Best Biles Poems


Usa Gymnastics Team

Simone Biles holds the World Championship,
gymnastics has always been her  t r u e  dream-
She GLOWS with beauty performing tough flips,
adored by her grace on the balance beam.

E l e g a n c e  revealed on the dancing floor,
each girl so delicate with their routines-
While the whole entire crowd demands for more,
they show superb effort as a WHOLE team.

DESTINY awoke with the “Final Five”,
group of girls chosen to come out on top-
For excellence did each one of them strive,
not once did their  d e t e r m i n a t i o n  stop.

The USA  g y m n a s t i c s  team won more
much earned gold medals than EVER before. 


Olympic Mania
Date Written: August 30, 2016

Like a Girl

I was playing catch in my backyard with my father
You were the boy across the street that didn’t know how to flirt
So you settled for a passive agressive ‘You throw like a girl!’
When the ball rolled to your feet.

My response? 
My response to you taking my gender and turning it into an insult?
Hating the color pink for the next six years
And trying to beat my brothers at football
For the record I won
And trying to prove to that idiot across the street I deserved
To be myself without feeling uncomfortable for my gender

The next year it was my brother
My own brother from the same womb
Two years older than him and still he told me I
“Climbed like a girl.”
And his green eyes flickered to precisely your shade of baby blue

Your stupid petty insult became the face of sexism 
Just last week when that idiot on the school steps
Though he had the right to tell me I had a nice body
In the most vulgar way he could
He had your face for a moment

I’ve always been a fool for boys with pretty hazel eyes
That smell like rain 
And last summer after months of giving my heart to that boy
He decided I deserved more so
Instead of trying to be more
He left. 

And his voice speaking those words? 
Yep. It was yours

Any boy who though leaving me was enough to
Crush my dreams 
Look again
You were never one of them.

Women are powerful
Women are beautiful
Women are influential
And women were once girls

So when you said I throw like a girl you’re telling me
I pitch like Jennie Finch 
With the intelligence of Michelle Obama and
The poise of Beyonce

When you said I climb like a girl you’re telling me
I climb like Ashima Shiraishi
With the strength of Serena Williams
And the balance of Simone Biles

So here’s my response to your petty one-sided insults;
Hell yeah I throw like a girl
Hell yeah I climb like a girl

Hell yes, I am a girl

Try to keep up.
© Iris Blade  Create an image from this poem.

When Dreams Met the Eiffel Tower

A dream for many a watch for some  
The Olympic journey, Here it comes!!  
It was in Paris, few days ago  
It rushed a shiver from the head to the toe.  

Flags carried through the Seine river  
The horse was galloping in the water, even the ring of the high jumper  
In the city of love, the flag was hoisted upside down  
And all witnessed by the mighty Eiffel Tower.  

Starting with the game of Pole Vault  
A game not known to many by default  
Mondo Duplantis broke the world record  
Not only was it the world’s but it was also his own record.  

Next is the pride of India, in shooting  
Manu Bhaker with double bronze, proving  
that doctor and engineer are not the only professions for a women.  
Creating history for India on many levels.  

Gymnastics is a sport that cannot be forgotten  
It was a display of skill and expression.  
Simon Biles and Jordan Chiles bow down to the gold medalist,  
Showing sportsmanship with a twist.  

It was time for the Pakistani athlete to prove his nation’s worth  
Arshad Nadeem with a throw of life or death  
Creating the new Olympics record in the world of Javelin  
Leaving the previous champion with a silver.  

For India the well-deserved gold was in question, Sports isn’t all colors  
The event of wrestling brought lot of tears  
Vinesh Phogat was into the finals  
But 100 grams put her back in spirals.  

The sport of badminton was not far off  
Lakshya Sen with a heartbreaking rip off  
Defeating many unexpected, to play the bronze medal match  
But placing 4th after almost creating history.  

The journey of many ends here  
Like Mutaz Barshim who had the gold near  
But, is satisfied being the bronze winner  
For he is the most decorated high jumper.  

