Best Discus Poems | Poetry
Below are the all-time best Discus poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of discus poems written by PoetrySoup members
Search for Discus poems, articles about Discus poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Discus poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.
See Also:
New Discus Poems
Don't stop! The most popular and best Discus poems are below this new poems list.
View all new Discus Poems
The Best Discus Poems
Details |
Discus Poem
|
We had just got married - was the month of June
This is the saga of our disastrous honeymoon
We started off in a hotel in Norwich
The bedding was itchy just like doing ‘porridge’
Back home to Birmingham to get ready for our cruise
To the Norwegian Fjords - stunning scenery to peruse
I had already started to get a horrid cold
My sneezing was totally uncontrolled
We arrived in Norway and I was feeling ill
The fjords were smooth no need for sea sickness pill
I started to brighten as we began the cruise
Hubby and me together we had nothing to loose
Enjoying the scenery and the fresh cold air
Watching the waterfalls oh how we did stare
We arrived at the first hotel and got ready for the night
We were on honeymoon and wanted everything right
Climbing the stairs to our hotel room
Separate beds – you could sense the doom
Well we got over that hurdle… details I won’t discus!
But when we saw the tour guide oh how we did cuss
Next day we got onto our honeymoon boat
Enjoying the experience whilst we were afloat
On to another hotel as part of the tour
Separate beds yet again – oh what a bore!
Every hotel we stayed at we had separate beds
Hardly ideal scenario for a pair of newly weds!
Finally it was time for us to go our journey back home
One more meal at the hotel – oh how time had flown
Disaster struck – it could only happen to me
I got food poisoning I was as sick as a flea
Firing from both ends it was absolute hell
My honeymoon disaster – oh I remember it well!
A pretty accurate description of our honeymoon in June 1991…
but despite everything that went wrong we are still together!
04~24~15
Contest: Memorable Vacation – Shadow Hamilton
~awarded 2nd place~
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
Details |
Discus Poem
|
The winged god Zephyrus, handsome and graceful
gently flapped his wings, gliding across the meadows.
His eyes fell on naked youths splashing at play
in the sparkling water of a deep wide pool, sheltered
by willow trees, where fragrant flowers bloomed.
He slowed his flight and looked with lust and admiration.
On the green grass he espied a tender youth;
athletic and beautiful was this young Spartan prince,
scantily dressed, playing his flute with nimble touch.
Zephyrus’ heart fluttered and leapt; he could not help
falling deeply in love with beautiful Hyacinth.
Little did he know that he was already being
courted by Apollo! Out of sight he lay in wait
then made his move and sought him out at sunset.
He approached him and with golden words he tried
to tempt his heart, but all in vain. Though impressed,
Hyacinth remained firm and faithful to Apollo.
That night, Zephyrus many restless hours spent
alone, ignoring Chloris’s sexual charms.
Entangled thoughts engulfed his frenzied mind,
jealousy clawed at his heart, tore deep within.
Dawn arrived, and bleary eyed he hastened forth
towards the hills, in search of calm respite.
Alas, it was not meant to be; envy reared its head
with poisoned fangs that sent him reeling mad.
Emotions changed from red to green, and in despair
he flew high up, aimlessly circling in the sky.
Then all at once, upon a verdant field below,
he caught sight of Hyacinth and Apollo
playfully engaged in discus throwing.
The green-eyed monster lunged and with swift intent
Zephyrus blew a gust of wind that swerved the discus
from its route and it hit Hyacinth on the head
resulting in instant death. Jealousy prevailed.
Furious yet heartbroken, Apollo held Hyacinth
tightly in his arms, blood dripping from his temple;
and with one last act of love he changed that blood
into a most beautiful flower called Hyacinth.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Contest: Epic Only
Sponsor: Skat A
Placed 3rd
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Yellow Butterflyfish and Snakeskin Discus
swim freely in this life I call an aquarium-
I see a Purple Regal Tang as the Pufferfish
sang with a melody like a sweet guitar strum.
Blue and pink coral, like a make-believe floral
stand strong and tall in the salt-watered tank-
The lemon green Laurel streams along so eternal
as the Orange Angelfish swim along the bank.
A Red-Tailed Crab and a slimy Snail like to grab
food sprinkled from the main aquarium caretaker-
Instead of eating scraps they find a lily pad
to rest and continue being nosey spectators.
Is this just a dream? Is my life not as it seems?
