Best Horseplay Poems
In the world without you
Under the shade of trees
Or on the surface of Grass
People bathe the sunshine
Or have horseplay or chat
A world you left behind
While it is in someone"s mind,
Your eyes saw the scene being
So much kindness in the land
The posterity of your time is
And the priority of them comes
A world without you standing
In the crowd and singing
Wanders your soul and mind
Among the trees or across the hill
With innocence being made
And appealing being denied
Each willingness running happily
Even when the butterfly dancing
In the air and in the flowers
Your lover's murmurs heard
For your absence by eyes
And your being around by hearts
?
In peace he left his lodge, and reverently he trod,
the way his mother shown the way from youth he'd known.
To connect with all there was, as his family slept he played.
he played to the great white spirit God, with thanks in the
melody, from memory's shared of successfull hunting days,
he thought of his child at play,and his wife with her sun toned
skin, of beads here, she'd braided for him. He thought of tommorow's
trail the inevitable (moving day) on the rolling prairie hills, and
the coming winter ( still ) of the laughter and horseplay there would
be along the way, sending out the breath that the spirit gave back
in his wafting praise. He remembered the forward scouts out under
the open skies, and the owl of the grasslands cry, he asked that the
way be free of eyes of enemies. Human Son of peace, at peace in
the forests half sleep.
for Constance La France's His story contest, written by Joe Maverick.
Hearts hear happiness breathing
Heavenly hope free of grieving
Hesitating a healing hearth leading
Home that happens to be heaving
Harm that has heard the pleading
Haunting hastening toward the meaning
Horse and buggy that hauls a load
Handles the hollow form of the code
Heartened heart who has always rode
Hoarded heavily inside their abode
Hoping to heal the heartiest ode
Having hopefulness which has flowed
Hallucinating a haven that might explode
Horseplay which leaves all of creation
Hope of a second chance to avoid temptation
Heaven happens to heal every relation
Hastening us all to last through the duration
Hues of angelic halos remind us of salvation
Alliteration Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
December 6, 2020
I was working cattle with a crew a little south of Muleshoe,
When I watched a horse work with perfection and grace.
I said "pardon me gent, no offense is meant,
But your horse is the smartest thing on this place."
He broke out in a grin and scratched at his chin,
“Name is Bob, I'll tell you the story if you've the time."
I looked at the crew and said "We're about through,
You can tell me over tequila and lime."
"My grandpappy , Jason , was from the Permian Basin
And cowboy'd where it was dusty and hot.
And I'll tell you son when it's all said and done,
That bunch from Odessa was a hard gamblin’ lot
"Now three fingered Willy owned a stud and a filly
And played poker whenever he could.
One day Willy met Jason, from the Permian Basin,
And they locked in a game of seven card stud.
"Things had gone badly and Willy looked sadly
At the money he had left on the table.
He could ante it all, but couldn't raise or call,
So he offered the stud from his stable.
"Now the stud's name was Gyp, smart as a whip,
And he was standing just outside the door.
Willy treated him like dirt and hit him with a quirt,
So the thought of a new owner pleased Gyp for shore.
"And so there was Jason, from the Permian Basin,
Holding two Aces, two jacks, a Queen and a Four.
Willy wasn't saying which cards he was playing,
But Gyp could see three Kings through the door.
"He had to act fast if he was ever to get past
Being treated like an old worn out shoe.
He burst through the door, knocked the lamp on the foor
And nuzzled Jason as past him he flew.
"After Gyp was gone and the lights came back on,
Jason looked at the cards he was holdin'.
Gyp had given him a third Ace and he settled it in place,
And knew Willy would certainly be foldin'.
"So Gyp teamed with Jason from the Permian Basin,
And he sired many a colt in his time.
The one I am ridin', there just ain't no hidin,
Is as smart as Gyp was in his prime.
“How did Gyp get that Ace that he put into place?
I get asked that question wherever I go.
