Best Neck And Neck Poems
A gauzy haze rises from the flickering gas light,
revealing the face of a blushing coquette.
Stepping through time in voluminous dress, bustled and bowed,
a petite silhouette.
She offers her hand to the handsome uniformed, callow cadet.
She moves with eloquence, poise and grace;
He, smitten by her charming demeanor, peaceful, porcelain, angelic face.
Flustered at first, heart pounding accepting his advances,
a gentle kiss and lingering embraces.
The afternoon brought festivities of equestrian competition.
Young cadets, eager to advance, entered to raise their rank and position;
His prowess boasted by the charm of his lady admirer's recognition.
She arrives in a brimmed bonnet, settling in her seat, vying for clear view;
Awaiting her chivalrous cavalier,
preparing, taking position, for the race to ensue.
A shot is fired, she sees him from afar,
waving his silk flag of gold, green and blue.
Gallant and proud, spurring his steady steed without yield.
Thunderous hooves in a cloud of dust, neck and neck as he rounds the field;
Pursing only, the love of his lady, and winning the coveted, golden shield.
February 6, 2017 For Stepping Through Time Contest, February 22, 2017
The devil in a moment of weakness did challenge a poet to a battle of words.
I HEAR YOU ARE AT THE TOP OF YOUR GAME
Said the devil to the poet.
NEVER HAVE TO WEAR A SWORD
Said the poet to the devil
CHALLENGERS' RULES I BELIEVE
Said the devil to the poet
AS LONG AS WORDS ARE OUR ONLY WEAPONS
Said the poet
THEN FOLLOW THESE RULES
Said the devil - "every bad word I use you must turn into good or negate it with another."
"You can use a two syllable word to link your word to mine if you need to."
"If your word trumps mine I will then try to turn your good words into bad"
AGREED Said the poet.
ONE MORE THING Said the devil
I HAVE TAKEN THE WORD LOVE OUT OF THE GAME - WILL YOU STILL AGREE
THAT STILL LEAVES ME WITH FAITH Said the poet
BUT WAIT, WHAT PRIZE ARE WE PLAYING FOR Said the poet
WE WILL JUST BE PLAYING FOR LOVE Said the devil giving a wink that
gave credit to his evil status.
I WILL SEND YOU PACKING BEFORE DAYLIGHT SO YOU CAN GET YOUR BEAUTY SLEEP Said the poet.
The devil placed his first word which was - UNFORGIVING.
The poet promptly trumped it with FORGIVING
Now it was the poets turn to start using the word - HEAVEN.
The devil responding took back his turn with HELL.
Neck and neck they raced on through the night.
Good matching bad and bad matching good.
With dawn fast approaching the devil took his last gamble.
BEAT THIS WORD AND THE PRIZE IS YOURS. Said he with glee.
Putting down the word which was INEVITABLE.
HA HA HA HE HE HE the devil cackled
I WILL SO ENJOY WATCHING LOVE DISAPPEAR FROM YOUR JUICY LITTLE HEART.
The poet gave a gentle bow as these two words he uttered
NOTHING IS
NOTHING IS WHAT barked back the devil
NOTHING IS INEVITABLE replied the poet as he picked up love and placed it close to his heart.
Whereupon the devil disappeared into a fog of fire and brimstone,
Wisely staying away from poets forever - just in case one should ever challenge him to take EVIL out of his game.
My brother, Lincoln Beachey, made my life a wonder,
Mother's eyes were full of him and loved how he was bold
I was the shadow elder son of a family in poverty's control
and struggled to to sustain them until my blind father's death.
In a grey world, Linc was bright colour caught on the fly
I felt drab and responsible but he dreamed of the sky.
Together we built airships and sailed upon the sky.
people lifted up their eyes and pointed up in wonder.
Then Orville flew and out of the blue, we began to fly.
we both were taught but I flew first, and I was not so bold.
It was almost suicidal but Lincoln feared not death
but I was timid, not like him, not nearly in control.
I flew straight, flat, low and slow tight grip on control
but Lincoln from the take off; it was like he owned the sky.
He danced on the air and I worried, fearing for his death.
Others tried to dance his dance and they died. No wonder
My brother always dared more, did more, forever bold.
Then grief for the dead filled him and no more could he fly.
He was sure it was his fault that they had died, so he did not fly
But like me they had lacked his nerves and his iron control.
