Best Half Time Poems
There’s nothing like a sat’dy when the dews still on the ground,
and I can take me young bloke where they kick a ball around.
To see the highs and lows of me kid who does his best,
and barrack till I’m hoarse by encouraging the rest.
When we’re winning I’m a grinner and a happy chap at least,
but when fortune doesn't smile there’s the hinting of a beast,
and on this day we’re losing but me young bloke’s playing well,
so I made a move to tell him when they rang the half time bell.
I wondered why the coach had beckoned him, over to his side,
where he’s giving him a lecture and me young bloke nearly cried.
He’s played a ripper game, considering the situation.
I stood behind the coach and heard the tail end of his conversation.
He mentioned that with footy it’s the spirit of the contest.
It’s important not to swear at others when they do their best.
When an umpire makes decisions that you might see as wrong
you must not throw a tantrum or keep slandering on and on.
“Do you understand what I’ve just said”, the coach said to me son.
“This club has got a reputation and this is not the way it’s done”.
I was just about to step in when the coach said “Now me lad,
I want you to take what I just said and explain it to your dad”.
Maradona
He is the footballer of the year
His frosty sport was like a boom
He announced his presence
Under a strain of marshal melody
And with a blast he entered the field;
Lost were the referee & ourselves
In the mist of his bombshells
The game has been a half-time
A smart footballer, he is gone!
It is a game to plunder & share
It is the pillage of our earth
Our earth is at the crossroad.
"Marching Band"
Dapper dilettantes take over one hundred yards
Showing their feathers like a cockatoo on pointy shakos
Displaying their talents on grass they are anything but green
Ready to give resplendent resonance through beasts of golden brass
Popping percussive drumming getting drilled into them by a sergeant
Time and time again by so many rehearsals they know formations by heart
The time for sweat and tears is over, they are here to perform
Atten hut!
Impressing the crowd with baton twirling
Majorettes turn into marionettes as the sergeant pulls their strings
Compact formation now, the crowd will wait for hot dogs
Watching a half time special while they stand alert in place
About face!
Witnessing scintillating choreography with a one, two turn
The symbols get their chance to be rim shot participators
And the Grand Marshall leads the baton twirlers aside
For the color guard and their blinding high definition radiance
No one is out of phase and the scene is picture perfect
Then they dive into the scatter drill
Show their true talents with life, love and liberty to move where they want
Individual inspiration takes over each one to the ensemble
This is the real reason they are here, for happiness
They make way for the gymnasts while maintaining play
Who express their own interest in the spectacle of somatic arts
Triangles and fantastic figures on three people straddled high
Build in the crowd a new love for geometry
They have to give way though in good measure
To guns of glory and so many shots sent high in the air
Puffs of smoke are burst sky high, evaporating a salutary good bye
Thanks for watching
Patriots and Seahawks, today head to head
Will wear the helmets; tooth and nail fight the day
University of Phoenix stadium, the beautiful Grand Canyon state
Sweat and blood will spill on cactus bed.
Hard training, pain, dedication and rivalry
Let it end today in guts, honor and glory.
“The Star- spangled Banner”, the sweet little song
That’s the way to start the game on
The Red, White and Blue, waving in the air
Jet planes stripe the sky in white smoky flair.
It is half time show; Katy Perry will soothe the ear
Lenny Kravitz will tear up our fear.
Time to have a drink baby
Cold beer, pinot noir or tequila savory
Let’s dive deep in some dips
Velveeta, salsa and tortilla chips.
Enjoy the platter of, hot wings, blue cheese and dill mayonnaise
Add some green olives, carrots and crunchy celeries.
Slices of pizza or meaty tacos, gasp my sigh
A bowl of chili, or even a chicken leg fry
Everything will go just fine
When we are all football high.
Forget all work, qualms and quarks
Keep your whining and politics inside the drawers
Let’s all watch the Super Bowl on this Sunday
And hold dear a simple pleasure in truly American way.
LOVE UNDER THE HIGH SCHOOL BLEACHERS
Some time ago, within a memory
deep in my dark, and most forbidden past,
when I recall your teaching only me,
there in the dark--with love that could not last!