I think you'll agree that Gyp was smarter than me
So I always answer "How the hell should I know?' "
Well, I listened to the story in all of its glory
And drank my tequila with lime.
I live in Texas, it's true, and I think like you do,
Now I guess I've heard it all in my time!
August 26, 2016
For Contest Unhinged
There’s Father’s Day
There’s Mother’s Day
Why can’t there be Brother’s Day
Maybe in the month of May
Set it up without delay
A Brother’s Day
Mom and Dad would probably say
A brother always gets his way
On Brother’s Day
Where would all his sisters stay?
Why – far away
On Brother’s Day
Lunch would be a big subway
Eaten at a small café
On Brother’s Day
And Mom and Dad would be OK
With dinner on a TV tray
On Brother’s Day
Dinner maybe fish fillet
As his entree
On Brother’s Day
Or maybe something done flambé
Anything in big display
On Brother’s Day
And maybe an ice cream buffet
Or a big parfait
On Brother’s Day
And maybe he would get to play
With modeling clay
On Brother’s Day
Or a game of old croquet
Munching Frito-lay
On Brother’s Day
And you can bet there’s be horseplay
Full blown chaos – no halfway
On Brother’s Day
No cutesy pie in no beret
No Tutu from no ballet
On Brother’s Day
No girlie-girls with their hairspray
They can all just sashay
On Brother’s day
Every brother would hooray
If they could waylay
A Brother’s Day
It’s no cliché
Brothers everywhere will pray
For Brothers’ Day
My neice has 4 kids - 3 girls and a boy and the little guy was feeling left out and
wanted to know when Brothers Day.
The River of Life flows on (poem)
We all remember our ups and downs, and our smiles to our frowns.
It is beautiful like a crown, a crown upon a woman, wearing a gown, but will always be let down.
Life flows like a river, from being heated to getting a shiver, and it is majestic as a wiver.
The birds continue to fly, high up in the sky, and the children wonder why, why the children cannot fly.
A country of peace, and all in ease, while some have to lease. Lease their home, always seemed gloam, as they always cover themselves with chrome.
Life flows like a river, from the glamorous sky to the repugnant ground, and it can be worse with a frown.
It can be like a play, being played in the broadway, as these actors pray.
Pray to saints day, but they always see their lord as a portrait, while their children horseplay in their school hallway.
Life flows like a river, while all may not be a giver, but they can give up their liver.
And so it flows, the river goes, and life continues to glow.
Fin
Silence As Friend
by Odin Roark
We noisy ones
From bathinette ducky splash
To deep end cannonball flood
Passing from school yard horseplay
To boardroom P & L tantrums
The journey seems long
Knowing well
Noise receives attention
And encouragement
Just as hate remains impatient
Love
Like winter snowfall
Clings to trees and branch
Awaiting exhaustion before
Absorbance reaches its time
Such is the quietude of arrival
Where stormy expression
Finally worn of course
Renders our epiphany clear
Sometimes
We learn too late
The need to quiet the self
Discover that inner peace
Where noises of life
Skittle to ground
Mere timpani-tainted dust specks
Needing only to retire their chaos
Often
For others
The finding of such stillness
Is to know the healing quietness
Of inner tears coating our wounds
Flooding liquid light into heretofore darkness
Relegating shadows into the wings
The fortunate
Surround themselves
With arrival’s hush
While many of habitual clinging
Continue to fill the void with noise
Having yet to discover
Silence as friend
After the dreary, dismal cold days of winter,
Bogged down by mounds of snow,
Chicago, the indomitable city,
Dogged by ears-flapping, bone-chilling winds,
Emerges like a blooming flower
Fostering liveliness, sensuality,
Gaiety and grandiose funfair.
Hot, sizzling and sassy summer aside;
Invigorating spring first arrives and
Jogging along the Lakefront trail or
Kicking a soda can down the Magnificent Mile,
Life finally emerges from its winter cocoon.
