerbread window sill,
And fast asleep shall thee fall, under a witches
Ungodly spell, incantations evil enchantress,
Hidden beneath a grannies disguise of lavender
And white lace.
But illusions fade with the light of day,
And darkness must shed their masks of deception,
Before striking at their intended prey.
Yet modern technology, rings the apps sounding
Bell, awakening me from this childhood story gone
Cannibal!
As I take a deep signs breathe of relief,
My clock radio goes off, and on it is a
Commercial break, advertising a candy shops
Grand opening, just then a chill runs right
Through me freezing my blood to the bone,
Come along the announcer speaks, to Grandma
Goodies emporium of delicious treats,
And I promise you won’t be disappointed
My dear friends and listeners.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
When I am looking at the end of the board, my world shrinks down to that one foot at the end of the board. My hands swing gently back and forth, and back again. My mind tries to focus letting all the noises from outside of it fade into the background. Because when is it truly ever quiet? The noise almost becomes something, calming, and normal, very reassuring.A song runs through my head keeping all the fragile bits of you together. Do the hurdle first. Is all I can think, do the hurdle then the dive. My arms swing forward once again, but this time you take my first step perfectly in time with the rhythm of my movement. I take a second step, covering ground, quickly, but not rushed. And then my third step, a powerful lunge that caries my other foot high as my arms rise to the celling I put all of my power into the final jump, landing squarely on the end of the board crouching down, letting my arms circle around, then reach towards the heights I wish to achieve and feeling the board spring me into the sky, where I hang suspended in time waiting the one precious second, letting myself reach my full height. Then I throw your arms down with the accumulated power and momentum that have been waiting for this very moment. I touch my toes as they touch the sky, the wind ruffles my already wet hair, and the feeling of flight has never been so close the world flashes past and I dimly realize that the celling has come around again, and it is time to extend. I am in full control as my body straightens and my toes point down to the water once again. This time though I am falling, not flying, yet it does not seem any worse. My arms stay close to my side and my body stays perfectly straight as my first toe touches the water, which then engulfs me. I sink slowly down staying straight, until my feet touch the bottom of the thirteen foot pool and I am once again pushing up towards the light. My head breaks the surface and it seems as if I catch up with time again. Somewhere an announcer is calling out the judges’ scores, but all I can notice in this bewildering moment is the smiles and congratulating high fives of the people I know the best, my team. I did it. I think, allowing a small moment of pride.I mingle and wait, counting the seconds, until I can fly again.
Counting imaginary sheep
Hoping to persuade my mind to sleep
Anxious and terrified to step on stage, tomorrow,
Its three am and I'm already searching for courage
Fast forward freeze frame,
My stomach feels like there's a butterfly on flames,
Sweaty palms and salty saliva,
Really wishing I was only the receiver
Not the deliverer,
My alias is called out by the announcer,
But I pretend to be someone else, call me the bouncer,
Piercing eyes in curious skulls loiter,
Searching for this petrified poetic potter,
My soul gathers its last ounces of bravery,
I grace the lime light like I am abolishing slavery,
Testimony, that was a lame first impression ,
So I dice my conscience to amuse your expectations,
For charmed by your gaze you are my inspiration,
Liberation, transformation listen to this elaboration,
Without you there wouldn't be this lyrical respiration,
For my words are transportation,
Your longing hearts are my destination,
I am a citizen and you are my nation
My nourishment when I'm facing starvation,
I'm out. Standing ovation!
Sean Green - a Met who wrote a book on Zen
Ike Davis - traded (damn it) to Pittsburgh
As an aging Met fan and a somewhat observant Jew
I take pride in
their accomplishments
Played a little while in the LL
A catcher!
I have also attended Mets games
at the old Shea Stadium
Where we held up signs saying
"Joan Payson is a prostitute"
I now see how the troubled days of my youth started
But even on the worst days I still had my copy of
Frank Waldman's "Bonus Pitcher"
and was able to hear the announcer say
"Put it in the books"!
"Toe Valley Tom will be right back!"
Cued the Mule Skinner Blues, as I finally took a break from my Bluegrass Show on WTOE, the radio station you could hear across the street--if you were lucky!
