Best Basketballs Poems
Baby bears bounce basketballs, but not before playing blind mans bluff.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Sept.29/2004
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
Have been since joining P-Soup
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 it's 250 gigabyte 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
© Jack Ellison 2013
I've got footballs.I've got basketballs.I've got baseballs.
And now, they're showing my balls on ESPN.
But the smallest balls I've ever seen?
Were golf balls.
Ping Pong balls were even smaller.
Would you like to join me, for a game of table tennis?
Because! I've got balls..
I've got red balls.I've got white balls.I've got blue balls.
And now, they're playing The Star Spangled Banner.
But the biggest balls I've ever seen?
Were elephant balls.
How many balls does it take to reach the moon?
One! But it's got to be a big one.
One big ball..
I'm going down to the ball room right now, and have a ball.
Would you like to join me?
We'll have a real good time.
Because! I've got balls..
Humorous Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2002,2014..
ALL rights reserved..
In hushed whispers, Mariners told stories,
Of a octopus like cephalopod creature;
With a tentacled beak and jet thrust power,
A creature as long as a school bus.
Scientists dismissed all this as just myth,
But they did admit that there may be;
Giant creatures roaming the dark, deep oceans,
However in 2007 one was netted.
The New Zealand trawler San Aspiring,
Fishing in the Ross Sea of Antarctica;
Netted something, 34 feet long, 1000 pounds,
A giant monster, it was a colossal squid.
But more amazing was that this female,
Was considered a comparative midget;
Colossal Squids can grown to 46 feet long,
They are the largest creatures on Earth.
Having the biggest eyes of any other animal,
The size of basketballs with huge pupils;
Also, it is said that they are highly aggressive,
Even attacking predators like Sperm Whales.
Gouges and battle scars on whales, unexplained,
The gigantic female, in a lab somewhere, frozen.
______________________
August 21, 2015
Verse
For the contest, Giant Animals
Honorable Mention
< Betty Boop bought boyfriend Bimbo some basketballs to bounce
But being blind her boyfriend Bimbo bounced Betty Boop
Boy Betty Boop did boldly bounce bad
This Little Lady Is After My Own Heart
For No matter What She Does Wrong
Her Eyes Seem To Capture The One She Loves LOL
And Also One Of My Favorite Cartoons
I
Hear the bouncing of the balls--
Basketballs!
What a sound of merriment they cause when each ball falls!
How they echo, echo, echo,
Inside the gymnasium walls,
Arriving at a crescendo
While the spectators shout “Bravo!”
Drowning the referee’s calls;
And the players start
To make their last dart
Amidst the reverberation ricocheting off the stalls
From the balls, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls--
From the bouncing and the dribbling of the balls.
II
Hear the ticking of the balls,
Ping-pong balls!
What a soft and easy sound comes from their bounce and rolls!
In the crowded room that’s bright
How they fill it with delight!
Like the ticking of a clock,
Steady but fast,
Or the picking of a lock,
What tune they make with their ceaseless tick-tock,
Until at last--
Oh, what a miss that appalls
The audience that has remained speechless in the halls
How it falls!
How it scrolls!
And the erring player rolls
His fists at his own pitfalls
By the swinging and his missing
To hit the balls, balls, balls
The balls, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls--
To hit the light and small and saffron ping-pong balls!
III
Hear the loud thud of the balls--
Volleyballs!
What feeling of suspense is caused by their great falls!
Across the nets stretched tight
How they gracefully take flight!
The watchers anticipating,
Who would win they keep waiting,
Breathlessly.
Until the umpire from his platform blows a long shrill whistle,
And the balls drop on the ground like useless heads of missile.
Then tempers start to bristle
In the air there is a rustle
From both player and spectator
To win the set or never
Hold the trophy covetously.
Oh, the balls, balls, balls--
"Pick them up!" the umpire bawls.
Once again
The balls are hit, tossed, and passed
And the game goes on full blast
While the players on each side dare not complain
Yet the audience fully knows
By the spiking
And the digging
How the game would sooner close.
Who would be covered in palls
Suffer beating,
‘Cause of losing,
And forced to receive catcalls
For dismally failing to score and keep afloat the balls,
The volleyballs--
The volleyballs, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls--
In the scrambling and the spiking of the balls!
March 18, 2023
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
YeeHaw! We are about to be entertained with America's favorite sport!
No, it ain't football, baseball or basketballs bouncin' on the court.
Nor is it soccer, wrestlin', NASCAR racin' or tennis whereof I speak.
Nae! 'Tis the inane antics of politicians we'll watch as our votes they seek!
With bated breath we'll watch debates where buckets o' mud they'll sling,
Babblin' on and on about big schemes that in the end don't mean a thing!
They'll promise us anything, anything they think we ought to hear,
Includin' a rooster in every pot, more welfare and free pilsner beer!
We'll receive tons of useless stuff this election year in our mail slot,
Touting stellar records - no way to believe whether it's true or not!
People will be bangin' on our doors and buggin' us on the phone,
All pleadin' for our votes - all I'm pleadin' for is to be left alone!
We'll see Oberman and Matthews from the left spewin' venom,
And Limbaugh, O'Reilly and Beck from the right goin' after 'em!
There'll be vacuous panels on cable news includin' contradictions.
Self-appointed prognosticators will charm us with their wild predictions!
Politicians promise never to raise our taxes lookin' us dead in the eye.
We've heard that one too often - they'll increase them bye and bye!
I suppose we'll have to abide the hoopla and circus atmosphere.
After all, there are few other sports to entertain us at this time of year!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
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
Compared with us, the kids today
Too little play and too much weigh.
Alone indoors they snack and sit
And buttons hit, while we stayed fit.