The gold dreams of the Indian hockey team thrives  
But the journey of Sreejesh, the goalkeeper revives.  
The team walks away with bronze  
Not only making India proud but also the “state” of Kerala.  

A dream for many a watch for some  
The Olympic journey, Here it goes!!  
It shall last in memories for all, but  
it has now left a magnificent show.  

Aliya Nujum Navaz

I' Rise

Do you think the tickling of the second hand on a clock is in vein.
The disparity between you and i is dilated.
My impecuniousity does not mean am worthless.
You touchered me when i needed caring most .l'll rise
Snowy or drought.i'll rise
The tintinabulation of the blunderbuss shudders the vulnerable.
They plan to put me in an utopia.
Blood spilling like waterfalls.
Beating humans to resemble the slaughtering of sheeps.
Starvation seizing my hunger and luxury.
Weeping bitter biles of anger.
Sleeping with my mind frozen with thoughts.
Body full of pot holes and strips of blood.
Tears been dried by agony and pain.
The screaming of pain is echoed at last end of the earth.
The animal kingdom were very curious to know the vain of the scream.
Yet,the villain can not get any sense out.
Cos,the ossicles of their ear is broken.
Dilating from the villains act is to disintegrate their skull to get rid of the wickedness in there.
They invited an utopian to assist them on how to eliminate me.
Beating humans impeccably.
My xenophobic heart won't eradicate until the villain forfeit greatly and taste the bitter biles of their actions.
Their plan are to no aveal,cos the survivor will rise like the sun,grow like the trees and be known like stars.

And They Call Me Legion!?

The umbilical cord

Of surreals reality....

Mercilessly attached

To this shuddered room child

Inceptions twin, of the truly unwished for!?

Choked upon its arrival, incessantly

Into this third worlds realm

Destined, for pathos brain damaged

Behind these painted red doors

Of soon to be, delivered....

Atop this crumbling winding staircase, of woe!?

Bolted, inside the walls of biles chambers

Their manical screams resounding

Throughout the blood rooted bodings

Born, afore this portentously ominous plight....

Such as Poe's, "House of Usher"

This prevailing pervading phantom, of personified!?

Reflections of a shackled and gnashed life; trapped 

Beneath the flesh of a lost souls, solleret sublime

Subliminal subjectives hypnotized, by the twenty faces of

Icosahedrons lineage....

Mangled through the vines of conceived 

The begotten of the begets, concubine of death

Benedictions decree, of deliriums deliverer of these times!?

Portents passage, profoundly embedded within countless lives

And again like Poe, "all they loved, they loved alone"....

These morbid etchings of surreals reality, mercilessly attached

To the umbilical cord of another shuddered room child

Bolted inside, the prophetically red painted confines, of biles chambers

Broken glass and gushing wounds, as they screamed, among the tombs!?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And they call me, "Legion"....

Carrie's First Sin

Father, Father in Heaven
What kind of sin have I driven?
Why my friends let this happen?
Sorry, but for me, your gates won't open
I am so sorry but I am the new Eve
This town is my hell and none of them will leave
Rain, Holy rain, you won't wash away my pain
Not even this small sparkle making me insane
Fire, infernal fire, I feel my evil awakens
Father, for them your doors won't be opens
I can hear these fiends eating my soul
Will they still laugh when a sinner is my role?
No more chuckles, no more smiles
This school's stench is blood and biles
Isolation, spoken poison, lynching oration
Home prison, lamentation, whores of attention
All of them choked me with a bunch of lies
Making me believing in these cries
Finished, what's left of my cadaver will devour these flies
Chris, sweet Chris, will soon join your allies
Your mother told me beauty is all you gave
Let us see how deep she will admire your grave
Sadness and destruction are everything I see
Mama, Papa, why me?
Dad, Heavenly Father, I am so sorry, but I am the new Eve
This town is my only hell and none of them will live
© Loic Tran  Create an image from this poem.

