Best Goliaths Poems
Why root
for underdogs?
Easy. They just don't quit;
odds against them, tremendous, yet...
these tough Rocky Balboas
of the world fight
to win.
Why root
for underdogs?
We see ourselves in them.
When they taste victory, we win.
Their survival instinct
is a treat to
behold.
Why root
for underdogs?
They often surprise, so...
don't be quick to bet against them;
their determination,
surely second...
to none.
Why root
for underdogs?
They roll with the punches;
Davids at war with Goliaths,
at disadvantage, yet...
no fear shown, no...
retreat.
Why root
for underdogs?
The question is why not?
After all, they give us their best!
Their heart is in the fight.
When they lose, they...
still win!
Submitted for...
Heptastich Poetry Contest
Sponsored by William Kekaula
Date written: 06/05/2021
Categories:
goliaths, people, perspective,
Form:
Verse
Ringleted and pink cheeked, the girl child sat,
Upon the bench next to her Da and his cronies.
The Goliaths munched greasy burgers and string fries.
Dirt smudged her upturned face.
Like the remnants of the grime covering Da's overalls.
Baseball caps and factory-embroidered jackets;
Spoke of tractor pulls and manure piles ripe for the garden.
A bunch of salt laced potatoes dangled from her mitt.
Droplets of gooey ketchup dribbled from the corner of her lip.
Uncles surrounded in a girth of love so large
And as her tiny paten leather feet touched the floor
Her hand reached for Da's and the blankie.
All was right with the world.
Categories:
goliaths, devotion
Form:
Free verse
There’s no nut torrid like a sports fan
He wants to see feats not known to man
Watching from his hot seat
While goliaths compete
For the top, the best since time began
© Oct 5 2010 Charles Henderson
6 th in Linda's Sports Limerick contest
Categories:
goliaths, sportssports,
Form:
Limerick
Extraordinaire, he raised the ice.
He told me this when I was a child.
He said he heard his neck pop.
He laughed and said, “That stopped my dare devil’s persona.
As you see, I am short.
I liked to participate in a dare devil’s sport when I was young”.
He went further into his exploration.
He said he worked at the ice house and was challenged.
If he could rise up ice with teeth, he would be paid graciously.
He would not disclose the amount.
However, he won the challenge.
Therein, his neck snapped.
The ice was hoisted to the sky.
I asked what happen next.
He said he drop the ice and it hit the floor like a brick.
Herein, the ice splits in two.
How is anima doing?
He was rushed to the Emergency Room.
Maybe he became paralyze pro tem.
What he shared is what I have given.
He died in nineteen hundred and eighty-three.
This is in remembrance of anima.
Down the alley’s road stood an old stucco house.
In the yard stood a fig tree.
Adjacent to, was Aunt Donnie’s home.
Both lawns were kept by nature splendidly.
Beautiful flowers grew during the fall and the spring.
Summertime was buzzing.
I would visit anima and often see Aunt Donnie.
He loved his Wild Irish Rose.
Even more so, the Depot was where he went for shade.
He would say he needed to stretch his legs.
True to his inner self, his moniker statured him among goliaths.
To put it another way, would be a lie.
This is written as a celebration of life.
________________________________________________________|
Penned April 18, 2015!
Categories:
goliaths, appreciation, bereavement, celebration, how
Form:
Narrative
Were
these
blacksmith,
goliaths-
all eye & no brain
Categories:
goliaths, fantasy,
Form:
Fibonacci
He sees me deep through my soul,
His palms mark the lives He toiled for,
No one can be compared to Him,
‘Cause he’s a miracle of His own.
Unlike many kings, He is remarkable,
With His thorny crown,
And His stick scepter,
He build a kingdom of humble gold.
Hundred Goliaths he defeated,
Steeled walls He crumpled
With bare hands and pure faith
To raise a blood of His own.
It would take centuries to fill
The blood and sweat He poured for our cradle
And I will forever be proud to say
Thank you and I love you my Savior.
Categories:
goliaths, jesus, love, thank you,
Form:
Lyric
Oh! The rivers flow quietly
The wind blown naturedly
Angels toured mvezo Village
Looking for a man
To bring forth, oh! To bring forth
Emancipation to South Africa
Noquphi Nosekeni the privileged woman
Answer to the call of nature July 18, 1918
Baby Nelson Mandela touched the land of apartheid
He grew like an ordinary child
He played with his peers
In him his lion was waiting
He saw the affliction of his people
And refused to dance the music of apartheid
He traded his comfort for freedom
And gave his life as ransom
He saw tears of his people overflow the land
In him his lion prepared to explode
Apartheid prepared a new home for him
The prison door opened in 1963
The chains etched into his flesh
Hunger was his closest companion
Hard labor became his career
In him his lion sought a solution
His speeches blasted apartheid ambushes
He gathers the stones for all Goliaths
Daily prayed for the truth to prevail
Angels sent from above
The prison opened and presidency came forth
And his lion devoured apartheid forever
Categories:
goliaths, art,
Form:
Prose Poetry
On this road of life
When being glow in thought.