We'd quickly chores and homework do,
Then dash through doors to fun pursue,
To basketballs and arrows shoot,
To jump with ropes, and footballs boot.
We'd earthworms dig for fishing bait,
On scooters glide, and roller skate.
We'd hopscotch, seesaw, chase. and swing
And boomerangs and frisbees fling.
We'd tackle, dribble, leap, and throw.
We'd tunnel through and shovel snow.
In haystacks dive and wagons ride,
On ice and into bases slide.
We'd whittle wood and baskets weave
And pennies pitch and horseshoes heave.
We'd yank the strings so tops would spin,
When wrestling, try to shoulders pin.
We'd kindling fetch and firewood chop,
Inflate balloons to later pop,
Sink numbered balls in billiard halls,
And topple pins with bowling balls.
We'd weekly swim at downtown Y,
Our kites and model airplanes fly,
We'd darts and putts and marbles aim,
With lens or flint set twigs aflame.
We'd sneak beneath the sideshow tents,
Climb ropes and poles and chain link fence.
We'd hike and camp with scouting troops,
Rotate our hips in hula hoops.
We garden weeded, hosed, and tilled,
We'd soap box car and treehouse build,
At picnics joined the tug-of-war,
And barefoot romp when rain would pour.
We raced on stilts and pogo sticks,
Made pies of mud, our pets taught tricks,
Were paper, pin, and altar boys,
Ignored complaints of too much noise.
For caddie tips, we'd golf bags lug;
To jukebox records, jitterbug.
We'd carpets beat, played kick-the-can,
Collected rocks, and errands ran.
To school and back on foot we tread,
Down steepest hills and alleys sled,
Played pitch-and-catch in yard with Dad,
Pushed mower that no motor had.
We'd rake the leaves and chestnuts crack
And toddlers carry piggyback.
With feather pillows fight in bed,
Our cap guns fire, and fall down dead.
We'd wildly flail at punching bag
And batted balls and passes snag.
We'd zig and zag, avoiding tag,
Till tuckered out, we'd homeward drag.
No trophies or applause we'd get.
Our play was real, not internet.
To kids today, I this advise:
Get off your butts and exercise!
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
Spent some time
in the country
Forest full of trees,
lakes full of fish
Deer walking by
as hawks hover overhead
Contemplating nature
has its rewards
But now it is time
to return to the metropolis
Crowded streets,
people rushing by
Skyscrapers stand tall
in the summer air
Taxis whizz by
as bicyclists weave in and out of traffic
Beautifully dressed women
and elegant men
dot the urban landscape
In the playground kids play handball
and bounce basketballs
I have returned to the asphalt homeland
where I belong!
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.
My Missing Muse
I have tried to write as of late,
but my mind has become a true blank slate.
My keyboard is bored and my ideas are bland.
I have to think of something grand.
Lately I lack poetic thought, thus I’m feeling quite distraught.
Maybe new themes will come to mind, if I read some antique poems of mine.
I have written about nature,
birds like ducks,
a child’s marker freckles,
a coffee cup.
A retired boat resting on the shore,
dirty socks behind a door.
I’ve penned 2 poems about Monet and VanGogh.
Now Degas? I don’t know.
Lady Di who danced in her royal gown,
but sadly now listens to angel sounds.
Her love for people was always increasing, but my poetic thoughts,now decreasing.
A teapot and a tuffet, diddle diddle dee.
A sweet little bundle came to me.
Blueberries grow on a bush not a tree!
Still no ideas will come to me.
Two tired tulips on my windowsill doze.
Three ladybugs on a daffodil pose.
Now is the time I need to compose!
A chorus frog’s peeping has a dancing beat,
clicking,
croaking,
repeat.
Jumping rope in heels, the teacher who tried her best.
Feathered fledglings sleeping in a Blue Egg mommy’s nest.
There is a wee granny in my apple tree.
Bring your appetite, then you’ll see!
Trees dressed in acorns
Protect our seas
Echoing owls between forest trees.
No new ideas coming into my head ?
My muse is hiding, I dread.
Cronkite,a reporting wiz,
closed the news, “That’s the way it is”
An unbiased journalist one could trust.
Integrity, sincerity and principles, a must.
TV shows,
Winter fairies on tiptoes.
Still I have the blank slate woes!
A path of moonlight, dragonflies.
Slowly summer says goodbye.
Soon the southern birds will fly.
Smell the season sunshine.
Crowds that cheer, “Alley Oop”
As basketballs find their longed for hoops.
Aunt Gloria was warm in her Irish blue.
Little boy Benjamin lost his little shoe!
His sister found it, "PEE U”
“Hooray” I cheer. Now it seems more clear, I feel my blank slate might disappear.
I’m suddenly feeling passion for more creative action!
Imagination,inspiration,determination!
My mental blankness is washing away.
New topics to write about, coming into play.
Now upside down silly fun.
To the writing teeter totter Marikate, have fun!
I love to sit on it,
And ride without a saddle.
It’s stronger than a stallion.
Riding it makes me sweat all over,
Especially down under in my Australia.
I curse often about how my down under
Feels when I bounce and pounce on the dark horse.
The owner often grunts, curses, calls me names,
And forces me to ride harder with no remorse.
I love such torture.
I love to feel it slide as I glide sloppily,
On the dark horse that belongs to my daddy.
My boobs bounce like basketballs
While I lie on top sideways or sit up so tall.
Daddy sucks and bites my morsels
While he dunks my rear,
Up and down,
Like an Oreo in milk,
On the horse you know.
I never want to get off,
Because it gets me off.
Having that strength poking me,
Feels heavenly.
I love to feel it slide as I glide sloppily,
On the dark horse that belongs to my daddy.