They were others, the sky was full of men who were bold
Linc tried very hard not to fly but he soon went back to the sky
Then people came in thousands to see his latest wonder.
Flying low and slow I bumbled, crashed and came near death.
They saw him loop the loop for the first time and avoid death
He flew the thunder of Niagara's mists; where none had dared to fly
Then raced a car neck and neck, It was a screaming wonder
his plane howled inches over the drivers head, the finest of control.
Once he climbed his plane, until fuel was gone, high into the sky.
None had been higher and silently he glided down. That bold.
Over San Francisco bay he flew and still he was bold
Watched by thousands he seemed to tease death
then, suddenly, my ice cold brother fell from the sky
and I saw him smash into the water. No more to fly.
A wing strut had collapsed and he had no more control
and I lost my brother and it ended an era of wonder.
I am old now and look at the sky and I think of the unsung men who used to Fly
Those like me who were not bold and those who were. We all meet death
but we all look at the Control of a Lincoln Beachy and love all the wonder.
In competition, neck and neck
They held each other's pace.
The crowd was rooting silently
The whole entire race.
The both of them so well-prepared,
They'd practiced and they'd trained,
So every possibility
Their brains had entertained.
The final minutes soon approached
And I was thrilled to see
Both Vanya* and Gokul* were winners
Of the Spelling Bee!
*Vanya Shivashankar and Gokul Venkatachalam
were declared co-winners of the 2015
Scripps National Spelling Bee last night.
The Reluctance of the Young Runner
by Edmund Siejka
He was a gawky teenager
On a high school track team
Intimidated by his coach
Who exercised almost total control
Over him.
He was examined
Tested
Questioned what he ate
How much he weighed
It became too much to bear
That he couldn’t tell anyone you
How lonely he felt.
Running at a track meet
Neck and neck for third place
The finish line seemed unreachable
His parents, watching from crowded bleachers,
Were proud
Impatiently calling out his name
When suddenly he fell
Tripping over some unknown thing lying on the track.
Falling, his long legs cascaded over the white lines of the track
Colliding with the front runner
Who had the looks of an actor
And the temperament of a snake.
The coach was angry
Thick fingers pummeled the young runner’s chest
Because he fell
The team was disappointed
Not so much for him
But for the lead runner
Who struggled to third place.
Facing dismissal from the team
An inner smile caressed the young boy’s heart
No more coach, no more watching
Waves of relief gently cascaded over him
Bringing with it
A sudden realization
That he would no longer
Have to hide.
Battling straight from the gate again today; flesh as
Spirit neck and neck down time's back stretch ? Historia's
Derby goo goo girls google boys; holding their collective breath
While His child flys with golden wings transcending to grasp the sky....
Beelzebube's banshees clinging tight joculars night red rums plight the price ?
Baby digging in taking all their sin; hitting stride on a midnight ride shifting gears
To gather these tears ? Pulling away towards Love's, Holy Day tongues wagging big birds lagging.
Republicans Are Really a Rip (Rest In Peace)
Took a jab at Jeb
Who might be a Johnny Reb
Should he ebb and ebb?
Full of ridicule
Candidates can be a fool
Mind has a loose tool.
Leaving things a wreck
Not playing with a full deck
Running neck and neck.
Down path we were led
Vote for Hilary instead
Hear what she has said.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Neck and neck,
Could taste something new,
And was rejected.
Because I was good,
Too good at something else.
She was a nobody,
Reaching for something she never had,
Respect.
I got nothing,
Even though I gave everything I had.
My body,
My heart,
My being entirely.
I thought I deserved it,
Everyone thought I did,
But I guess not.
I deserve to be nothing more
than a pawn,
Commanded by the major.
two horses sprinting
neck and neck along the straight
yea i’m winning ~ neigh
By
David Kavanagh
My colour is that of a summer sky
With a few fluffy clouds just floating by.
The lake lays blue below the mountain still;
Much peace and calmness these waters instil.
From this shore a Bluebird was launched and flew
At breathtaking speed across the surface, blue.
In popular culture I’d sing the blues
If you dare to tread on my blue suede shoes.
At Easter–time a rivalry plays out
Upon the Thames in long and narrow boat,
A race ’tween college Blues, nine men afloat
With straining oars : neck and neck, or a rout ?
So, once in a blue moon, out of the blue,
There are so many blues of many’a hue.
