Best Cue Poems
If I’d picked up a snooker cue, when I picked up a pen;
and then gone on to build a break of eight or nine or ten.
If I had only listened more to those who understand;
who told me not to play the game by using just one hand.
If I’d just watched Big Break much more, instead of writing
rhyme;
and studied Foulds and Knowles instead of Byron all the time.
If I’d just gone and bought more chalk, and even used a tip,
upon my cue, then thought perhaps to practice just a bit.
If I had researched Virgo’s words instead of Wilfred Owen;
and written many papers on ‘Where’s The cue ball going?’
If I had only listened more to whispering Ted Lowe
instead of sometimes listening to Pam Ayres in full flow.
If I had studied Parrot’s wit and Alex Higgins flair.
instead of Larkin, Betjeman, Wordsworth or John Clare.
If only I’d heard Snooker Loopy played a little more,
instead of writing verses that sometimes never rhyme!
If I had just stayed up all night to watch the grinder ‘Cliff’,
and not penned many rewrites of Kipling’s poem ‘If!’
If I’d just seen the final frame in Nineteen Eighty Five,
and had a longer tape cassette which didn’t then rewind.
If I’d thought of a funky name like Jimmy ‘Whirlwind’
White,
or ‘Scarface’ or ‘The Rocket’, one which would excite.
If I had done these things I’ve said, then yes I’m sure, I
know it.
I would have been a snooker star, and not an unknown
poet!
(Based on Rudyard Kipling’s poem ‘If’)
To be recogonised...
Doesn't mean you are the best
...Now it should be clear.
For you yet to win..
Mustn't stop you from dreaming
...belief in yourself.
A surprise anniversary gift,
Caused giggles, which gave me such a lift,
If I was a nun,
I sure could have fun,
A cucumber .. if you get my drift!
My lovely friend Chris gave me a bag with some chocolates and a card and carefully wrapped in white tissue paper was a 9 inch cucumber which her husband had grown - it certainly made me giggle!
06/22/20
There we sat, a sunny afternoon
The barbie lit, not quite enough flame
Her father fans it, wife tries to explain
Happy families. Two language game
I’ve nothing in common, forgotten their name.
I let myself go, release my sarcastic mood
We’re all inane smiles personified polite
He’s waving at the barbie dust on the food
My wife hangs on to her rage a soaring kite
Mother and son know not the time to be rude
Daughter-in-law’s parents, peasants afar
My stepson, squirming, cursing his luck
New allies for her, from now on life will suck
Mum kisses his head, he’s her pride and joy
His life’s anonymous, she cuddles her boy.
Look up to the sky
take a look at the boldness of the sun
behold the brightness of the stars
they hold no grudges
they come, they shine
for you, for me:
caucasian, black or orientals
Look up at the sky
See the beauty of the moon
it illuminates prison as well palace
they no know boundary nor landmark
hear the rhytm of the rains
it beats the ghetto and the golden city
see its water flows
linking the mosques and the churches
they hold no sentiments nor bias
then look at yourself
and I myself
and together ourselves
and take a cue from
the ancients of days.
A dark. unfathomed emptiness
swirls and coalesces
on the stage of my desire,
demanding nothing sired of need
or advocate, and of itself complete.
Yet I may own the unexpected certainty
and find that it is known
without a thought,
through just shy glances
as one moves inside the self.
It is an unpretentious wisdom, free
to fly upon the cliff winds,
turning toward the sea again,
above the crumbling decades
with their votive candles burning still,
above the shouts of triumph
just beyond the tomb, and yes,
more sacred in its wordless legacy
than that enscrolled
from any prophet pen.
At length, It was the little man
inside the prompter's box
who shook his head, and said
to watch your little universe go by
for still another dallying spring.
It isn't yet the denouement,
not yet your time to sing.