Mona Lisa smiles and bright eyes fleeting by,
Night life promises a charm of its own with
Outdoor patios where cooing lovers linger,
Pandering to fans of performing arts and swanky music.
Quotidian lives turn into jostling horseplay,
Ravishing beds of fragrant shrubs adorn the sidewalks.
Spring in Chicago is vivaciously volatile,
Temperature, as it rises, so does people's spirits,
Under the shadows of imposing skyline or
Viewing the serpentine Lake Shore Drive up from
Willis Tower's Skydeck, Chicago appears, oh,
Xtra beautiful – A spring's paradise!
Yellow magnolias, richly painted and sweetly fragrant,
Zestfully vying with vibrant clusters of tulips.
~"A Spring Abecedarian" Contest by Shadow Hamilton
~02/19/2015
He walked with a swagger,
a delinquent lagger and recidivist wagger
all his schoolboy days.
Joyridin on the Pare’ bus
he’d skylark and cuss just like one of us
as was his way always.
He was undeniably cool
but did piss off at school and play the fool
from bell to ringin bell.
Widely well liked as a peer
and but for the odd jeer had nothin to fear
but many a tale to tell.
He oft sat ready in class
but mostly half ar-se and exams barely pass
and interest feign.
Almost always in a scrape
lookin to mock or ape or some dare or jape
and felt a swingin cane.
He did the flyin fox fling
and legs and arms cling on the rope swing
with collidin force.
For dear life hands hangin,
blokes fallin and clangin into bodies bangin
on the Confidence Course.
He was a hurler of eggs
and till someone begs did charlie their legs
but it was all in fun.
A water bomb he’d let fly
when he’d up on high ambush a passer-by
abscondin on the run.
He under the gym below
with his friends in tow did hide and stow
lest they all be found.
Then one guy in the loop
dived through a hoop and the rest swoop
should it fall down.
He at lunch hour stood
all dutiful and good but not as he should
policin the tuck shop.
As monitor it was his job
to calm the unruly mob but not tell or dob
suckin on his lollipop.
He climbed out on a limb
and broke into the gym lettin his friends in
loadin up the bar.
Squattin and pressin away
liftin in the weight bay till fun and horseplay
went a step too far.
He was a classroom pest
out of uniform dressed on his own quest
and always in strife.
But in his heart he knew
what he needed to do lest bedlam ensue
and his foolin run rife.
He was a master pranker,
some say a wanker but he did hanker
for somethin more.
Girls thought him sweet
and fell at his feet goin crazy for Skeet
but his spell had no cure.
Written: February 2018
The Wind howls and the rain pours onto the Perspex sheeted roof
The rain seems to be chasing me as if trying to find proof
Proof that this day has finally arrived with no escape route in sight
My life, My family, All under the heavy and bright spotlight
The last few days have been tough and sometimes grim
Sometimes it feels like I am drowning and unable to swim
Your breath ripped away by the tide which is fueled by gods wrath
How can life be so cruel, is our god we speak about a sociopath!
Its then I remembered why we are all standing there in the wet!
The memories are strong, good and I will never forget
The world suddenly seems brighter, no escape route needed
The seas are calm and gods wrath soon becomes unheeded
The final march of your blessed life is today
I have all been lucky to have been involved in your hysterical horseplay
Stories of you playing football as a child to the one with the tractor tyre,
You and your friends up the mountain pretending to be guns for hire
Yes, the rain will fall today and on future days and the seas will rise
But these found memories of my bampi will help me survive
My last gift to you bamp, is to make sure you get to the church on time
And for us all to support your wife, my nan, as she begins the steep climb
Brian Strand - 'STANDARD NO 120,ANY FORM,ANY THEME,UPTO A MAX OF 20 lines' Poetry Contest
Bidets may have a waterspout
So girls can wash the babies out
But water spray
Creates horseplay
If something's fishy, it's not trout!