Nor would we ever have such love today--
such great delight--but wicked from the start,
'tis in the past--and there must always stay,
but just a trace is here--to warm my heart;
so I can call--to mind--if late at night
when love seems not to be what love should be,
and I can feel in me, with great delight--
your love again--your lesson given me.
Here-in I be--still deep in love with you
the half-time of our love I'm going through.
© ron wilson arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
football
is all
crowd roars
kick soars
a pass
at last
man cave
men crave
cold ones
at once
demand
she panned
but serve
the beer
and chips
for dips
hubby
must pee
walks out
on lout
and shops
till drops
lonely
lady
returns
and learns
the lout
passed out
flat beer
oh dear
the game
now tame
half time
her time
clap hands
to bands
the game
what game!
I got a sonnet streak going strong here
not just Super Bowl weekend sonnets too
I’m writing more sonnets instead of beer
I’m writing this now other day wrote two
the Half Time Show is on in other room
I’m glad Baltimore is winning right now
Poe’s spirit may be giving Niners doom
after the game coaches be asking how?
this is how I am spending this weekend
to be honest writing more joy than game
poetry to me always been a trend
whatever I’m writing I don’t have shame
its been more sonnets than the Super Bowl
I can’t help it poetry calms my soul
Magis
Sent from East
With presents on hand
Wishing, walking with glued hand
By land traveled from Orient far
Praying, bowing before the mightiest Star
Never before in a lifetime
the World changed half-time
Like magic under spell
World rejoiced where true believers dwell
Two Nil.
I sit and watch the children
playing football in the street.
Look at me, shouts the referee
who runs with two left feet.
I'll get the ball shouts Lee Mac Call
I'll put it in the net.
Two Nil, shouts Bill, as it begins to rain
and everyone gets wet.
The whistle blows at half time
two goals as the ref shouts break for all.
Then in second half pass the ball to Garth
and let him try score a goal.
As expected, Mars failed to arrive on time for the games
Space travel is difficult, compromised for non existent beings
Speculations run high that the media would not favor the USA
News reporters speak on Martian matters and on their behalf
Always have their way in such arenas with no figures
It was zero zero at half time
No one expected more
The end triggered overtime
Zero zero continued into eternity
As expected, the fans love good competition
Everyone knows in their heart
Earth is better than Mars
We have people for starters
We wonder what will happen in time
The Winter Olympics are right around the corner
Who knows how far Mars will go to score
Will they do any better on the toboggan or the luge
The news reporters favor the USA as usual
Or is it Mars
We see a bunch of zeroes in their future
No matter who they are
My dreams were that of nothing but your kiss.
A lingering essence soothing frayed edges of my heart.
Heaven couldn’t breach the wonder of your touching
hands. They tickle memories invoked by the scent of your breath
against my cheek. This is but the taste I crave every night, every time
I feel days too long since you’ve returned the other half of my soul.
The awe and wonder will never cease, mated souls
Destiny declared to me, that our love and fated kiss
could bring forth in our lives eternities timeless
bliss. I never knew that which seemed to be a heartless
world would provide a love that would become my very breath;
for surely I would die each night if I couldn’t wake and touch
your beautiful lips. For they are but the substance that touches
me to this world. They spew forth the nectar that feeds my soul.
With you I am Queen Nivea, crowned in baby’s breath
about my brow. A midnight summer's eve of magic kissing
the air about our pallet. In sleep I hear our heart
strings shimmering our own melodious melody of half time.
In you arms my slumber is light, every time
you nuzzle my nape, asleep yourself, your touch
stirs my blood from half doze to a stuttered heart
soaring reach. It's the dust of twilight that moves soul
music through our heated blood. Your fluttered kisses
wafts into this hot dream to wake me with a fairies breath
riding my senses like white fire. Though our breathing
may be labored, this is not a frenzied moment, languish in time
and savor the bouquet of miracles brushing your moon kissed
back. Miracle that you are the only one who could soften my touch
from the warrior I tried to be. You alone brought life to a soulless
husk; the balm and solvent that softened my calloused heart.
Now fully aware I reach to find your heart
beat, and find it shuddering to the pace of my breath.
