Best Phelps Poems


Premium Member The Olympic Swimmer

What thing seems to make men King Kong?
It lies under Michael Phelps’ thong
With each stroke of grace
See a free style freebase
That huge bulging spot is a bong
Categories: phelps, satire, sports
Form: Limerick

Her Sorrows

She's in the cut, with a different kind of fabric 
She earns minimum wage, but her Instagram is lavish 
Trust me I don't know how she keeps the balance 
Probably got a married man who injects cash in her balance 
That's why it's not a challenge
Until he gets tired of her and he beats with her belt 
Now she's drowning in her tears, and hoping for a Michael Phelps
He raped her, he thought he owned her just because he provided the paper 
She couldn't go to the police station 
They are going to tell her she deserved it
Her friends are just as bad, they're serpents
Now she feels dirty, she's seeking for detergent
She wanted to do tests, the public hospital doctor told her it wasn't urgent 
When she finally did, she found out she got AIDS
Too embarrased to use ARVs, so she started counting her days 
Months went by, she wasn't rocking Christian Dior anymore
Gave herself to the Lord, she was a Christian who decided to read more 
Took those ARVs, and started building a life 
Started stitching up the wounds and pulling out the knives 
That doesn't make it better though, she's still another statistic 
If you heard how many women were raped on a daily you'd go ballistic 
They tell them that their skirts are too short 
Then they look at her in disgust when she has to abort
Happens again and again, because the perpetrator know he ain't going to court
Categories: phelps, abuse, rap,
Form: Dramatic Verse

If Chronic Pain Were Olympic Sport

'If chronic pain were Olympic sport'

Morning shocks me with a jolt
Night time flies like Usain Bolt
If dream of sleep were 'lympic pride
My pain within I'd win not hide
If feeling tired, was winning gold 
My chronic illness medal hold
We would be there chasing Mo
If energy won at being low

If 'pushing through' meant top of game 
And trembling hands meant pride and fame 
If migraine vice meant all things nice 
And neck strain drain meant King of pain
If winning crunch was base of spine
Or BP drop that renders blind
We would excel Olympic pride
Where no one you love would dream you 'lied'
They'd even know it's genes so fate
They'd say 'I believe' not 'you exaggerate'

If feeling drained was strong like Phelps
Where tiredness reigns and brain fog helps 
POTS fatigue, compression nylons
Clunky shoulders easy bronze
If Olympian meant broken bowel
We'd feel their pain, lay on beach towel 
For every day we feel that burn 
From joints all round and stomach churn
If chronic pain were Olympic pride
We'd win hands down, in bed would hide
Categories: phelps, how i feel, inspiration,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Sports

Basketball is fun.
I can play as a point guard, 
A shooting guard and
Dunk the ball like Kobe Bryant.

Boxing is also my interest.
Although it's a dangerous sport,
I like to see two top fighters
Pacquiao versus Mayweather, Jr.

Although I'd like to try a gulf game,
Playing a ball is too expensive
And only Tiger Wood
Can afford.

Swimming is the best sport.
In just two days,
I lost weight.
Now I'm like Michael Phelps.

All these sports
Maintain my fitness levels.
Without proper training & discipline,
I will lose in a game.
Categories: phelps, sports
Form: Free verse

Westboro Baptist Church Member At a Funeral

Westboro Baptist Church Member At A Funeral 

By Elton Camp

A sign he held and tee shirt wore
Same as he went to funerals before

Mourners gathered around the grave
To him, some outraged looks gave

While they were dressed all in black
He had “God Hates You” front & back

The poster he lifted these words did tell
In large, red print it read, “Rot In Hell”

He reacted with the greatest of surprise
At the looks he saw in the mourner’s eyes

“How you folks feel, I really don’t care
To funerals, this is what I always wear.”