Cuz’ when I look around along the ground
my human reflection is all I unbelievably see-
This life that I have found, I just sit here profound
gazing at the amazing life of salt water beauty.
Oh no! I see a Reef Shark and I start to embark
on my way towards the side of the glass-
I find relief in the belief that he may depart
since he comes from a breed of a docile class.
Rainbow Sea Stars you can see from afar
with hues like a pink and yellow sunset-
What a lovely sight! I can’t forget the spark
of her glowing romantic shaded silhouette.
A Painted Turtle guy who caught my fascination
wandering in front of me slower than a snail-
A super fertile Ray lays her eggs with illumination
as the Foxface Rabbitfish flips her yellow tail.
Living in a tank of salt is obviously my true calling,
even though I always wanted to be a veterinarian-
My true wish is to live with fish,
for in water there is no falling-
Floating, swimming, kicking with a swish,
I love my life in a beautiful aquarium.
Theme: Life In An Aquarium
February 15, 2017
Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2017
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Led to believe
you'd help me achieve
the grace of a ballerina
a voice operatic
from my usual asthmatic
cackle like a laughing hyena
Distaste despite
I endured your bite
the party with gusto to steer
true state of affairs
via video fare:
drunk, I'm a weirdo, witless and queer
Alone on my porch bench
abhorring my stench
I sit with my head on the pound
in hangover's claws
I glare at the cause:
scores of bottles strewn all around
"I'll drink no more
on wine declare war
as of now I'm calling you quits
thief of humanity
my reason for insanity
'cos of you my life's in the pits."
A-cuss and a-curse
I pick up the first:
"Say hello to the wall of the park
sing your last aria
afore I smash yer!!"
as with a discus fling a wide arc
"Nice tinkle I reckon."
bend for a second:
"You fiend, I'll smash you to bits
you dug me a hole
my life to control
stole the bigger chunk of my wit."
Tinkle-smash-tinkle
my eyes a-twinkle:
"Down with alcohol, scourge of society
to drink is absurd."
smashing a third
"You monster, you stole my sobriety."
"Whoa! Whoa! This one is weighty
unlike your mateys
with you I've never had quibble
in fairness to you
you'll lift my blues
for my woe I don't hold you responsible."
DELYSIA. FOR GIORGIO'S CONTEST.
INSPIRED BY:
"Dear alcohol, We had a deal where you would make me funnier,
smarter, and a better dancer. I saw the video. We need to talk..."
- Anonymous
Copyright © delysia hendricks | Year Posted 2013
Details |
Discus Poem
|
SENIORS OLYMPICS
Images of fearsomely fit youth everywhere,
healthy people, all bronzed, featured
by the second, on screens and public spaces :
fit and flash, but always young, Olympians.
I protest, for we seniors are just as sporty;
we recycle daily, suffer running noses;
fallen archery’s no problem at all - well, it is -
as we routinely wrestle with living.
Best not to even mention water sports.
Weightlifting self out of armchair is hourly,
when diving for the loo, as is rowing back
from much too easily expressed criticism.
We ping pong daily with potions and pills.
Sailing close to the wind, shooting mouth off,
leads to embarrassed synchronized grinning.
Annoy us and you will get a right kayaking.
Much of our lives consists of sundry hurdles;
shops are like a cross-country marathon,
or a steeplechase broken into relays,
bench to leaned-on wall, to bench again.
And, we’ve all done pent- and heptathlon,
with the dec- coming in to (or out of) focus,
we need not discus these ageist Olympics,
I have hammered my point enough ....
Alan McAlpine Douglas
Copyright © Alan Douglas | Year Posted 2012
Details |
Discus Poem
|
I remember, I remember my garden of joy,
It gave me great happiness when I was a boy
At the bottom of the garden was a delightful stream,
When alone, I would sit beside it, meditate and dream.
In the garden stood an ancient apple tree,
In the spring time its coloured buds were a joy to see.
In the autumn the russet apples were harvested in,
Our neighbours also enjoy surplus apples from our bin.
At summertime my two friends would come in and play cricket,
Game stopped when the batsman knocked the ball into the thicket.
On summer evenings Mum or Dad read us a story in the eventide,
Other children came in, lemonade and biscuits mum did provide.
Subject to weather mum packed a picnic on a Sunday afternoon,
To meet the local villagers, to gossip, farmers sold their eggs, that was a boon The villagers would meet, discus each others fortune, on the village green, There all the local gossip everyone could tell or glean.
The young ones played football, cricket or handball,
The girls often beat the boys, that did not go down well.