Deep.
Breath in breath
That all is gone without fault.
Deep.
Deeper is life that we all go down the hell
In ignorance of the war against us.
Despite our activist in religious sects.
That we in most essence
Stand prey of the end time priests.
Not even of special life
As we merry also
In this way our leaders are grooming us.
Hate speech and freedom of speech.
Are the Goliaths dominant in our nation.
Deep.
Deeper do we go in all things
Even when tables are shaken
To unveiled the hidden in all holiness.
Oh saviour!
Help us out lest we go down the deep innocently.
© olorode olorunleke.
Categories:
goliaths, allegory, anxiety, appreciation, bullying,
Form:
Alliteration
There are soft whispers only I can hear
coming from shivers deep within my soul,
"Save me from that which I most fear.
Hostility around us that we can't control."
My heart beat more rapidly in its confusion.
Though sheltered, I couldn't decrease its pace.
The world continues to proliferate delusion ~
cause for the woeful state of the human race.
Brutish rulers sit on pedestals as their throne
while innocents must claw in the dirt to survive.
Where is another David who will hurl the stone,
to free my heart and soul and keep hope alive?
Categories:
goliaths, fear, world,
Form:
Quatrain
FELICIA (dedicated to the efforts of all on the HIV/AIDS scourge)
Rapturous ecstasy emanates from the town
Everyone, everywhere spoke of this damsel
She has just newly packed into town
Gossips could be seen around in their clusters:
"Who is she and where is she from?"
More to that, like a magnetic attraction
Felicia draws the attention of residents to herself
Wives are holding tight to their husbands;
The surely of Felicia is surely a threat.
Not even with her skimpy skirts and dresses
Felicia cuts the image of an angel
With her flawless grammar and sense of humour
The bulge of her regions make lookers apopletic
Her steps typify the menacing walk of a cat
She has all it takes for men to turn around
Society people want to have a taste of her
Women desire her to boost their ego
The mighty, the influential and intellectual inclusive
A King once offered her half of his kingdom
A Governor dangled a mouth-watering contract
A Vice Chancellor even offered her 'Medicine Admission'
Felicia suddenly became cheap and accessible
Initial ego and applause faded into thin air
She went up for the Goliaths to chew,
She came down for the crawling to lick.
She offered her body, a ransom for all
Promiscous men were happy to have their fill
Gloom, sorrow and tears soon pervaded the town
The toll of death was rising by the day
Surviving men depict postures of 'Somalian famine'
Their blood almost drained to the marrows
There was a peculiarity in their deaths
Only those who pitched tents with Felicia are victims
Soon the mist began to clear
I then could see beyond the ordinary
I'd ransacked every material available for clarity
The word of knowledge then came from ABOVE
The second name of FELICIA is AIDS
(c) WP May 1999
Categories:
goliaths, death, health, imagination, inspirational,
Form:
Acrostic
I move my life to marching drums,
carving paths into my bare palms.
You showed me how to play apathy
I've never begged to a silent god more than
when I dreamed of empty tables
and riots in my wardrobe
(instead of lions or snow),
but then you glowed through the mist of my mind, and
thoughts of you were all I could find
in the cavernous space in my head-
for all I knew every nerve ending had left me
empty, and
wired with an endless map of veins;
built, from the ground to the ceiling
with the yarn of life.
You cut through all my knots
now I'm a mess of frayed ends and
more pieces than you could ever imagine.
You threw me to the sea,
I was swallowed by the brackish shore-line
which coils itself into the monsters that hide
around every corner I turn.
Will you never learn that nothing you do
helps me to stand,
you just split my seams
and spill my contents onto the floor.
If you learned one thing from your mother
it was never to cry;
not over spilt milk, anyway.
My heart beats cracks into my ribs,
but my hands hold the sun
it shines through my fingers, scorching
each one of my nails
and curls me at the edges
(singed)
the earth will never turn enough to
spin me from its surface, so
I guess I'll have to jump and
swim to the brim of the stars
while they bloom in the night sky,
a black sheet of pin-pricks
burning white against your charcoal surface.
sometimes, my pupils feel like frosted glass
but then I turn to your Good Book
and that lonely feeling swells
in my chest.