Feelin' This Shame Without a Name -Part 3-

Just tell me (one more time)
Where is that paradise road
Tell me is it my lovely haven or my sweet, sweet abode 
I'm sick of your plastic love
Sick of your heartless smiles... 
Sick of sucking up your biles...
Somehow I know you still don't care about me...
You were heedless of my despondency 
There will be a time when I'll run away...from reality's demise
The truth will set you free...and, honey, there's no where to hide 
There's no hole to hop into... don't be afraid, little rabbit...
The light will shun out the darkness and reveal our true color...who will win the future prize? 
Embrace the silence...
Don't fence me in with your morbid luck
Embrace the silence...
Don't fence me in with your careless doubting 
I'm sick of your crying...
Sick of your lying
I won't listen to your lies
Sick of your voice...sick of your disease
Sick of your dreams and fantasies 
Sick of your love...it wears off on me
Sick of your existence... i wish I could live in pure ecstasy 
Tell me where is that paradise road
Tell me is it my heavenly haven or my sweet, sweet abode 
I'm sick of your plastic love
It's not enough x2...I seek love from up above
There will be a time when I'll escape from the corrupted world...and live another day without a single trace of fear
The truth will set you free...and, honey, there's no where to hide...
There's no hole to hop into...you snooze, you lose, little rabbit dear...
Don't let the night steer you away from the light
Embrace the silence,watch the sunrise with me, and we'll gaze at the small chicks as they take their first flight


~My song is dedicated to a song I love from Evanescence entitled Sick : - ). For the people who don't know Evanescence, look up her songs: Sick, My Heart is Broken, My Immortal, Hello, Lost in Paradise, Haunted, What You Want, Sweet Sacrifice, etc. xDD

Ideology Me Not Me

Unidentified my world
this push and shove battalion
take from them and leave them broken

Crassly ridiculed by viral industries
black blood automaton
the throwaway plagues of economy

Enemies arduous in pestilence promise
digital demons disposable to pay the fist
take from my brothers and leave my sisters bereft

Born to breath into not my world
the grit pitiful distance between unity
as miseries tourniquet mocks all of us belligerently

From innocent eyes to haunted heart
a misplaced paradigm of sentience
concocts for idiots the demons ideology

For a lifetime the world of not me
my rebellions soaked in propaganda
liberties plasticidal warrior
take my brothers
take my sisters
and suffocate their orchestra

And all the more the cruelty shall reap
the intoxications of biles inaction
and rejoice in the cursed ideology of demons

Unrecognized my world of human
compassions every degree shall embrace every soul
and with the quill of love a future transcribed 
by heavenly scribe in the ink of life
is written for our children

Premium Member Simone Biles

Celebrated American gymnast, Simone Biles 
Is ahead of her competition a fistful of miles 

The most decorated in Olympic medals, ever.
In hearts and minds of fans, she'll live forever.

Premium Member The Telephone Sleeps

death deepens with months
the passing sands by swath-sweep
the telephone sleeps
except for sibling-mourners
moaning for vocals from mom

dad shovels himself
out of his quiet mattress
aching with absence
half-alive, not dead
the one left behind

dirgelike rings of cell
mom won’t answer, but dad will
stir the stomach biles,
tighten the chest, dry the throat.
sadness listing old man’s boat

6/27/2021

Courtney Dyer

Courtney 
Daughter, mother, wife, poet 
Daughter of Brenda Horne, Teresa Fowler, Steve Horne, William Stakelin, Ronald Biles
Lover of psychology, classic movies and poetry
Who feels grateful, scared and depressed  
Who fears bugs, social situations and death 
Who would like to see Laura Ingalls Wilder museums, Paris and Japan
Who resides in Orlando, Florida 
Dyer

Reserata Carcerem Xxxiv

*Reserata Carcerem XXXIV*

Erstwhile, travelled a monk to heav'n -
that Holy Grail.
Borne on trance's wings - pride cloven.
Got he at 't gate:
And the angels all were silent.