You call my line I'll be there in no time. You're so one of a kind anything for my dime. All the ones before you were just a waste of my time. But with you its different and i cant believe that you're mine. You're the bonnie to my Clyde. You're the electric to my slide. And I'm loving your intelligence and love the way you ride. Plus i love the way you smile. The way you walk it drives me wild. Anytime that im around you i cant help but get all riled. See i'm no fool. Because what's cool is you let me treat you right. But when I'd try it Out with them other broads miss independent would fight. You needn't think of me stepping out cuz I'm with you every night. So every time that i leave out please dont be like. ( Everytime You go)
So I stopped the horseplay. Stopped the crimes. Grabbed a job and pulled overtime. Stopped overthinking bout looking fly. And focused on just me and mine. Then I sat sown and took the time. To go overdrive on my book of rhymes. Now aint that a real good reason for you to stop replying? (Everytime You go)Can't you see. You're my Chi I'm your Hidaki. All these other broads really want a G. I dont really want them little thots touching me. I only want it to be you and I. I know the punk boys before me made you cry. Everytime i think about it all I do is sigh. And show you a better life. At least I try. Now the reason for all of the things I've shown. Is I don't run with the pack I stand alone. Cuz when your back is turned all they do is jone. And make fun of the fact that you're in the zone. We don't need them girl we good on our own. We're just gonna sit back and sip patron. So stop thinking i aint coming home.(Everytime you go)
Why is everybody hating on me,
I’m just a poor white guy,
very ordinary
I live in the same neighborhood as you,
I ride on the same buses you do
Go to work everyday
for the same minimum wage too
So why is everybody hating on me,
I’m your friendly neighborhood Nazi
I only got good hate
for people who don’t look like me
I was born in a lily white state,
and lived on the poorest side of town
Learned early on from my parent’s fate,
trailer trash is always getting blown around
We were forced to move to the dark side,
economy don’t much care about race
Our alt right views we made sure to hide,
courtesy of not having a colored face
Now why is everybody hating on me,
I’m just a big fan of white supremacy
Went on a midnight march just the other night,
the white cone on my head sure felt kinda tight
Everybody in the crowd was real rowdy nice,
beat a few people up who weren’t too polite
We were loud, letting our voices be heard,
we were proud, spitting out four letter turds
I didn’t physically hurt nobody though,
but some of my friends got a bit carried away
Throwing yellow snowballs at car windows,
wasn’t nothing but harmless KKK horseplay
We were waving our Nazi flags
with spirit and vigor
We were tilting the brown bags,
full of moonshine liquor
Nobody got too white lightning mean,
we were just some good ole boys
letting off a little steam
So why is everybody so hating on me,
I’m just a token neighborhood Nazi
When outnumbered, I’m as friendly as can be,
my parents didn’t raise them no white dummy
Hey Joey, why the long face?
Hey Rusty, why the long face?
Hey Blacky, why the long face?
Hey Sue, why the long face?
Hey June, why the long face?
Hee Hee Hee hee
Hey Hey
Joey Rusty
why why
the the
long long
face? face?
Hey Hey
Blacky Sue
why why
the the
long long
face? face?
Hey June
why the long face?
Horseplay On Words...
You sure like to stirrup trouble.
Giddy up Blacky on the double.
Is it pasture bedtime Joey?
Stop horsing around Blacky!
When spring's in the air, teachers cringe,
students' attention on the fringe.
Young minds on love, at least on like,
others just take a mental hike.
Required courses, long about May
invite clown acts, at least horseplay.
When pupils fail to meet your eye,
Are they asleep? or did they die?
Assignment made, Keats' Grecian Urn.
Write anything that you have learned.
Cheap pens, a dollar a dozen,
kept my English lit class buzzin'.
Class clown provided not a few
then he showed some tricks they could do.
When pens abound with certain flair
this teacher found - springs in the air.
written 03/03/18