One pointed out the name on the headstone
That showed the identify of the one gone

When a gander the man did take
He realized his horrible mistake

Fred Phelps was the dead man’s name
Westboro Church Founder was the claim

He took his sign and slipped away
He’d use it again some other day

But more carefully he’d investigate
Just who it is he intends to berate
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: phelps, humor,
Form: Rhyme

Theres a Fly In My Soup

As I sit and try to imagine,
I look and find another distraction,
find there's a fly in my poetry soup,
quite like a Michael Phelps swimming laps
around like an Olympian champion,
he must think he's pretty cool
using my bowl of soup like a swimming pool,
as I disdainfully sit here and watch him
while drinking my glass of coke,
he swims figure 8's and alternates
between freestyle and the backstroke,
once again I try to think of a poem verse
as the fly swims and winks at me, what nerve!
then he slows down and does the doggie paddle
looking like he's treading the soup waters for awhile,
finally he stops and looks mercifully at me,
and as he goes under I count to three,
the fly in my soup is finally gone,
once again I can concentrate and carry on.
Categories: phelps, humor, insect, symbolism,
Form: Light Verse


A Walk To Freedom

A Walk to Freedom

Nelson 'Madiba' Mandela,
Needless I say more.
But 'cos I need scribble 'bout a gross words,
I'll erupt the plain white stadium with my trusted 'vuvuzela'.

What's life without heartbreaks?
What are roses without thorns?
What's a party without cakes?
What're doughnuts without holes?

Closing in on freedom,
Its walk is always punctuated with checkpoints of boredom,
The journey has a 'Merlin-like' setting,
No cars, no tarred roads, just fretting and sweating.

But never be afraid to run out of ideas,
For you'd gain perserverance.
Never be afraid to jump into conclusion,
For only then would you tinker on the solution.

Don't be scared of swimming against the tide,
For through this, Michael Phelps is known worldwide,
Don't be scared of losing track of time,
For Usain Bolt jumped the gun in his first race twice.

When do I sit on the fence?
When do I take the stand?
Questions pouring out your mind's lens,
Which only a freedom's walk will make you understand.
Categories: phelps, adventure, blessing, cheer up,
Form: Rhyme

Asteroid Belts

9/10/16


Polar ice caps continue to melt
Below asteroid belts
And above beds of kelp

Materials being smelt
Hyped up and stocked across the shelf

Better focus on your health
As much as, if not more than you do with wealth

Keep swimming, you don't have to be as good as Phelps
Near and far from kelt
And areas inhabited by elk
As well as crops, few of which may have been spelt

Close and beyond where people dwelt
Many toiled and prayed while they knelt

With all the hands I was dealt
Always tried to handle them myself
Because I didn't like to ask for help
From anyone else

Finally saw her, she was wearing felt
And her intentions were heartfelt/ And a traditional dress considered Welsh

By: Dalton Ogletree
Categories: phelps, poetry, rap, word play,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Michael's Final Olympics

The Louvre debuted an exhibit today:
Cascading Marbles of Ripples and Folds.
In waves came patrons in trenches to see
what secrets David, the masterpiece, holds;

Each stroke of genius from Michelangelo,
memories written by one fountain pen.
The stories of glory reflected in mirrors,
standing on mantels as sculptures - not men;

Below, the crests are eagerly waiting
to swim with artists whose tributes remind:
Of time, friends, and even love sacrificed,
with hopes that they may be honored in kind.

Immortal cocoons that blossomed to gold,
butterflies all, confident, hold steady,
their backs are pressed with spotlighted silver,
adrenaline flowing now as they ready:
Greek gods embossed with streamed streaks of bronze,
on cliffs of Olympus, peer at the sea;	

Then, from the silence, a shrill piercing scream –
     Michael Phelps gives chase to one final dream.


8/10/2016
Submitted for Contest:  Olympic Mania
Categories: phelps, inspiration,
Form: Quatrain

My Last Sweetheart

All good things come to an end
And this is my last gymnastics sweetheart for now
Until another gymnast comes along
And steals my heart away like each one of the five
My fifth gymnastic sweetheart is Jaycie Phelps! 

Now she didn't become one of my sweethearts
Until I read her story in a book about "The Mag Seven"
And read about her never-say-quit attitude. 

If there was a Cinderella story in gymnastics
Well I guess her story would rank up there at the top
Because she almost quit the sport completely back in 1993
But she stuck with it and now look at what she's become
A member of the U.S. gold medal gymnastics team "The Mag Seven"
The first time a team from the U.S. has tasted gold ever! 

