Best Basketball Poems | Poetry
Below are the all-time best Basketball poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of basketball poems written by PoetrySoup members
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by Ellison, Jack
Basketball creator James Naismith
by Lee Sr., James Edward
by Vitale, Mario
by Hunter, Daniel
by Lee Sr., James Edward
Basketball By Dawn
by Asuncion, Bernard F.
by harper, logan
by Tidd, Jim
by Anish, Matthew
by Parsons, Brianna
View all new Basketball Poems
The Best Basketball Poems
A fresh sweet scent
of last gardenia
on yesterday's linen sheets
A cherry bud
in your backyard orchard
revealing first pink shades
in once upon a soft blown kiss
An early summer
sharing your beach towel
and coconut butter
A roaring log fire
on a stormy night
in the hallway
to your bedroom door
a short~lived star
that fallen into your arms
then faded to nothingness
upon the empty shore.
Remember me ...
The blissful moment
The saddest song
in your forevermore
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014
In the courts of sport and entertainment
They have forgotten the scales of justice
Lacking honor for those who gave life and limb
Sacrificing blood, and buried with god giving grace
The anthem is our history
of all triumphs, good, and even flaws
Look into the eyes of a veteran
to see inside a suffering vault
They, who fought, so that you may play
They who died, so that the rich live this day
Even the poor still have their freedoms
For veterans themselves, knew their reasons
No man, no nation can stand up to perfection
Its about respect of those, who gave...
Despite all imperfections
Without, history repeats, sending more to the cross and knave
When you hear "God Bless America"
Think of those flag covered graves
Think of the children
No fathers, because it is you they saved
Our nation is human
Filled with imperfections
Protest for change, for better days
While holding respect for those, who before you
With their blood, led the way
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017
It's not a sport
It's a lifestyle
No one understands
What it means to play it
Not for the money
Not for the fame
But the love for the game
Not a sport
It's a lifestyle
Copyright © Brian Jinanwa | Year Posted 2015
Rub a dub dub two in a tub.
Where did the soap go?
He lay back flat
Right on his back.
While she fiddled about below.
Rub a dub dub I fell in the tub.
I swear to you Lassie it's not always a stub.
The water is cold.
I'm getting old.
Come a little closer and give it a rub.
Jeanie and Timmy alone in the tub.
Sounds like a poem which might need a scrub.
I cannot say s*x.
Not sure about pecs.
H**l, the censors might just overdub.
Rub a dub dub, there's three in a tub.
Sure hope one doesn't give it a rub.
The lassie is fine.
She has two to shine.
Rub a dub dub four in a swingers tub.
Girls raised their glass, boys the stilettos subs.
Full of champagne and olives.
Pond koi had other motives.
Oh la la,, that's not the knob it's my club!
Copyright © JEAN MURRAY | Year Posted 2017
Telling blacks not to come to a basketball game.
That is such a racist remark and a shame.
Making such a comment is an absurdity.
In the professional basketball community,
African-Americans make up the great majority.
Those words said were a public disgrace.
Everywhere in any professional sports place,
room should be made for any color and race.
from a news story found on aol.com
Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2014
While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012
Being the shortest in my high school gym class
Attempts to play basketball brought no success
Broke my finger while trying to catch a pass
Leaping to take balls from tall girls? What a mess!
Always loved football, baseball and soccer too
But in basketball I succumbed to defeat
Just couldn’t get into it, that is true
Till Dad took me to see the Miami Heat
Startled he was, watching me jump up and down
Although my enthusiasm was contrived
The cheers of other fans my loud voice did drown
This was the last time I saw my Dad alive
I’m so thankful now that I went to that game
Dad was so grateful for these moments we shared
When I watch basketball now, it’s not the same
It was Dad and not the sport for which I cared
*Entry for Deb’s “Play Ball” contest
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
The world welcomes a newborn baby boy.
To the mother and father, he is a bundle of joy.
Right now of course, he is so small.
It won't be long before he is big and tall.
As a defensive lineman, he will hone his attack.
The boy will have no trouble sacking the quarterback.
He will control the boards, slam dunk, and grab every rebound.
I'm sure a sports superstar will be found.
Inspired by another member's poem
Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2014
People make me smile the way
their eyes shine when they talk
about something they love
when they feed me food. Or tell
me how much they love me
when I look into someone's
eyes and see it I see that look
in their eyes I see love in them
When I see someone laugh and
have fun in what they do
The way they cry for there lost
When they give me a smile and
tell me how beautiful I am
People are beautiful well some
are and I wish someday I can
find someone who will look at
me and say "you have that look
in your eye" what look?
I want to find someone so
beautiful in the inside I can't
stay away they amaze me with
what they say an do how they
will dance in the rain and know
every detail about me
Will bring me Starbucks on a
rainy day and just talk about
I want someone beautiful
Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013
So… during basketball season… our manager, Anna,
would sit by me on the bench.
I told her about Nana drawing with charcoals.
I told her about how I wanted to buy her charcoals
so she would draw again.
I told Anna about how Nana won’t draw anymore
because she used to draw…
when Papa was sick.
