Best Champ Poems
He's a champ
Forget about the tiny size
of his body - you wonder how
he'll hold a ball flashing
like a comet.
He's a champ
Forget about the empty benches
that are blankly staring back at him.
He's a champ
Forget about the absent
parents who are not with him,
to see his tiny steps to Hall of Fame.
He's a champ,
and will always be a champ.
Oil Painting #4
By: Teddy Kimathi
Date: 20/11/2015
Hooked bout
Knockout
Contest: One Footle Only
Nov 1, 2017
GIRL OF PARIS AT CHAMP DE MARS
Beneath the girds of steel, rising to the sky;
where tourists go to watch the world go by;
the children come to play, and lovers walk
through myriads of life and idle talk,
this is the Champ de Mars where Paris goes
to show that side of life that only Paris shows,
with donkey rides and jugglers all for fun
where you'll forget a love, or meet someone
A troubadour will sing her memory
so you'll forget tomorrow has to be,
and people watching is the thing in style,
each painted face, each heartbreak, every smile.
Where madamoiselle forgets what she must wear
throws caution to the wind, lets down her hair
an orange blouse, and skin tight yellow hose,
she shows the world someone it never knows.
She's looking for that locking of her eyes
and touching of her heart, as time it flies,
and someone she has known, but never met,
the first kiss of her life she'll not forget.
And Paris knows, yes Paris knows what's real
the love she comes to know and love and feel
it never will leave her, as time goes by
and she will think on it, many times, and cry.
© RON Wilson Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
At ten years old he was a Monopoly champ
But it wasn’t because he went to a game playing camp
It was because for months he was confided to his bed
With a game ending tumor inside of his head
The game board was always spread open on his lap
He found all the streets on an Atlantic City map
He wanted to see the Boardwalk, he said, in real life
And ride up and down it on a rented red bike
He would play the game with imaginary friends
Moving all of the pieces until the game ends
He could calculate mortgages in a matter of minutes
Playing by the rules without any limits
He memorized every card in the Chance deck
Knowing he had no chance of his own
He dreamt every night of taking a ride on the Reading
And having it deliver him home
The Monopoly game was packed up neatly
And placed in the coffin with him
Now he plays with the angels in heaven
And probably always will win
Rain shouldn't keep me from feeling fine,
I'd drive to City Field by five...
to watch tall Peter
cheering for Jeter...
a champ nurtured by manly pride.
.
Boulder shoulders, bursting biceps,
terrifying to see.
A menacing mountain of a man,
well, he used to be.
He would brutally barrel through each
frightened, fleeing foe.
Many feared him so, although that
was long, long ago.
Now, from beneath the bony, bushy
brows of his frayed face,
He casts a ghostly gaze at his veins,
I.V. needles in place.
His shrunken, skeletal frame sinks
stolid in the stretcher.
His skin, the tinge and touch of the
back of a peeled wallpaper.
Here he must wait and wilt away
the weeks till the end arrives.
Behind this nursing home's closed doors
hide closing and closed lives!
I did something that most kids consider hard.
I got all straight A’s on my report card.
I hit the books and go to class without fear.
Let me tell you, there is no smarter kid around here.
I know my grammar like anyone should.
I have this friend. He don’t talk too good.
He did not do nothing at all in school.
Now he has to repeat the year. That ain’t too cool.
There is one subject that makes my mind tick.
Most people have trouble with it, it’s arithmetic.
Some of my classmates can’t even add and subtract.
I know that six and six are thirteen, that’s a fact.
I am the best student that goes to my school.
Fall, winter, and spring, I am the one to rule.
Take it from me, there is nobody higher.
I beat up another kid because he called me a liar.
Athlete of international stature
Boxer Manny Pacquaio gives blows along generous gesture
Champ of the people with humble beginnings’ posture
Driven toward victory of faith-venture.
Empowered by God, he testifies of his Christian culture
Fortified through Bible principles’ feature
Gracious provisions he shares in his blessings’ pasture
Helping charity works from his foundation expenditure.
Imparting Gospel truth by his influential celebrity nature
Justice he fights, complementing his senatorial puncture
Keeping his stand on issues clear according to the Scripture
Learning well while leading toward lawful legislature.
Might and mercy he blends midst righteous fights’ torture
Nourishing citizens with goodness and well-being’s nurture
Optimizing public official’s role since his bad vices’ departure
Persistent to present a good name* beyond branded signature.
*Proverbs 22:1 A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold.