Its a very long story how I took a job as a DJ at a country station. Though, I will mercifully shorten this episode in my life!
drive through boulders
onto the slippery main road
spin out to station
I was recently married and had taken on the editorship of a small weekly newspaper. Well, it folded after a few months and desperate for a job, any work that I could find in the tiny mountain village near the Estatoe River to support wife and myself! (the county and namesake river were shortened to "Toe"--hence the name given to me)
WTOE hired me as a morning DJ and reporter after a short audition--also I was the only announcer who could read the news and be understood.
You would probably be shocked to learn how I detested country music! Sheer torture for yours personally who only liked classical and a little jazz! But, I could tolerate bluegrass, which was the only saving grace!
mournful music
caught myself singing along
immediately quit
A common-born child
was changed by the death
of a man one day.
Back in the 60's,
(I remember.)
when barefoot kids
were called in,
from carefree play.
A rowdy, raucous group,
(Tag, you're 'it' No! Tag,
I got you back.)
tumbling into the backdoor,
in answer to Momma's call.
I, being first inside,
pulled up short,
knowing something
just wasn't right.
The deep voice of a man
was blaring from the radio.
(No country songs playing
quietly while she worked.)
She hushed us sharply.
Then, I saw her face, palled
and drawn, having saucer eyes,
as when hot clouded coffee
is poured out to cool.
(I had never met her fear before.)
The words of the announcer echoed
across a hollow room,
“President John F Kennedy,
the thirty-fifth president
of the United States
died today...”
Even I the youngest, could catch
the significance of what we heard,
that somber day the country reeled.
(The punch in the gut struck me as well.)
On Friday, November 22, 1963
my innocence of childhood left,
and while standing barefoot
in a poor man's house,
I felt kinship with the world.
I heard the radio say we won’t make it
the announcer was quite sure of it
I’m fearing the sound of sirens
Welcoming the sound of detachment
From inside out
Outside in
From last nights drink to tomorrow nights sin
Dead on time isn’t my usual agenda, but neither was any of this
Showing up fashionably late fashionable
Helped ease the conversationalist
The man in the corner
Dirty wine glasses stack to the brim with sedatives
Someone help me
I wasn’t supposed to see the criteria
Somebody get me out of this fog
I can see a shadow holding a rose with comfort
Someone get me out of this fog
Five seconds before the crash
I was illustrating my demise
Speaking of you
Speaking of me
I’ve suffered worse fates in your eyes
Five seconds before the garden
I was watching your mother crow
Speaking of her
Speaking of him
From the thumping down below
This is it, this is the rest of our lives
This is what happens when you blink
This is the rest of our lives
"I shall be telling this with a sigh".
Robert Frost, 'The Road Less Travelled'.
Mommy,
Maybe I can't remember the moment I was born-
Even the moment the announcer blew his horn.
I will never know the moment I was conceived-
But there is one thing that I know and believe.
That I shall be telling this love story with a sigh-
Because you will forever be the apple of my eye.
You blessed me with a name when we met at birth-
Give me a kiss Mommy, you don't know it's worth.
When, I cried dear Mother, I wanted no one but you-
Your smell, your caress no one else would simply do.
You see you were there Mommy when I felt so alone-
You hugged me, kissed me, even tried to atone.
For the ones that hurt me pierced my young heart-
Sealed it with a kiss you said we would never part.
There were even times that I didn't wish to live-
Kissed me, held my hand said I have so much to give.
Give me a kiss Mommy, for I'll forever need that touch-
That once healed my heart, oh how I love you so much.
I shed a tear for each of my needs you've met-
I can't do enough for you but I shall never forget.
Give me a kiss Mommy please let me reminisce-
Of a love so pure , please Mommy give me a kiss.
Valerie Sherman
Give me a Kiss Mommy
10/5/2011
The Horse Race.
The announcer says the horse is at the gate.
There is wee willy on your just silly;
Patty shes riding cupcake bite.
Dick hes on hiccup.
The gate open and they are off. It's dick on hiccup, cup cake and wee willy on just
silly.
As the get to turn one it's willy on just silly,Dick has hiccup at second and patty
riding third with cupcake.
In turn two it's just silly,hiccup and cupcake. Turn four its cupcake,hick just silly
And now at the wire you got hiccup just silly and cupcake.
People we have to stop the race. Wee Willy on just silly ate patty cupcake which
gave him the hiccups