(I was telling Anna all of this because she likes to draw
and mentioned she likes charcoals the best)……..
All that being said…
Anna gave me the most beautiful charcoal drawing
of a basketball on a wooden floor.
It is framed and really big.
You can tell that she put time into it
and really wanted it to be pretty.
When I opened it in class today,
I was so surprised……
and told her it was beautiful.
She smiled at me and said,
“I drew that because of the story you told
me about your grandma.”
I bawled like a little kid.
Just that the story would influence her, and
inspire her to draw that for me.
It is awesome.
I had forgotten that we even talked about drawing…….
That story meant something to her.
And that is why people teach.
Copyright © Ray Dillard | Year Posted 2010
This gray Apple Mac,
is it true that i use it,
or does it use me?
Copyright © Jackson LaBaugh | Year Posted 2016
I have wasted
too many years
of my young life
wishing I had been
a different story.
I am learning
that all life
and that each soul
that walks this earth,
is a mere breath,
a simple expression,
of the interwoven
fabric of our universe.
We are each
a ripple in time,
and our aura
that travels faster
than the speed of light.
We are divine beings.
When we possess
the edge of certainty,
and begin to understand
that we hold the key
to our everlasting divinity.
Copyright © Steffan Voss | Year Posted 2017
Tell me, if I was to be gone tomorrow,
Would I really be missed at all?
Who would know my time I borrow?
Not knowing when it is I will fall?
Things to think, when time isn't guaranteed.
If my children would be alright or fine?
I know life goes on it does proceed!
But is it wrong, for me to want a life line?
But no one can help, you know there is none.
Those sworn to protect , can't give you hope.
First an act against me must be done!
Broken system with such a slippery slope!
Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2017
In Romans 5 it says God loved us and He sent His only Son to die on the cross for us. In fact the bible even tells us something stronger here. In verse 10, “When we were enemies of God”, when we were separated from God. Doing things that were disobedient to God. God extended His love towards us. That’s what we call unconditional love. We need to practice in our life this kind of love in our life. That’s a tremendous life principle we need. For most of the time when you hear parents bringing up children or a loved one talking, you could hear that their love is conditional. A parent will tell the children if you do good then I will love you. That’s not God’s love. We do not want them to do bad but they must know that if they did badly we don’t approve of the evil that they do. But we still love them. That would have been totally different. So God’s love is unconditional. There is nothing that you could earn that love because He does not ask for any condition. He loves us because of who He is. The bible declares that God is love. His love comes from the depths of His very being. It is dependant upon His nature and not upon the one receiving. Human love is dependant upon the one receiving. If we were able to renew our mind and let our love grow to the level of God’s love, we would be able to far more things than we have been able to do because of His nature, because of His being that love that He has inside wants to be expressed. You could give without loving but you cannot love without giving.
PLEASE REPLY TO MY EMAIL AT DJWELLS97@YAHOO.COM
Copyright © Jerry Wells | Year Posted 2017
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…
They are the magic 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.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
State Championship on the line.
Today I have been shooting just fine.
When I got the ball I yowled.
“The defender on me has just fouled”.
Two free throws just for me.
Will I make them? We will see.
The first one bounces up and in.
Just one more and we will win.
I shoot the ball and get it done.
I can’t believe that we just won!
Copyright © Nikolas Fantocone | Year Posted 2013
Basketball stands for war or battle.
That's why I think about the players'
personalities, in my foxhole or squad.
Danny and Ben are fast and smart. Dan
especially can pass making him master
and commander. To defeat them as we did
is very satisfying. Ben's five year old son
is intelligent but distant. Disdains to answer
my question Why are you you?
But I'm not here
to catalogue the men's personalities.
I like them. But each of us has moved on
many times, when _______ suddenly died
the games went on with hardly a mention
and his name has since been forgotten.
But even this, absolute mortality
of not just our bodies but our names
and souls is not what I came
to talk about. Yesterday, between games,
I asked Joe how Molly his daughter likes
the high school. He mounted an impassioned
defense of reading as the indispensable skill
when I suggested math, the scientific method
and history are essential too.
Also between games
Bob diffidently asked why my kids are bald.
I was moved by the care he took to satisfy
his curiosity, concerned the subject might be
difficult. He's a political science teacher so
I took the opportunity to ask What ails
the republic? Of course I answered myself
wanting mostly to hear myself talk about Iraq
and how empire is self-correcting. For once I was amusing
I thought, treating the subject with a light touch
But none of this is what I came to say.
A new guy, very big and strong, a
bulldozer under the boards with a good
outside shot if needed got into a dispute
with the other Bob who likes to tell people
what to do sometimes, about an offensive
foul Bob called which we almost never do.
The new guy said If you can't take it don't
play under the boards which is what I say
when I'm pissed and don't give a ****.
Bob said You've been pushing and shoving me
all day. I said He doesn't want to be
pushed and shoved which got a wry
smile out of Danny as I put the ball in play.
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015
Here I am trying to string some coherent thoughts into a prose in writing…
When there is this sudden continuous thumping noise behind where I am seating…
Oh no! That can only mean one thing, my little girl is into her basketball dribbling...
