Best Footballs Poems
I played quietly sometimes
With crayons, books and pictures
Creating crafts that only a child
Could enjoy or imagine with
Images of brilliant hues and hopes
I played silently sometimes
With animals that had taught me
Of the value of friendship
Listening and caring with the heart
Loving like there is only God
I played furiously sometimes
With footballs, skates and jump ropes
Knowing the heavy beat of feet
Skipping, darting, sprinting
Through dense grass and woods
I played joyously sometimes
With hues of passion whispering
Shooting stars surrounding me
Beckoning me to dream and believe
The miracles that embrace the soul
I played along the edge of rivers
With a hunger and thirst for the caress
Of liquid as it purges the flow
Echoes across smooth stones
Invaluable blessings of grace
I played, played and played some more
With delight, pleasure and insight
Knowing the meaning of God’s gift
Caressing me from every side
The sun, rain, clouds, flowers, birds
I play today with the promise of heaven
Awaiting me there in the skies
Like a gift too wonderful to open
It hangs above the sun and I anticipate
The joy that it will hold when I go there
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (27) ,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Brian Strand
August 26, 2020
THE DALLAS COWBOYS
Can you not hear the rumblings of that distant herd coming,
The loud thundering of destiny’s champions crossing, the NFL
Field of dreams, beware the rampaging lightening team known
As the Dallas Cowboys, for they are the hail storms victorous
Breed, the eye of the hurricane riders, searching for their
Well-deserved trophy of fortunes honor!
Remove your cowboy’s hats of respect unto them, ladies
Curtsy with reverences motion, for these athletes are
Endurance’s best, and they shall overcome against
Any opposing finest challengers, these rangers of the
Old western traditions, that carry this country’s time
Honored name of the cowboy to the ultimate extreme,
Of skill and strength’s dexterity!
Dallas all plain drifters of purity’s valor, head to head
No bull horns about it, these are the champions of the
Gladiatorial games in the world of sportsmanship!
Yielding unto no oppositions combatants, these warriors
Hold their ground with distinctions sheer magnificence!
Let those world famous cheerleaders scream with every
Field goal achieved, for these beauties know that no
Other team in footballs annals will score, to the level
Of these good old boys, named by fame's hall of records,
The famous Dallas Cowboys, heehaw and God bless hum!
Now listen you city slicking team of sports hall of fameing
Seekers, you’d better go back to your home fields of
Advantages, for hear in this lone star state, we take no
Prisoners, and show no mercy to out lander's!
Here in the ALAMO state of freedoms calling,
We remember our heritage standing tall and
Proud against all odds, blazoned in bullets
Historical legends, our grand team barres
The name of fore-barriers proudly, those
Pioneer’s men known, as the all American
Cowboys!
These six-shooters whom rode the die hard tails,
Across a new world creating a country of freedom,
Where only the tumble-weeds rolled, and desert dust,
Coached a man’s thirst almost to madness!
Now in traditions sport of men, a new team of desperado’s,
Threatens this lone star state, but have no fear my fellow
Texans for our Dallas Cowboys will send them packing,
With a good old boy’s field goals smacking, so I’ll cheer
Them on, waving my hat in the evening air, yelling heehaw,
Go get hum boys!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
FOR LINDA THE DESTROYER
ROCK ON SISTER POET
REALLY
I ------JGL-------------- do solemnly swear
to tell you of all that I see and I hear,
invite you inside that dark space in my mind
allow you ten minutes to see what you find.
The errors of learning, childhood mistakes,
the stumbles, the falls, the failed “buckboard brakes”.
The cold teaching penguins, the hollowed out priests
the making of bread with - and without – yeast.
Fumbling of footballs and endless first dates
running for freedom through open church gates,
searching for meaning in life – or in death
discovering reasons – rekindling breath.
Disrobing a man - standing naked – and free
discarding the concepts that kept me – from me,
confronting the demons, denying the brutes
by feeding the bastards their own lying truths.
Standing atop bold towers of steel
alive in a breeze that makes everything real,
holding a love that awakened my passions
cradled inside a life that she fashioned.
Holding small hands, jellied and sweet
dancing with them perched atop my big feet,
Frisbee and soccer played in cold rains,
drying their tears in failure and gains.