Caress the plane of my face and nape as our souls
unite. Whisper the language of lovers every time.
Just never stop this Shakespearean dream touched
eve, our very reality exist based on this kiss.
Though our hearts beat in all consuming time,
your the force of my breath. You are my grace touched
body of life, my soul, who feeds this void with a kiss.
Football brought shivers to folks in Three Rivers
With slivers of Fall in the air
And the crowd was excited but not so delighted
By weather more cloudy than fair
A player named Paul was the proudest of all
And he played for a team that was great
Yes he played for a team and the sake of a dream
To be known as the best in the State
The Bulldogs were bruisers more often than losers
And Paul's game was proving his worth
He was better each year with a dad who was clear
That his son was the finest on Earth
They were planning to squash all the boys from Mud Wash
A team that was zero and nine
But all of their scorn was like buckets of corn
To the 'Hogs who refused to be swine
The Mudhogs, in fact, we're not willing to act
Like a team that is tepid and weak
For the rain and the mud were the life and the blood
Of the boys when they played at their peak
With pride on the line and a reason to shine
All the Mudhogs were ready at last
But the half-time arrived and the 'Hogs that survived
Were dismayed by the two-quarters past
Now the Bulldogs who led by just three points ahead
Were convinced that the Mudhogs were done
But the ‘Hogs made it clear they had nothing to fear
From a team that was ranked number one
For the MudHogs to win they would have to begin
To disprove what the Bulldogs had said
So they fought with a strength that was better at length
By the way they came back from the dead
The fourth quarter came and the score was to blame
When the fans said the game was a dud
But a storm cloud appeared and the Mudhogs were cheered
By the downpour of rain and the mud
The Bulldogs were floored by the 'Hogs when they scored
And the latter were leading by four
But the Bulldogs were glad by the weather they had
When the grey sky turned sunny once more
Well the call went to Paul who was sure of it all
On a play that was first down and goal
And he knew they would win by the size of his grin
And the play of a team on a roll
The fans and their team were so ready to scream
With a second or two left to score
But Paul and his pass were reduced by the grass
That was fed by a 'Hog to a bore.
Who is the big winner of the game.
We watch to see who is the big name.
The truth can’t be denied,
that no matter the tide,
the half time commercial gets the fame.
© Feb 2011 For Royal's Super Bowl Limerick
Petrified pottery ponders plots. Ploys play putting purring. And a frantically fraternising pickle arch can glow on many a skyline at dusk. In many hues. Many dusks many arches many hues and many hues mean many hundreds and many hundreds mean invite to investment of innermost inherited insectivorous institutionalised ignorant ignoramus's ingots'. But glowing of an ear bug is common in a torque typed torture chamber and a chamber is not a champion nor a charred crispy cross crossed conifer. Camels that eat hard cheese are said to be better prophets than penguins on skateboards. Fornicating false frocks falsely fall. And a little black and grey horse was speaking kindly to a tiny ball of fur which turned out to be a mouse name but cat in shape and body. How rather cruel! And derogatory too. Yet the smirking slug like actions secreting slime of a prawn headed monster with many man tentacles' and tentacles are terror and definitely not treacle treading treats. Salivate not a big bit of pie then? Fir pie is a composition of sorts types and kinds and akin to a pulsating ball of confused idiosyncratic ideological wisdom of orders originating from a glass bottom jug which weighs forty two kilos and cost eleven cities, two million towns, twenty thousand small villages, and ten hamlets. These are in a deposit global zone. A whirl of supposed suppository suppers in stupors seen but senseless. It is wise to break a mould then to create a new work for the art show shower. And bathe before baking the perimeter of pie. For pie without radius is a ravishing radish reaching radii. And how polite is a polish then? No ha no x and a big x to it as well. And one should always dangle mirrored glasses while wearing a sun hat and riding a one centimetre bull down the tidal bores. Z refurbishment z at two hens to twenty one ducks at half time. Z
Super Bowel Half Time Rap Crap
Whole super bowel half time rap,
Was really a total bunch of crap;
Will not care;
A sad affair;
Resulting in humongous mishap.
Jim Horn