In this limited space of the living room, her boundless energy needs venting…
Ever since the local junior basketball competition has started, I wish we live on the moon…
When the whim strikes, it’s Michael Jordan incessant dribbling about in the living room…
Only the emptiness of space around the moon can silence the sounds of these staccato booms…
NASA or whatever relevant space agency, book me quickly, if possible, beam me to the moon..
Yeah, I know better, our cajolings and pleas for quiet in this living room is a waste of saliva…
This feminine version of Michael Jordan in my living room is in one of her breakaways runs afire…
Look out! Control that ball, you almost bump poor Nemo in his cute fish bowl off that table…
Where’s your mother, what do I have to do to get a little peace in this time of the day altogether…
Little girl, if you don’t mind, I’m trying to finish this little poem of mine to post on-line…
I have my readers and fans, they’re just like yours, hoping to see the best I can offer each time…
Yeah I know, your fans and supporters, they are cheering you on too, I see the picture…
But little angel of mine, please put away that blasted ball , how about something else to consider …
Let me finish up this shortened prose, post it up online and then I will bother you no longer…
After that, it would be better that I quickly retire to the master bedroom, silence there is pre ordered…
Tell me again, when is your last game, for all this thumping through the week is giving me heartburns…
Do you have to bounce that ball indoors, that noisy din will one fine day bring on angry neighbours…
Better you do something not so noisy, say, clean Nemo’s tank - it looks rather dirty to me….
What? You’ve clean it twice already in this week, are you very sure of that? How about money?..
Would you like to have some change and maybe you can grab a soda outside, it is one fine weather..
Fervently I dare hope, my little Michael Jordan, do go and pick up your many dolls, where’s Barbie..?
Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015
As you can see,
This game is between you and
I try to shoot,
But I realize that I'm wearing
Where are my sneakers?
Wait, they're in my lockers.
I tie my shoe laces tight,
With a smile that's shining
I'm running to the hoop,
Trying to shoot.
I'm winning this game,
The crowd are screaming my
I finally success,
This game is the BEST!!!
Copyright © Lena Zheng | Year Posted 2014
'Shorty', they called him from the very first grade in school.
He was seldom chosen for any game as a general rule.
He'd reached his maximum height of five feet six as a teen.
Though small in stature, athletic prowess lay dormant, yet unseen!
He tried out for baseball, football, even the basketball team.
Just to be a member of a team was his fervent dream.
Apprehensive coaches agreed to give the eager lad a chance.
Perhaps he could warm the bench - his ego it might enhance!
He was the third-string running back on the football team.
During the championship game the others ran out of steam
The score was tied - ten seconds remained upon the the clock.
He scored the winning touchdown! That day 'Shorty' became a jock!
The state final basketball game is still talked about today.
All the star players fouled out, much to the coach's dismay!
The score was tied - 'Shorty' was sent in with seconds to go.
He was fouled but with steady nerve, his was the winning throw!
He gave his all when called upon and was accustomed to the jeers,
But accolades were showered upon him by his coaches, fans and peers!
His coaches learned that 'tis best never to judge a feller by his size!
He might just be the winner who brings home the coveted prize!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 3 in Paula Swanson's "Meeting Expectations" Contest - Feb 2011
Placed No. 6 in Debbie Guzzi's "Play Ball" Contest - August 2011
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2011
When the big game is over
And all's said and done
Your left with yourself
A team is now one
You question and question
Could I have done more
Will I have another chance to play
Just one more
That decision young players
Is now in your hands
For its time to grow stronger
And turn into men
Remember one thing
Before you close the door
Your talent won't leave you
It can be molded into more
A player at next level,
A coach, or a mentor
Its all in your hands
Like the ball but remember
Don't question could I've done more
Keep looking forward
There are many doors.
Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2015
There is another March Madness
and it also happens every year,
there are shouts, cheers, and a tear...
I wonder if you can make a guess?
The fans - they dress in all sorts of wild gear,
and there are office bets placed all around;
the brackets are made and are NCAA bound
and no Madness is the same from year to year.
Can you guess what this thing I rhyme is all about,
or are you like some who really don't care?
But watch and you'll see some amazing air
for basketball fans - March Madness carries real clout.
Now I know this isn't about the blues,
but I wasn't in the mood to make you sad,
so I wrote this piece, I hope you're glad...
the March Madness cure - Basketball shoes!
Copyright © George Aul | Year Posted 2011
Hyperbole is a sports cast
Announcers have egos so vast
My ears must have rest
From this lambasting pest
Collection of morons amassed
Author's note: Is it getting worse, or is it just me?
Copyright © Duke Beaufort | Year Posted 2013
My knees were the things that
kept me up and my skin is my
cutting board my eyes are the
rain clouds to the fire running
down my arms and my heart is
the fire place that keeps me
burning so calm
Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013
When you lose a big, important game,
you feel like the world has turned on you,
like it is your fault,
you feel down,
and wonder why this had to happen,
were you ready?
Instead of thinking about what you did wrong,
and focusing on that it was your fault,
think about what YOU could do better,
how things could have turned around
And maybe, just maybe those things will come true.
Copyright © Tiffany Denger | Year Posted 2015