She didn't go on to any of the Individual events
But she still helped out the team win the gold
With solid performances in the team optionals. 

Now I hope that she can stick with it
And fight through the pain that she feels everyday
Because I would love to see her try out for the 2000 Olympics!
Categories: phelps, sports,
Form: Free verse

Westboro Baptist Church To Picket At Sandy Hook

Westboro Baptist Church to Picket at Sandy Hook

By Elton Camp

“Westboro will picket Sandy Hook Elementary School to sing praise to God for the glory of his work in executing his judgment,” Shirley Phelps-Roper tweeted on Dec. 15.

Westboro Baptist Church is at it again
Praising their god for punishing sin

“God is love” the Bible does say
But they refuse to have it that way

The god they worship is strange to me
The one from the Bible he cannot be

Bible:  Each one for his own sins will die
To execute the innocent God won’t try

Twenty children a lunatic did kill
Did that crime give God a thrill?

A secular nation gays does tolerate
Does that bring on all God’s hate?

A theocracy the US has never been
It need not try to ban religious sin

I agree gay conduct to God is wrong
To the state its banning doesn’t belong

Yet here they come to picket a school
All will indignantly say, “What a fool”
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: phelps, hate, religion, god, bible,
Form: Rhyme

Forgotten

Around me are whispers in the wind,
Promises for another time and day;
Sunlight slips around my shoulder,
Warmth, feeling its way.

Will I know the time of wind,
Or let it slip right through my hands?
Promises forgotten, misplaced,
Buried beneath the blowing sands.

©2014, Carla Phelps Wert
Categories: phelps, emotions, loss,
Form: Free verse

It's Not Me This Time

It's like I can't do anything right 
Like everything I do deserves a fight
Is it because I am wrong 
Like slow dancing to a really fast song
Or is it because I try to make peace 
But all of our money has just been released 
Living check to check is the best way to struggle 
Since I talk to much I may need a muzzle
But will shutting me up really help?
Like smoking weed did to Michael Phelps
I don't think I'm really the issue 
Just a target to aim your missile
When the smoke clears what is left?
Just a kid who is scared to death 
Maybe I don't think I will die
But to say I'm not tire is just a lie
And I don't want to lie about me 
Stop saying I'm the problem and you will see...
It's not me, this time
Categories: phelps, family, teen, me,
Form: Rhyme

Lost

Let the games begin, may the best swimmer win, so is the tale at inception.
Unlike Michael Phelps, we are no geniuses at backstrokes.
It's a miracle, out of millions of possible combinations, we even won the race.
Just imagine a field of billions of people that all look the same, it's crazy right. But is it really though.
So mysterious is the miracle of life that everyone is different but yet we are all uniquely the same.
Superficially the mould may look different, white, black, yellow, green whatever. but strip away the skin the blueprint is I am.
It's crazy in away we sort the mysterious ways elsewhere, when it's right infront of us.
It's on our friend, it's permanently glued on us, it's on our enemies, it's everywhere,  just take a look in the mirror or the person next to you, that reflection, that image is I am.
But despite being so lucky, out of all creation to wear the god image, the image of love, the image of Peace, the image of everything good.
Yet despite being the walking image of I am, somehow we are anything but evil, the chief engineers of doom, talk of Abuse, bigotry, corruption,  genocides, wars, the dictionary is long and endless.
What have we become, only the face maker knows.
Categories: phelps, abuse, bullying, child abuse,
Form: Blank verse

Swimming

Swimming is freedom.
You lose yourself in the moment, 
It’s like a dream you can’t remember;
To understand, you had to have done it. 

You don’t have to be Phelps to swim.
Swim to achieve a victory.
Your team lost, but you earned a PR. 
You just wrote your own history.

The pool creates waves. 
But you can, too.
The water offers a cool embrace
In its frigid and icy blue.

I’ve been told that you can either sink or swim.
Why is “sink” even a choice?
Swimming is my escape from the day.
Swimming is my voice.
Categories: phelps, sports, voice, water,
Form: Rhyme
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