Its the final day
At the US Masters
This Highlander
Enjoying new pastures
Recently turned pro
Leader-board he tops
As he partners Tiger
Playing brilliant shots
Eagle, birdie
Birdie, par
With play like this
He's sure to go far
Neck and neck
On the seventeenth
This Highlander
Needs to be seen
Par 4,
440 yards
He hits a screamer
Crowd applauds
Tiger matches
They both hit the green
Both down in three
Birdies mean
The eighteenth
Green Jacket beckons
Who will win it
Tiger i reckon
What a drive
By Tiger woods
Down the middle
As professionals should
The Highlander, lovely swing
Ball flying, hear that ping
Cross wind carries, fairway missed
The crowd in awe, Tiger bliss
Tiger excels, gets down in three
One inch form the hole, a gimme
The Highlander, iron picked
Sweet shot, hit so slick
See it rise, towards its goal
On to the green towards the hole
Undulations, impede it none
As it drops in, under the Georgia sun
The Highlander, awaits the crowd
Nano second, applause out loud
This newly pro, who found it tough
Newly named
Diamond in the Rough
My entry to Nathans " Diamond in the Rough " contest.
Wow 5th place
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/sport.php
I’m a dead muse walking, stuck in a queue
moving along slowly, spreading out too
A worm wriggles past, looking worse for wear
was caught in a hailstorm, guts everywhere
I'm a dead muse crawling, stuck fast in glue
caught up with the worm, he leaked so much goo
We're neck and neck, near the exit gate
I patch up his wounds, then use him for bait
I'm a dead muse fishing, snagging old reeds
the worm's in awful shape, each segment bleeds
I let him off the hook, just to take a rest
he looks juicy, but in truth not the best
I'm a dead muse starving, no appetite
can't find a stanza never mind a bite
And that poor li’l wiggler, I let him go
into the hailstorm, oops no, stupid crow!
By
David Kavanagh
Race Is Neck and Neck
Race is neck and neck;
Write most poems we do suspect;
Hope all are correct.
What I mean is there is a hot race between Position 4 and 5
in Poetry Soup regarding most poems written.
President Who Is An Albatross.
When in White House we
Came across a President,
Who was an albatross.
When we will see him,
Ourselves cross and say God save us
From the albatross.
Jim Horn
An institution for the average man and also for the Toff
The gun blasts, the gates fly open. They’re off.
Eight magnificent Steeds already to win the race.
Trampling all before them, galloping at full pace.
Jeremiah takes the lead, closely followed by Your Grace.
Simply Simon at his heels, True Tess is gaining a place.
Here comes My Hero, a grand, black stallion gaining on the pack.
Flight Steward, Flame and Conroy are positioned at the back.
Stampeding round the bend, bulleting on the outside
True Tess the small grey filly, taking the lead with pride.
Manes flying in the wind here comes Conroy flying round the pack.
Now in second place, the odds thought him to be a hack.
Clumps of turf take flight from the pounding of the hooves.
Horses surging forward at an almighty pace, none wanting to lose.
Jockeys standing upright, leaning forward smashing their whips.
Jeremiah responds to the whip with an almighty lunge and trips.
The horse recovers, but all others pass him by, at least he wasn’t hurt.
Joyful screams from the punters as each horse puts on a spurt.
Simply Simon trapped against the rails pushes his way between a gap.
Racing with the pack, hurtling against the wind the jockey loses his cap.
Its anyone’s race as the galloping group head into the straight
There’s a oneness between each horse and its Jockey mate.
Wails from the crowd are heard, some had bet just on spec.
The crowd are on their feet as two horses are neck and neck.
The thunder of their hooves sending sparks My hero crosses the line.
A whisker in front of Tess. A photo finish sends tingles down my spine.
My ticket says Tess To Win, the track is silent for results of the race
The Marshall makes the announcement. Its my Hero in 1st place.
Sponsor Brian Strand
Contest Name A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE no 1219 -- 23 May2023
Censorship’s alive and well
In Dickson, Tennessee,
Whose Roxy Theater advertised
Upon its proud marquee:
“Heckboy,” playing there beside
Both “Dumbo” and “Shazam.”
Of course, there’s no such movie
And that title is a sham.
The owner thinks profanity
Should not be on the sign,
So “Hellboy” was a name that she
Decided to refine.
To me, there’s not much difference
In those words; they’re neck and neck,
But such censorship implies this country’s
On its way to Heck.