Some times in the evening Dad would take me down to listen to the local band, Some music I did not like, some I thought was grand.
I left home at twenty one to work in the city,
My little village is now a small town, what a pity.
I have photo’s to remind me of my happy past,
With an expanding world villages like mine will never last.
Copyright © Terry Godwin | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
I comprehend the days when rays do shine and Ra does set
When inner soul and façade connect, 24 hours in one day gave me breathe, that’s 1,440
seconds closer to death rather than oxygen left. Aspire to build that dream shape that
atmosphere, win a Nobel peace prize, become Man of the Year
Build homes in the smog inner city ghettoes, where blocks and countenance of lost souls
decay and rust, maybe spread poetry and love as well as a monumental philanthropist,
raise seeds that spread, root, bud fruit, then trees, then yield juice to saturate the Earth
with only sweet organic humanity
Turn impossible into “Can it be” then push shriveling raisons of doubt into the fathoms
of Davie Jones’s locker, to the depths of no man’s land where oxidation and sea level
pressure crush submarines into aluminum cans, cans where can’t conforms to can,
starve doubt and feed your faith, slow and steady wins the race, but more than
anything,, remember without tree-shaking fear, find that passion and equilibrium, killing
opposition and the antagonizing meniscus, swiftly remember that life through birth is not
a boomeranging discus, life never comes back so dream, execute, relax and become
life’s subtle screenplay until the script and its cast wilt into debris of cremated urns
holding dreams, aspirations, and the well worked remains of me.
Copyright © joseph adams | Year Posted 2011
Details |
Discus Poem
|
The club event at the Paralympics,
Is unique only to the Paralympics,
And is for people with cerebral palsy,
Or for the brain injured traumatically.
It weighs 14oz and is 5 or 6cm in width,
It is made of wood and is quite a megalith.
It’s end has a spherical ball for you to grab,
To throw it, ‘cos that’s the aim, the slab.
The club is an athletics field event,
But Gemma previously did loudly tent,
Discus and shot put, and in Beijing 2008,
She came 8th in discus, shot put 7th gate.
At the Deli 2010 Commonwealth Games,
She came third in the shot put’s frames,
But then changed to the club throw gaiters,
To claim bronze in it in London, 20.50m.
She comes from Truro town in Cornwall,
And the BWAA help her workout, do call;
From Great Sankey High to St Andrews,
She did go to gain in maths a Masters.
She was born in September in the year ’83,
And has cerebral palsy just as I do, bree;
I used to throw the club like her, at school,
Out the back on the grass where I was cool.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
The wind sweeps over my bikini
and combs through my hair
This canoe ride.. is like a glass of red wine
The Naked grape my favourite kind.
I feel at peace...............
For the first time, in a while
completely rid of my anxieties
The sun embraces my skin
My china doll ceramic is so accepting
My golden retriever fearlessly jumps off the dock
he flies
He seeks adventure and see's life for what it is
You see because life is two people throwing a frisbee.
Chasing the disc back and forth desperately in hopes of the one momentarty tasting his own
personal victories
Or those moments where you throw back your hair to the wind
Uncaring for the consequences
This is how he lives
My golden retriever is the essence of living,, unaware of how his actions may be percieved
as emberrassing.
Because he lives how he feels free, and when your free
your mind explodes like a dying star and is reborn into a forming galaxy
That is all he needs.
When is it in life that we as humans just accept life for the catch and release
The elegant flight of the greek discus
When we should be tossing away our laptops, and blackberries
I'm sick of fashion magazines
telling me what is the right skinny
Because I have two skin cascadian mountains erupting from my chest
I have hips like the sticks of dynamite
and nile river torso
and a bottom that is as flat as a pizza dough
You realize the quirks and aspects that make you as an individual
BEAUTIFUL
Live like the dog that is hidden in the back of your mind
find the little things that make you gratified
Love the people around you, and celebrate their arrivals like a carnival
Eat your bowls of food like they were your last meal
Lay out on the carpet as if you lay in a bed with sheets made from Egyptian Silks
This is the way to live your life I am telling you
Copyright © laura Hew | Year Posted 2010
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Obscured dead end pathways of ideology
locked up tight on cruise control
Rollcage-carnage-wreckage no escape
on this futile treadmill
Titillalled by elliptical spinning nonsense
the crowds gasp 'til heartskips take their toll
Image-shimmage-scrimmage trapped in
end zone 'tween a flapping duckbill
Beatituded standing stoic on mount
flingin' parables cloaked with inner pain
Fillage-spillage-tillage churnin' up
dark recesses of a torrid soul
Magnified rodent droppings
served with a sprig of parsley's refrain
Floutage-outage-spoutage fallopian
discus toss of neurotic egg roll
Crampage-Ampage-rampage of
self importance ego whooshed again
Pigeonholed sweet song of raven
garbled to restless horizons does extol
Bandage-outlandish-brandish miserable
repetitious pounding on a tin roof in day of rain
Dilapidated bridge exhales 'neath rusty i-beams
cowers the deplorable thesaurus troll.