I feel more at home
when I'm floating somewhere
above your head or
maybe into happiness again
but I will never see
any more than what I've seen.
I will never skim the surface
or go anywhere I've never been.
I am stuck
living quietly, angry at myself for
falling into this rut.
and, to be quite frank
there's no one I'd like to thank more than you
(or the Goliaths you sent chasing my skirts)
Categories:
goliaths, life, me, me,
Form:
Free verse
Gondolas thrift contently upon a gentian violet
Thrown from dusky sunsets on a marauding wake
Adopting Venetians transpose as the partake;
Sip mulberry wine to toast the ultraviolet.
Cerulean skies, inundations, surge the amaranth
Spray lavender with a mauve bouquet of backcloth;
Bear a pigmentation that the heliotropes strove forth
Luminary, heather halos mimic gamma strength.
Plum age old interceptors, those cardinals and priests
Rage velveteen and indigo, planning sermons apiece,
Text books coloured aubergine bless a firmament lease
Like exorcists displaying ways to snub behemoth beasts.
The Grand Canal is unified as the amethysts surrounding:
Producing arch goliaths, as the buildings passing by
Shape a deep mauve battlement, twilight’s gradual high
The sheer delight of Indigo, the honeymooners grounding.
Categories:
goliaths, nature, peace, social, urban,
Form:
Rhyme
When I was little my daddy would enter my sister and my bedroom at night
to do things to his little girls that hurt or sometimes tickled and bring his flashlight
mom never let us out of the yard to go play
looking back I guess she was scared of what we might say
but this one day in particular we got to walk to this church on Sunday
the three of us. two sisters and a brother we were so happy
that mom trusted us even if she didn't love us or our daddy
we went and we sat and they asked us all kinds of things
we really didn't know what to say, our hearts were racing
we sat and we listened as he talked about God
this loving Father, the best you could ever have because
He loved you and would protect you and always be there
so with him in your life you never had to be scared
all you had to do was to talk to him everyday
and ask for what you wanted to have and say
he would help you because he loved you so much
he wouldn't not be there, he would keep his promises and such
so when I went to bed at night I would lie in bed and ask him
for my daddy not to hurt us and stay out and then I saw them
two big goliaths standing right there in front of our door
protecting my sister and I with their arms crossed to hurt us no more
I said "God thank you, I love you, you are the best daddy for me"
I turned over went to sleep and it was morning and nothing
bothered us all night, he left us alone
prayer does work, if you ask that Father in the sky
and it worked from now on, we never had to cry
out of pain or fear
God protected us it was clear
it was a miracle I thought as I got older
it reminded me of Easter when they rolled away the boulder
Prayer really does work take it from me
God will protect you just try Prayer and see
Categories:
goliaths, abuse, brother, children, destiny,
Form:
Rhyme
Edit
i am me
by Ty Ngachira on Saturday, December 31, 2011 at 6:24pm
I am the longshot
I am the one they never so coming
I am the life beat of a heart once dying
I am the old horse that keeps kicking
i am truth in a world that keeps lying
I am the runner who though the race ends keeps running
I am the dancer who keeps moving though the cutains falling
i am the longshot
i am the raindrop that split the earth
i am the straw that broke the camels back
i am the bullet the vest couldnt catch
i am the arrow the armour couldnt stop
i am the pebble that cracked goliaths skul
i am the hair grown back on Samsons head
i am the longshot
i am the manifestation of a revolution
i am the stmbol for a new generation
i am the underdog who becomes champion
am picked not just chosen
i am the voice they cant mum
i am the song hope cant stop but hum
iam the last of a dying breed
yet its hope that i bleed
am he whose passion is a creed
created by gods decree
i am the f that made lame hot like flame
i am the g that made low glow
i am change,
i am difference,
i am uniqueness
i am wine from The true vine
i am what u cannot be
I AM ME
Categories:
goliaths, slam, hope,
Form:
Bio
Shadow
From vantage morning of my dreams;
I counted my length of days,
Heretofore on earth, rooted the strength of manly yob,
In pursuance of transient dreams,
The ebbing shadows spur
The Everest i would scales,
To amass the fortune i must astride;
And battles the armoured Goliaths to victory,
Bestowed by kings and lords, in golden palaces,
Medals of Emeralds and adorable princess;
And a crown with minaret of peacock feathers,
Basking in prideful bondage,
But at the drowsy dusk of my realism;
Dreams are made in heaven,
Creeping shadows are made of void,
Void is nothingness.
Categories:
goliaths, fantasy
Form:
Free verse