Losing a step, no – the grandkids are quicker
or maybe my gut is a little bit thicker,
holding one hand as one left for battle
remembering both when they held baby rattle.
Embracing a soldier, a mother, my baby
filled with the questions of “if, when, and maybe”
Watching a brother and sister rejoice
at announcement that soon there will be a new voice
to carry the heart, the soul, and the wit
of a name, and a family, and what goes with it.
John G. Lawless
9/3/2014
For Skat A Keep It Real poetry contest
This avenue, the same as ones nearby
once rang to screams and laughter, hoots and calls,
toy planes and cap rockets taunted the sky,
and footballs kicked and bounced against shop walls.
In rows, the children stood ready to run
after the chant 'Please Mister Crocodile',
and 'British Bulldog' always was good fun,
they ran and chased, then sat to rest a while.
No chalk on pavements, hopscotch now old hat,
no snakes and ladders scrawled down someone's drive,
the children sit indoors, no time for that,
and stare at screens, 'till adulthood arrives.
They waste the thing one day they'll miss the most
their childhood, on the avenue of ghosts.
>I am not a keen fan of football, although I did play for my team when in the army, I played left outside, sorry I mean outside left. Watching the TV the other night. Something triggered my brain cell to write about:-
The Football.
The football I used long ago.
Was made of leather, now you know.
Inside it had a bag of air.
I do not kid, it was just there.
Was not light, took quite a kick.
If headed, made you feel quite sick.
Men were men, in days of old.
I was one. So just be told.
Watched a match. The other day.
On TV when I switched on I say.
Was that a beach ball? I did see.
In pretty colours, he he he.
As I watched the match a while.
With just a tap, ball flew a mile.
Well not quite that far, it's true.
But tap it about, players did do.
Were some players swimmers, for they did dive.
Brought on my face, a certain smile.
Earn't a penalty. One did do.
Missed scoring the goal, he did it's true.
Football rose high in the air.
If rugby two points would be there.
But kick that ball, they sure did do.
So could my missus, I'm telling you.
She'd get that ball in the net.
As none would dare stop her, of that I'll bet.
But as that football looks so gay.
With pretty colours, I meant to say.
I guess them men could play all day.
As no one took their ball away.
Pretty ball diving too.
Is that football? I'm asking you.
If boys and girls come out to play.
They use balls like that every day.
Oh! It's hero worship, did you say?
Playing with coloured footballs today.
Well on that footnote I'm away.
To colour my football today.
I have to thank Dragon's auto punctuation for commas and full-stops. Although I had to type this statement myself as all Dragon did was , and . Have a nice day all you who read this here. If you do not, well I hope you have a nice day anyway, but you will never know I said that will you? (The mad Author)<
I've got footballs.I've got basketballs.I've got baseballs.
And now, they're showing my balls on ESPN.
But the smallest balls I've ever seen?
Were golf balls.
Ping Pong balls were even smaller.
Would you like to join me, for a game of table tennis?
Because! I've got balls..
I've got red balls.I've got white balls.I've got blue balls.
And now, they're playing The Star Spangled Banner.
But the biggest balls I've ever seen?
Were elephant balls.
How many balls does it take to reach the moon?
One! But it's got to be a big one.
One big ball..
I'm going down to the ball room right now, and have a ball.
Would you like to join me?
We'll have a real good time.
Because! I've got balls..
Humorous Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2002,2014..
ALL rights reserved..
Racial slurs fly in Michigan like footballs.
I'm not supposed to point the finger at white women,
but white women who enjoy NASCAR, and mass
quantities of alcohol. can be pretty racists and homophobic,
This white woman said, "What did God say when he made
the first black man? "Damn, I burnt one."
Some people can lighten the mood right before a race-riot
breaks out by telling racists jokes. On the roof
of a very tall building are four men; one is asian,
one is mexican, one is black, and the last one is white.
The asian walks to the ledge and says,
"This is for all my people" and jumps off the roof.
Next, the mexican walks to the ledge and also says,
"This is for all my people" and then he jumps off the roof.
Next is the black guy's turn. The black guy walks
to the ledge and says, "This is for all my people"
and then throws the white guy off the roof.
See that's funny. We get really funny things
because of our differences. We do have to learn
to laugh, but more importantly appreciate ourselves..
Without color the world would be pretty grey.