12-1-2016 Duncan R. M. Ferguson
Copyright © Duncan R. M. Ferguson | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Beverley is a professional at the Paralympics,
Because she’s been to five of them including Rio,
And in London she made the podium’s antics,
Since she won discus third with a lush glow.
Born the 17th of October 1974 with Cerebral Palsy,
She made the 2000 Sydney Summer Paralympics,
‘Cos back then she was a sprinter of great agility,
Coming 4th in the 100m and 8th in the 200m bricks.
She ran in the T38 class of running and sprinting,
But after these games she also competed in track,
The F37/38 shot put took her, it was challenging,
At the 2005 Worlds she won shot, 100m, 200m tack.
In 2006 at the CP Worlds in Conneticut USA, again
Three golds for the shot put, 100m and 200 metres,
And at the IPC Worlds, Assen, also in 2006’s pen,
Beverly set a shot put WR of a huge 10.57 metres.
At the Commonwealth Games in 2006 in hilly Wales,
She won the only event that she entered, sprinting,
When she took bronze for the 100 metres, T37 pales,
To see her climb the podium, Wales remembering.
Then she dropped running and just focused on track,
To build up her shoulder muscles for a fluent arm action,
So in 2011 at the IPC Worlds in Christchurch, jack,
She threw a discus 30.62 metres for silver convection.
In London she came third with a score of 30.99 metres,
To win a bronze, and in Rio de Janeiro she placed fifth,
“You have to switch…off [the crowd with all your litres],
[and] think [of] what you’ve been doing in training, [sith].”
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
They denude our glory
Like bananas without peels.
They traded our holds
To hungry hawking men.
Kicked away our pride
Like the FIFA ball.
Threw away our honor
Like heavy discus disk.
Scattered all our pillars.
Hammered down our fence.
They rob us of our human rights
Before our opened eyes.
Murdered our morals.
Darkened our dreams.
Suffer poor and innocent.
Blood letting behind curtains.
They praise themselves
All day and night.
They hail themselves
As hero men.
#thieves, #murderers, #hypocrates,
#looters, #riggers, #terrorists,
#betrayers, #liars etc...
Copyright © adelaja olayiwola | Year Posted 2013
Details |
Discus Poem
|
They gather there most every morn
The retirees at the coffee shop
To discus events and each others ills
Politics and the new traffic stop
It is a highlight of their day
To greet each other as they dine
And so it's easy to take for granted
They're always there,- rain or shine
But then we notice - Joes not there
On the second day and more
Investigation tells us - he passed on
It's just not the same as before
As we adapt to his departure
Months later we miss Mary's face
Sadly we concede, she is gone
Only her memory - we embrace
Slipping away - - slipping away !
Dear ones that we miss so much
As the blossom of a summer flower
Relinquishes life, to winters touch
But we are reminded in God's Word
Life is but a vapor or a flower
So is the span of our sojourn here
We know not, the day or hour
But there's a promise to each one
Who is anchored, safe in His fold
The future can yield untold rewards
In a Place where, "we never grow old"
So there's consolation we can claim
When a dear one "slips away"
For them - it's just a stepping stone
To usher them from, a house of clay
Colan L. Hiatt = 01-26-14
© All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Colan Hiatt | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
A tender note to discus
It’s lifting,
and I fear death no more
The peace that takes its time
A rose which blossom,
into a sweet scent
My affection holds no pain
Like a drop of bliss
from a fallen feather
Or the wind of joy
I beg to carry me on
A sweet twist of fate
for love sake.
Whichever,
my heart beats faster
Ardor found its way here
with genuine rapt
And I give my all,
my all …………….
Copyright © olajide shadipe | Year Posted 2012
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Discus Dan originally competed in able-bodied events,
In the discus which meant him throwing a 2kg discus,
Rather than the Paralympian 1.5kg metal disc, contents,
And is proud of his able-bodied Under-20 vest, a plus.