Where pale Cynthia shed her order,
for its great wall
pukes rare radiance, beams and Jasper -
and the gate's tall:
And the angels all were silent.

Then his fingers, this marred monk wrapped
into knuckles
on the gate - cacophony clasped ;
his grit trembled:
And the angels all were silent.

Saw he wings in gay - sumptuous spree.
Its floor of gold.
His voice he raised and did quethe:
"Allow me in. Oh!":
And the angels all were silent.

"Why should I?" Waves of waters spoke.
He was not moved -
Knew he in what awe his Lord's robed.
"Why shouldn't you?":
And the angels all were silent.

"The biles of life I made my meal.
Awed no nuptials.
Apt azure rarely did I see,
for thy rituals.":
And the angels all were silent.

"Thy convent was my bosom friend.
Your book my zeal.
E'en for thy sake had I no fiend,
oft was my plea.":
And the angels all were silent.

"To sages'n'lord was I a plague.
Graces met gloom.
Yet yond this, torn ticker sin craved.
Why shouldn't you?":
And the angels all were silent.

Now moaning, marred monk quit his rhymes,
'waiting the sage.
'gain ROCK OF AGES quoth mid smile:
"Know you my name?"
And the moaning monk was silent.
       '20:07:04:09:05

Note:
 *An imitation of Walter C. Smith's "The Self-Exiled".

a) of moaning monk.
b) Written apace with Middle English lexis.
i) Erstwhile - Long ago
ii) Grit - Courage
iii) Quethe/quoth - Say/Said
iv) Oft - Often
v) Yond - Beyond
vi) Mid - (obsolete) With 
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences in the poem.
i) 't - it
ii) 'n' - and etc.

Olympic Pressure

Imagine being Katie or Naomi or Simone.
The world has expectations and it won’t leave you alone.
Your performances’ perfection has been touted and extolled,
So anything will be a loss if it won’t get the gold.

Well, pressure takes its toll and therefore, even with the buffers
Of team and coach support, sometimes a well-rehearsed act suffers.
Katie* gets the silver as the Aussie’s time is faster;
Naomi** loses to a Czech, a Japanese disaster.

And Simone***, the gymnast everyone believes to be the best
Leaves the competition early, feeling out of sorts and stressed.
It seems the build-up is too much and many athletes just
Cannot function when their hopes and dreams may suddenly combust.

*Katie Ledecky   **Naomi Osaka   ***Simone Biles

Premium Member Gymnast Extraordinaire

Simone Biles
International superstar
Most worthy of a world-wide 
Ovation
Never to be topped for
Excellence in accomplishment

Because she’s a gymnast par excellence
Incredibly talented
Long may she receive
Every recognition
She so richly deserves


written 5/24/2021

Wood

I don’t know which part of me
I have come to fear
but the clash bang of the hammer
resounds within my ear

All my enemies they beset me
and in the flicker of TV’s gaze
I can feel the cold chill whistling
breathing from a thousand unknown graves

Sweet mother please protect me
for I know not where to turn
all my door locks are ghastly bolted
against the coming storm

In every colour of black
and in every hue of red
every jihad burns my children
upon a refugees bed

So my pistols I have loaded
and I cower desperate in the night
the streets so full of murder
and everyone of them thinks their right

Father please stand by me
and hold my trembling hands
tell me the wolves are only nightmares
just news clippings of the fear

I don’t know which part of me
I have come to fear
but the clash bang of the hammer
resounds within my ear

I am assaulted by this hatred
and fed the biles despair
alone within this forest
breathing the frozen air

My eyes don’t find a pathway
for all a citadel of fencing wood
and the light between the trees
I would see it if I could

Sweet Jesus please don’t nail me
upon the solid beam
don’t wake the love within me
for all the suffering I have seen

Don’t show the face of torture
please leave the blindfold on my eyes
for I’d rather live here cowering
and be comforted by the lies

I refuse to see the pathway
and prefer the citadel of fencing wood
but the light between those trees
I would see it if I could

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