This seems pretty obvious, but doesn't stop people
from killing each other. The world wouldn't
even be grey without color because grey is a color.
They say the blind can't lead the blind,
which brings me to my next joke.
How do you blindfold a Chinese person?
Put floss over their eyes.
I shouldn't have to spell out the obvious, or fight
for tolerance. It's getting late and my eyes
are turning red from all the jokes. Racism is
really bad comedy. it's like listening to a really bad laugh
that slowly drives a man insane. Don't even get me
started on sexism, which is just a form of stupidity.
I just don't like stupid people. I don't like when stupid
looks me in the eyes because it's ugly.Racists and sexists
must have brain cancer or some devastating mental illness,
which causes them to get mad when Mexicans don't mow
the grass or confused when black people don't like fried chicken.
She was an aspiring starlet, a real cutie patootie
Folks were in awe of her natural beauty
She wanted to be a great Hollywood star
But she’s taken the surgery much too far
Her teeth have been fixed for a dazzling smile
They are unnaturally white now they stand out a mile
The Botox she had was to smooth her pale skin
But she can’t move a muscle much to her chagrin!
Her eyebrow lift gives her a startled expression
The desire for perfection has become an obsession!
She’s had Botox on wrinkles and fillers on lips
Liposuction drained 2 pints of gunk from her hips
In trying to obtain that perfect pink pout
Its gone terribly wrong she now looks like a trout!
Her breasts are augmented and they look quite obscene
Like over inflated footballs seen in a top shelf magazine
These two huge ‘flotation tanks’ are silicon filled
They are lumpy and hard but her boyfriend is thrilled!
But how did she pay for surgery which was so drastic...
She opened her purse and put it on the plastic!!
Date:05 11 17
Contest Name:Make me actually LOL 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
In March winds we spring ahead one hour
Flowering trees play in April showers
With a rainbow of colors, May flowers bloom
Summer comes in, school's out in June
Vacations and picnics start in July
While millions of fireworks light up the sky
A hot August breath gives life to the pools
Watermelons so sweet they make you drool
September's Autumn has footballs flying
Halloween's in October and all the leaves are dying
In the month of November, there's a lot going on
Thanksgiving, Black Friday, deer hunting at dawn
We shop the whole month of December it seems
With snow, St. Nick and winter's New Years Eve
January resolutions and frosty window panes
Everything glistens in icy February rains
Daffodils signal winter is ending
Again weather changes spring is ascending
With the cycle of seasons one thing is clear
We all have our favorite time of the year
by Daniel Turner
I quickly joined the Navy on June the 4th, 1943,
As soon as I graduated at 17, life was definitely to be;
I received boot training in the state of Maryland,
At Bainbridge, became a navigator noble and grand.
I was sent to Amphibious Training wet, phew wee,
At Little Creek in Virginia, where I got my crew,
Of different ranks including machinists as gunners,
The craft was 56-foot, our rations made us stunners.
But I was separated from my crew, went to Plymouth,
In England, placed on a Liberty ship used to house,
Replacement cargo for artillery that got destroyed,
Which was so much longer than the crafts deployed.
In Fahnouth England, I memorised Normandy maps,
Prepared and used a Reflectoscope to turn on the taps;
We were scared of poison gas when we hit Omaha,
I was quarantined on June 1st of ’44, needed mama.
We saved many from the crafts using cargo nets sublime,
But they were difficult to climb in the rough seas, crime,
A craft almost mounted the ship ‘cos of a high wave,
And always we had to be steely and very, very brave.
The bombs from the Nazi’s were the size of footballs,
And we painstakingly recovered many bodies, stalls,
From the water which had just beaten them cruelly,
And that first D-Day morning we were losing brutally.
The Germans hedgehogs, or bombs for the landing crafts,
Fired on us from a pillbox, but in my case American staff,
Took my attacking pillbox out, and I was just so grateful,
‘Cos it was causing me havoc ‘cos I almost felt too awful.
Luckily that night two German planes simply just avoided us,
After a few days we did hydrographic 3D printing work, suss,
For which I was commended, I contributed to today’s 3D printing
Then I lead the invasion of southern France, which was amazing.
The Panama Canal saw me on a rocket ship headed for Japan,
But the A-Bomb ended the war, and we went state-side to tan,
My Honourable Discharge was in March of ’46, and I was quick,
To get back to my peacetime activities, but never forgot the sick.