But in Sydney in 2000 in the Paras he won the silver,
And then in Athens the next time he threw a top gold,
In Beijing in 2008 he got a bronze as he did deliver,
‘Cos at the F44 throw he has a sure and steady hold.
Dan was born with a foot deformity, loved school sports,
And takes great cheer from today’s huge Para ticket sales,
Which are so much greater than they were before, quarts,
Also also recalls receiving a medal whilst Mo had his sails.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Hilary Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha
Ambiguity
Have you heard of Hilary
Who was meant to be.
Shall we all survive
Congress always can connive
Crazy us will do drive.
So perpetual
Candidates are around us
Have much to discus.
Want a lot of fun
For President you should run
Say what you have done.
Should not skip a space
In your life and just in case
May mention your Race.
What we meant to do
Not make a fool out of you
Hope our dreams come true.
Up all things are messed
And a Clinton will be best
With her are impressed.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Board To Tilt
Around with each other should start to spar
Regarding what to do with all our PR
When and were business should discus
And also analyze and raise a fuss.
Social gathering not great or appropriate
Might find people who are having a fit
Then those who want to start some stink
Even If an eyelash had began to blink.
Maybe it wasn't a fact and we did suppose;
What had happened on heaven knows
DRB approval never received for a terrace
Made of Plaster of Paris and enough to embarrass.
This thought and thinking is between you and I
And in case you might be wondering why
Had found that my conscience was full of guilt
People are biased and to their side want board to tilt.
In Conclusion: I was not thinking about or had
BOD in mind when I composed this. Go ahead
and read poem anyway if you haven't already.
DRB is Design Review Board
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran
PS. And to think, talking about people when
they aren't there to fend for themselves.
Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2014
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Kyron comes from Wales as he was born in Newport,
And like his older cousin was born with achondroplasia,
He followed Gareth into the Paralympics with purport,
Because he’s a field athlete and also a loud powerlifter.
At the age of 12 in 2004 he became junior champion,
At powerlifting and represented Wales in Glasgow,
Then he took up field, the shot put and the javelin,
At the CP Grand Prix, in Nottingham city to throw.
He also competed into the Czech and Berlin Opens,
Where in Berlin he came fourth in discus and shot,
But he came first at javelin with a PB of 29.53m, mens,
And in 2011 took gold at the javelin in the Worlds hot.
At the senior Worlds also in 2011 he did happily record,
A throw of 32.64m, a bronze, and then got two PBs,
In Cardiff, at the Welsh Championships, he did board,
11.19m at the shot put and 37.39 at javelin to please.
In 2013 Kyron went to Lyon in France for the Worlds,
Where he took bronze in the class F41 shot, a long put,
And now in 2016 he’s in the Rio team with strong words,
On the field in the shot and javelin, some gems to shoot.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Aled was born in Bridgend in South Wales,
With hemimelia, or without a right fibula,
And throws shot put and discus F42 tales,
By training at Wales’s sports institute mega.
An MBE, born on the 24th of May in 1991,
He represented Wales as a kid, swimming,
But in 2005 dedicated himself to the fun,
Of track athletics, which he was bringing.
So Aled took part in the Welsh Open 2009,
And won both his shot put and discus events,
So went worldwide at the Juniors so to dine,
And to devour a silver in the shot put’s vents.
He surfaced from anonymity in Christchurch,
In the year 2011 at the IPC Athletics Worlds,
When he achieved a silver medal to birch,
Flinging him into a sporting career of words.
Gold was his reward in the London Paras,
In 2012 when the Queen helicoptered down,
Plus one bronze for the shot for all of us,
Which saw him take the podium, twice renown.
2013 Lyon, France, the World Championships,
And for both disciplines Aled took the gold,
2014 in his homeland in Swansea his top hips,
Swung him into gold again in the Euros told.
Then 2015, and there was Doha and the Worlds,
Where Aled took again two golds no problem,
So in 2016 in Grosseto, Italy, and in Rio’s worlds,
He won two golds, and one for a shot awesome.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Kieran has a lot to do with Stoke Mandeville,
As he has Cerebral Palsy, born in Boston town,
He wants to be a fitness instructor for his till,
And is hooked on throwing discus, his crown.
He was born on the 18th of January in 1992,
And in 2011 in the F33 category of the discus,
He became the junior world champion new,
To qualify him for the London 2012 Para bus.
