Best Billiards Poems
Her smile shed a glow,
her smirk shows her skill,
cutting on the curvature,
banking on the opponent,
dropping like a pro,
moving like a dancer
sculpted of sensual stone
smooth and flawless,
braids cascading down
emphasizing lushes lips of pink.
Tantalizing
dark eyes
drawing you in
stalling your game,
the epitome
of a full moon in a cloudless sky
at midnight,
the eloquence of natural beauty.
I went out to a bar one night
To have myself a beer
I went to a place I've never been before
So I knew nobody there
I watched two fellas shooting pool
And they looked like they were good
I asked them both, if I can play
And they said, "Boy, do you think you could"
When it was my turn to play
One of them handed me the cue
He asked me if I wanted to break
I said, "I don't mind if I do"
After I broke the rack of balls
The eight ball dropped right in
I beat his butt pretty fast
And I chalked me up a win
He said, "Boy that was luck
Can I play you one more time"
He was dropping all the quarters
So I really didn't mind
He racked the balls and he said to me
"Do you want to wage a bet?"
I told him to be careful;
"It's a bet you might regret"
He laid down a twenty-dollar note
And said to me, "Let's play"
I was feeling good and on my game
So I said, "Okay"
I broke the rack and hit them hard;
I gave those balls a ride
The eight ball rolled all around
Then it fell into the side
I didn't take his twenty-dollars
Even though I knew I won
I just had him buy me my next beer
And said, "Practice up there, son"
I have ADD.
Having... what I have's like playing billiards*!
I aim my thoughts
like a cue ball at a stripe**
and hit a solid** color...
It wipes me out! I forfeit my next shot!
My Critic-of-all-dreams does the thinking, then!
And THEN, it seems my friends all make their shots,
And I am left to rack up.
As they feel sorry for me, I am given the break shot,
first shot in the new game!
'Oo!' I think, 'a thought for every ball!' and it doesn't end well!
I fire off the shot, and nearly crack the lot,
And the cue ball leaps up and over the mess of billiard balls,
and OFF the TABLE!
My one friend is bald,
and as I pick the cue ball up, I imagine how much
His head looks like the cue ball, and it sets me laughing.
Unknown, my crime of thought is,
And he graciously grants me... another shot!
It is then, that I put on too much chalk, and send the white ball spinning
With a blue mark on one side going round and round
...and... this is how my thoughts go, sometimes!
A good thing, I am not playing for money!
________
*in this case, I am employing the American usage of 'Billiards', which includes 'Pocket Billiards', along with several other Cue Sports
**'Stripes and Solids' is a game in which one player tries to knock only the Striped Balls, while the other player tries to knock only the Solid-Colored Balls into any of the pockets. To hit, with the white cue ball, a ball of the other player's designation ('Striped' or 'Solid') is to forfeit one's next shot. A successful 'pocketing' of one's designated ball, adds a point, and allows the player to continue shooting, until he either misses, or strikes or 'pockets' another player's ball.
It was my turn and I ran the table
I was never known as incapable
Last was the 8 ball
I made a good call
And I double banked it is the fable.
Pool's Prince Charming
by Michael R. Burch
this is my tribute to the legendary pool shark "Saint Louie" Louie Roberts
Louie, Louie, Prince of Pool,
making all the ladies drool ...
Take the “nuts”? I'd be a fool!
Louie, Louie, Prince of Pool.
Louie, Louie, pretty as Elvis,
owner of (ahem) a similar pelvis ...
Compared to you, the books will shelve us.
Louie, Louie, pretty as Elvis.
Louie, Louie, fearless gambler,
ladies' man and constant rambler,
but such a sweet, loquacious ambler!
Louie, Louie, fearless gambler.
Louie, Louie, angelic, chthonic,
pool's charming hero, but tragic, Byronic,
winning the Open drinking gin and tonic?
Louie, Louie, angelic, chthonic.
NOTE: If you like my tribute you are welcome to share it, but please credit me as the author, which you can do by copying the title and subheading. I used poetic license about what Louie Roberts was or wasn't drinking at the 1981 U. S. Open Nine-Ball Championship. Was Louie drinking hard liquor as he came charging back through the losers' bracket to win the whole shebang? Or was he just pretending to drink for gamesmanship or some other reason? I honestly don't know. As for the word “chthonic,” it’s pronounced “thonic” and means “subterranean” or “of the underworld.” And the pool world at its worst can be very dark indeed, as Louie’s tragic demise suggests. But everyone who knew Louie seemed to like him, if not love him dearly, and many sharks have spoken of Louie in glowing terms, as a bringer of light to that underworld.
the ether, a billiard's table -
moon the cue ball, stars scattered balls
Place : Honorable Mention
Stardust Poetry Contest
Monoku poetry form only.
Sponsored by: JCB Brul
Date: 15-04-2023
"Neon Reverie in ABAB"
(A Folk-R&B Ode to Silicon Dreams)
[Verse 1]
In circuits’ glow, where neon sets the mood,
We dance like Moore’s, each beat a doubling tune.
Your binary hips sway in photon’s shroud,
A queen of code, with neural tresses crooned.
[Chorus]
Let the transistors hum, let the server drums ignite,
We’re wired to love, in megahertz light.
Your algorithms kiss, a quad-core delight,
A party of progress, spinning into night.
[Verse 2]
No clocks can slow the fire in our veins,
As qubits and GPUs toast to what’s ahead.
Your lips are lines of code, a smooth compile,
We’re rewriting the moon, with cosmic read.
[Chorus]
Let the transistors hum, let the server drums ignite,
We’re wired to love, in megahertz light.
Your algorithms kiss, a quad-core delight,
A party of progress, spinning into night.
[Bridge]
But when the silicon giants tremble,
And quantum storms whisper "This is the end,"
We’ll twist the clouds to velvet,
And daisy-chain our fire through parallel streams again.
[Verse 3]
Now Gordon’s ghost raises a sapphire glass,
To lovers in data, sweating on the floor.
Your fingertips map the stars in my address,
A soul in 3D, forevermore.
[Outro]
So let the dust of atoms kiss our crown,
The future’s a lover, dancing in and out.
With silicon whispers, we’re never alone now—
A hymn of love, where the machine and heart beat as one, hallelujah.
Style Notes:
R&B Soul Infusion: Smooth, sensuous verbs ("hips sway," "algorithms kiss") and synths mimicking a human heartbeat.
Folk Roots: Narratives of legacy ("Gordon’s ghost") and communal joy ("dancing on the floor").
ABAB Flow: Each quatrain tightens like a circuit—confident, rhythmic, with a wink to the "party" energy.
Sexual Metaphors: Tech as a lover ("lips are lines of code," "fingertips map the stars").
Blue-Eyed Soul Twist: Playful, velvety harmonies in the chorus for a retro-synthwave vibe.