Footballs guarded like gold bars.
ISIS severes headlines from
Africa's crisis.
Forward is backward
Reverse is attractive
A prison ward devoid of words
Speechless, how captivating
meaningless has become
A dictatorship of media sensationalism
dig beneath the surface
you've heard it before.
Over and over again
the same ol record spins
Society's music
has separated us
from feeling anything
more than an
exposed erections.
Where's love's lesson?
Self actualization
self sacrifice
Don't think twice
Colonel Stauffenberg
went on a suicide mission
to restore hope in all of
humanity.
The equivalent of our hereos
shoots balls through hoops
and complian having
to wear suits.
Really wish there was
a person who could fly.
Soar above hype and fortune
truly worthy of the title of hero
Need life more simplified.
Need the whos and whys
answered with so what!
Put suffering souls
forward and front
recognize those who
recognize this
call them heroes
for highlighting what matters
Patriot's Play Scheme
Should I make love or leave well enough alone?
Even though may be young teen or fully grown;
My decision, what things will it be affected by?
Nothing works out no matter how hard I try.
My life bottomed out and became abysmal,
Yet I will struggle and continue on still;
Even often by bad things I am bothered,
And may have hooped much and also hollered.
What must I make out of all this musty mess?
So I can be sure to obtain and reach success
After many great throws my balls would land
Exactly where I eagerly, earnestly had planned.
On one dastard day luckily learned how to dance;
In much more time, appearing to be a spance
I religiously became such a romantic soul
After one shot ball (Eagle) ended up in a hollow hole.
My worried mind became such a heavy load,
And I humorously decided to hit a long road
To recovery being that God and of course I
Won't use footballs having air in short supply.
Passes and drives landed which went so far;
After pretentious putts I made ended up par;
Personal sports psychology became prophetic;
Patriots play scheme seemed to be so pathetic.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
www.poetrysoup.com
www.story-telling-around-the-world.com
Hooray!
Wet grassy feet fill my soccer cleats.
Hot sweaty teens run fast track meets.
She skis down sugary mountain tops.
He begs his coach to play shortstop.
Footballs, field goals, fumbles.
Touchdowns, tackles, tumbles.
My mother keeps warm with hot brown drinks,
as I learn to skate on chilly rinks.
A sadly splintered hockey stick, from a two-quick hat trick.
A winning catch is cradled in a well-loved mitt.
Tiger wins with a hole in one.
Miniature golf is much more fun.
Double dribble the whistle blows.
Excitement on the court grows!
Busy balls dunked in their hoops.
"Hooray" the three cheers for the ALLEY -OOP!
I was told I was
not going to walk, but I
now kick footballs. Logic?
Our lab named “Blackjack”, looks just like a bear
Jet black and grey, the color of his hair.
He’s an English Lab, with the big wide head
We bought him instead, of buying a bed.
He wouldn’t come in, in the barn he’d live
“Jack” ran and he played, lots of love to give.
While we were at work, my dad would hang out
He’d come to the farm, let “Jack” roam about.
One day dad was mad, he fell in the stones
He was so lucky, he didn’t break bones.
He called “Jack” to come, to feed him his treat
“Jack” came from behind, knocked dad off his feet.
This happened again, no brains did he lack
For he was quite smart, just don’t turn your back.
“Jack” loved taking off, to the field he’d run
He thought this a game, and found it quite fun.
When he would get mad, the barn he would chew
Where the nails went, we hadn’t a clue.
He grew up quite strong, protector at that
He chased off foxes, and sometimes a bat.
He had his own house, when we moved to town
He’d take everything, if not all glued down.
Knives, hats and helmets, and many a shoe
Footballs and baseballs, and newspapers too.
He thought it was fun, to set up his house
Probably even chased, out many a mouse.
Tried studding out “Jack”, the poor guy was old
The female was smart, he couldn’t get hold.
“Jack” went out for runs, snuck out of the gate
We’d catch him most times, or else we would wait.
“We just saw your dog”, “but he wouldn’t come”
“Tried giving him bones”, he sure wasn’t dumb.
He’s one of a kind, we love and adore
And when you pet him, he falls to the floor.
He’d sit up quickly, and hand you his paw
You know he’s special, from what you just saw.