Sadly he came 10th with 925 points only in total,
But he just cheered on his hero, Dan Greaves,
And then in 2013 he threw a PB at full throttle,
Of 31.51m, in Chester & Manchester leaves.
Due to the meets in Stoke Mandeville’s grounds,
He’s heading for Rio to use that residual muscle,
Which he developed in prior powerlifting sounds,
To beat the rest of the field without much tussle.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Jo was born in Yorkshire, England,
In 1979, but moved up to Glasgow,
And in 2011 saw a spinal tumor take,
So embraced fully the Spinal Games.
Thrown into wheelchair rugby brutal,
She became the Crushers vice-captain,
And began in 2014 a career as a F51,
Throwing the discus and club objects.
She did well and set a ER of 17.68m,
Then in Perth got PBs of 9.79 & 19.50,
Where she took home the gold medal,
In both of these rugged muscle events.
In 2015 busy Dubai beckoned, Fazaa,
She did the F32, the F33, and the F51.
She won the discus with a 8.87m throw,
To set a new ER, striving further on.
And she also won the club, totally cool,
With 19.69m to take her home the gold.
Olympic Park in London made 21.5m,
Where she saw her competitor’s backs.
Indeed, at the Worlds in Doha, Qatar,
Jo went on to throw 21.4m, a CR made,
Which relegated her rival into second,
So she’ll be at Rio for both the events.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
Holly was the captain of TeamGB,
In 2016 at the European Champs,
In Grosseto in the centre of Italy,
Where she did rock with amps.
She collected a bronze medal,
To forward the team a bit more,
She suffers from Dwarfism’s dial,
And used to ride horses galore.
Her horse was injured, and,
No money in the kitty did mean,
A change to field events grand,
To discus and to shot put lean.
At the World events in Lyon,
Holly did well and came third,
In 2013 when she did jettison,
The discus 21.54m - the word.
Holly’s “ultimate goal,” her words,
Was Rio, and when she received,
The call, she just gave her cards:
“Are you sure?” - am I deceived??
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
A tender note to discus
It’s lifting,
and I fear death no more
The peace that takes its time
A rose which blossom,
into a sweet scent
My affection holds no pain
Like a drop of bliss
from a fallen feather
Or the wind of joy
I beg to carry me on
A sweet twist of fate
for love sake.
Whichever,
my heart beats faster
Ardor found its way here
with genuine rapt
And I give my all,
my all …………….
Copyright © olajide shadipe | Year Posted 2012
Details |
Discus Poem
|
for the heard for the hurdle of a mile turn ace of hold match for the dagger
wind wet back this topic is a hot one to discus dear god shoe laces tighten
if time had a shovel words and learning would be the
bricks it stack on not the curve of the grade
tell you story tell you my struggles
but with all things of clear air it has it way
of refreshing it self
what not said can be sense from capital hill down to monore avenue what a shack down & school house rock
can you sense it present like the back to a lead pencil with no eraser
how damaging can be not to erase but to in brace the history
tell you story tell you my struggles
What a bold solider on the battle field
I can see your tears from tear gas that tank the blood back to
Montgomery bus line is safe to cross that line
tell you story tell you my struggles
Copyright © Louis Borgo | Year Posted 2016
Details |
Discus Poem
|
I remember, I remember my garden of joy,
It gave me great happiness when I was a boy
At the bottom of the garden was a delightful stream,
When alone, I would sit beside it, meditate and dream.
In the garden stood an ancient apple tree,
In the spring time its coloured buds were a joy to see.
In the autumn the russet apples were harvested in,
Our neighbours also enjoyed surplus apples from our bin.
At summertime my two friends would come in and play cricket,
Game stopped when the batsman knocked the ball into the thicket.
On summer evenings Mum or Dad read us a story in the eventide,
Other children came in, lemonade and biscuits mum did provide.
Subject to weather mum packed a picnic on a Sunday afternoon,
To meet the local villagers, to gossip, farmers sold their eggs, that was a boon
The villagers would meet, discus each other’s fortune, on the village green, There all the local gossip everyone could tell or glean.
The young ones played football, cricket or handball,
The girls often beat the boys, that did not go down well.
Some times in the evening Dad would take me down to listen to the local band, Some music I did not like, some I thought was grand.
I left home at twenty one to work in the city,
My little village is now a small town, what a pity.
I have photo’s to remind me of my happy past,
With an expanding world villages like mine will never last.
Copyright © Terry Godwin | Year Posted 2018