September 7, 2019
2nd place, "MY UPCOMING BIRTHDAY (09-03) CELEBRITY-Any Form" Premier Poetry Contest; Sponsored by William Kekaula; judged on 9/17/2019.
even if its yellowing years in the slowly settling dust
have dimmed much of its previous, glorious lustre,
which, in times olden,
must have been
golden,
still like a proud monarch standing akimbo,
it haughtily proclaims to the noonday sun that it still is
the much coveted prize,
the blinding
obsession
for which the young, hot-blooded multitude caught
in the hysteria of campus contests fought and cheated,
booed and cheered, shrieked and
wept, won and
lost;
now quietly it leans on a heap of rubbish in the rubble
of the old gym - - the 5-foot "Overall Champion"
trophy, a relic of a sports
season long
forgotten.
Courageous
Holy
Attitude!
Master of self
Positive
Inclusive
Open
Normal to self
Jeter Derek: the legendary champ
led the Yankees to a sensational victory,
defeating the Phillies
at City Field in the 2009 World Series!
And the crowds revelled
from their stands;
and he waved his hand,
and smiled proudly,
holding and cradling the championship trophy...
driving all the ladies wild!
Jeter Derek made history
by planning a clincing game,
over the opponents to break Lou Gehrig's record...
and all the thrill glowing on his face,
was also a thrill of mine!
Boulder shoulders,
bursting biceps,
terrifying to see,
a menacing mountain
of a muscle-man
he used to be.
Now, bedridden,
he wilts away his days
till the end arrives.
This nursing home's
locked doors hide
closing and closed lives.
Good
Grief
Expunges
Relief
If you are not a Love Thief
And lack self Belief
Luck
Faith
Belief
Positivity
Change
Progress
And God willing
At the break come early Dawn
Yee shall awaken Re-Born
Like a New-Born
With renewed hope in your heart
Eternally grateful and thankful
For a Second Chance
A shot at Redemption
To Dispel the common Bar Room Myth
You wasted your Natural Potential
Because you lacked both the Character and Mettle
To become a True Contender
That Fan's never got the Opportunity to Remember
The Guttersnipes have enough people to hate on
Let these verses be rather an inspirational Poem
Show em what your made of Champ
If not for them
But so that the new young pretenders
Who wish to walk a mile in your shoes
Take heed of your mistakes
And what makes or breaks
A Shot at the Title
Not you thought you were entitled too
But you were willing to put your life on the line for
And whether you have it or not ?
The Rest is then up to you my Son
Through Rounds
1 to 10
And then and only then
It will be up to fate to decide
What you get out versus what you put in
And if you are no longer a Boy
A Man have become my Son
God Speed the very best of Luck
And remember if you are to come unstuck
If you give everything you have to give
And are found wanting
So long as afterwards you can look yourself in the mirror
Then even if you Lost
You can still be declared
Ultimately the Winner
If you fought from the Heart
GIRL AT CHAMP DE MARS
Beneath the girds of steel, rising to the sky;
where tourists go to watch the world go by;
the children come to play, and lovers walk
through myriads of life and idle talk,
this is the Champ de Mars where Paris goes
to show that side of life that only Paris knows,
with donkey rides and jugglers all for fun
where you'll forget a love, or meet someone.
A troubadour will sing her memory
so you'll forget tomorrow has to be,
and people watching is the thing in style,
each painted face, each heartbreak, every smile.
Where madamoiselle forgets what she must wear
throws caution to the wind, lets down her hair,
an orange blouse, and skin tight yellow hose,
she shows the world someone it never knows.
She's looking for that locking of her eyes
and touching of her heart, as the time flies,
and someone she has known, but never met,
the first kiss of her life she'll not forget.
And Paris knows, yes Paris knows what's real
the love she comes to know and love and feel
it never will leave her, as time goes by
and she will think on it, many times, and cry.
she's a fighter, she's been fighting all her life; she's fought off those boys that just want to
get in her pants. she's fought off the people who said she didn't have a chance. she was
going to be somebody and that was a fact. see she's destined to be the worlds champ. she
had plans to go head to head with layla ali. but then reality hit her way under the belt. she
never gave up she kept fightin' and fightin'. but she went soft on 'em kid, and he kept coming
strong. first and second round you know who it was all about. but it must have caught up
cause third round it knocked her out. he hit her with something she couldn't beat. he beat the
worlds champ, he figures he got it made. because the champ was just given aids. she can
fight all she want, she can swing left and she can swing right. but the truth of the matter is
the champ got beat tonight.