~
I never dreamt
Mathematics once a terror
I’ve ever learnt
From my life would delete a major error
As I struggled to make sense
Out of the labyrinth
Mathematics built from the nonsense
The terror in silly stealth
Conveyed in minds
That by dint of patience and perseverance
Gleaned from underneath concepts, processes and procedure behind blinds
Rewarded in a walk punctuated by persistence and insistence
To spawn understanding
Continually growing in incremental steps
To facilitate a commanding
Assimilation not through biceps or triceps
But through pen and paper dedicated practice
Through sweat and tears
Carving justice
Clearing all the fears
Mathematics once held
In my brain and in my attitude
Until with misconceptions withheld
Along grew fortitude and soared my latitude
Prompting the belief
That you, too
Could cut out the mischief
That claims you’ve got no Mathematics clue.
Cue To Persevere
I recognized you today,
As little girl waved at me
From behind a glass pane
As she passed by
Her sister waved at me too.
I saw you in the moon,
With its silvery glow tonight.
Your power is majestic.
You gaiety of spirit was
Brimming with as much joy
As wine would ever make one.
Yet just a tiny drop of your power
Is enough to fuel the entire
Planet with you source of joy.
Your wave at me and your moonlit wink,
Gives me hope and tells me to persevere.
For you’ve got everything under
The Pool Shark
Double or nothing
I go for the gold.
I meet with the devil
and sell him my soul.
Content with the knowledge
I will win it all.
I let him guide me
to the pool hall table.
Dressed in my white suit
with Panama hat.
I stand with my cue
and watch my sucker rack.
As I line up my shot
I hear bets exchanged.
Their values are spoken
with a varying range.
With a gleam in my eye
I strike the cue ball
And watch as my shot
caused the three ball to fall.
I pump my fist in glee
for I called the side pocket
In the ball shot like a
red fiery rocket.
My skills went down hill
and I lost all my cash.
The rest of my game
had gone into the trash.
As I slunk out the door
Old Scratch was waiting for me.
Your soul is mine now
he said with great glee.
As we walked off to hades
that burn with fierce fire.
I sadly learned to deal with the devil
I should never have believed that crafty old liar.
Just noticed for the very first time
My hair line is definitely receding
My crowning glory, my silvery dome
My time here is short I'm conceding
If I ever wind up as Mr. Cue Ball Man
It'll be time to close up shop
Basically it'll be over, over and done
No incentive without my silvery crop
May sound vain, a wee bit conceded
But with this mug that I possess
Really need these charming adornments
Need all the help I can get
To impress the ladies, my hair was it
Running fingers through my silvery locks
They murmured tender sweet love words
Offering me all that they've got
Dream on dear fellow, you sound delusional
It's the total package that's the thing
With or without your silvery locks
As long as you've still got that zing
© Jack Ellison 2013
On cue
God his purpose is elusive
What is actually his role?
In our lives and in our planning
What good is worship as a whole?
Don’t we long for independence?
Why would this start up a fuss?
Why should we give God the power
To decide what’s right for us?
We don’t want to be directed
Why wait for his sign and cue?
We could use him as co-pilot…?
That’s the least that we can do
Mind you, we will give the orders
We’ll do exactly as we feel
And when it gets a little tricky
We might scream ’Jesus take the wheel!’
This doesn’t mean that we are cowards
No, it means we have a choice
For in a fair collaboration
Every partner has a voice
Equal say and equal privilege
And we claim it, it’s our right
But we want God to be ready
To find a cure for every plight
Until then, he should be quiet
He should utter not a word
We’ll appreciate his presence
Even more if he’s not heard
As we brazenly continue
See us veer and see us swerve
As our silenced fellow traveler
Waits for his cue to come and serve.
Wendy Nipas
This is my favourite time of day,
Morning, as day starts anew.
The darkness turns to lighter grey
Which soon dispels to brilliant blue.
Birds start singing, as if on cue.
The pool shark was right on cue
When hitting the eight ball he knew
It was right corner pocket
Bounced like a rocket
Around and around, then it flew
Is this war
Is this life?
Is it the core?
Is this what we came for?
More and more:
Pain and sorrow,
A journey and a hard knock
Life coined: the dual forces
Of reality, from steady grounds to earth quakes...
Strange clouds to fogs,
Man its cold when hit The bottom!
Blues and oceans flows
Sharks so scary, and whales
Those giants but swimming
All the way up, from feeling numb
To counting numbers
And they infinite...
Like the number 8, twisted vertically
Not that you have to be twisted
But you gotta let go!
Not very good at going on cue,
But I will do it just for you.