Best Players Poems
Let me tell you a story…
A story about life, where Solitude gracefully glides into the room, wearing a loose fitting gown, draping her curvaceous form. Piously she takes her place at the table of life, she is surrounded by Faith, Hope, Despair, Vision, Reality, and Fantasy. Furtive Destiny is seated at the head of the table, shrouded in mystery.
Faith is subdued, radiant, gracious and kind. Her reassuring smile gives life and courage to Hope. They share a unique friendship, if either of them departs, the other becomes reclusive.
Hope shines in the spotlight with Faith. She dazzles with magic tricks; lighthearted yet fragile. She holds her breath so often I fear one day she may not catch it. Optimistic Faith, reminds Hope to breathe in and breathe out.
Despair, clad in a dark cloak; averts his sullen glassy eyes. His temerity threatens and blind sights the spirit of Faith and Hope; vulnerable and frightened they reach out to Vision.
Vision is creative, casting Faith and Hope in life’s productions; drawing back the curtain of blindness, revealing hopeful possibilities.
Reality, a disciplinarian. He is strong and terse; building strength on the bedrock of truth. Discerning facts, sorting out fiction.
Fantasy, a flighty temptress, playfully teases Reality who becomes uncomfortable; secretly he admires her, especially when Destiny leaves the room.
Destiny holds the key to life’s fate. Confident and at times unforgiving; she never plays favorites. Wise, with the knowledge she solely possesses the power of our tomorrows. Reality is her soulmate, keeping a harmonious balance. There is talk they are involved, but Destiny does not reveal her private life.
Date: April 19, 2022
For: Form N - Narrative - New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Theme: Life
Grammar verified on P.S. Grammar check
Placed 1st in contest
Sun scatters splendid splendors in utter silence
Flowers shed their pure fragrance without any aim
Never once they never trumpet their excellence
Real wisdom, real merits acquires great fame.
The moon maps her magic hue in silent midnight
Wind swept in melodious tone scenting surprise
Ever did they ever boost their mettlesome might?
Never fool can ever shine bruiting his own praise.
ghostly beluga whales
shy and discerning
hide out in coves
manatees giggle their secrets
their calves are frisky and open
dolphins swim toward the boats
making friends with everyone
sharks wait for lunch
hoping to catch a whiff of blood
With Henry in my arms, we watched
The soccer players kick.
He laughed at every move they made -
Deliberate or quick.
He couldn't understand, of course,
(He's thirteen months of age)
So what got to his funny bone
Is very hard to gauge.
What seems to me quite ordinary,
Filtered through his eyes,
Becomes a new adventure
Simply bursting with surprise.
So as we watched, his all-out giggles
Filled me with delight.
The time I spend with Henry
Makes the world seem fresh and bright.
Team players shake hands good luck
Shoot scores the hockey puck
The soccer player kicks the ball
The sky diver takes the fall
The football player must run fast
All winners first or last
A little white ball and a tee
A game of golf or maybe rugby
The skater twirls with such grace
The prize horse comes in first place
The Olympics draws a big crowd
Monster trucks are very loud
Base ball has the fly ball
The referee makes the call
Wrestling well i find that fake
A race with boats on the lake
Roll the ball and knock down the pins
The whistle blows see them swim
From the bleachers comes cheers and screams
Volleyball played in teams
The highest mountains they like to climb
The race car hurries to the finish line
You should really consider if your tall
Getting in to playing basketball
liking sports to watch or play
Win or loose thats okay
Amrican Women Soccer Players
Women will always play their best game
Which is great and much more of the same
Perfect playing and outstanding expertise
Excellent effort when giving all their grease.
Ball movement and passing were right on
And hopefully into next game has gone
Causing them to create one more goal
Well I'll sure be darn and bless my soul.
Penalties they have held to only a few
Accidental of course we always knew
Splendid players all of them were being
Surrounded by such expert referring.
So Sunday wonderful game will be here
Where women players again shall appear
Along with rowdy crowd who are yelling loud
Because of American's they are all proud.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran and Poet
running 12 men
24 in total, puffing carbon dioxide
inhaling oxygen from the outside,
shouting a teammate from the other side
watch that space
whistle,that one is playing offside
think should do that in practice,
spectators like that on the east side,
the players,
the passer-by
where is the wayside
not like sport field with pedestrian roadside
where should one pass?
in a broad daylight in the countryside
a day thinking within side
playing is preferably a cool weather alongside
small place
big planet
on a 45 degrees
rotating with a small country side
I was frozen in place when
I felt it “bite me” – a nip
On my neck from a pesky
Mosquito – oh no!
I couldn’t move to kill it,
So I stayed still. But cringed when
I saw the mosquito land
On Deborah’s nose!
4/7/12
Susan Burch
For Linda's "Bite Me" contest
Bit Deborah Burch
Street players, dressed in poverty's finest,
beg for recognition and a few coins.
Their unique rhythm is intoxicating,
seducing me with its audacity.
Trumpets, offset by the twanging of strings,
harmonize, in a release of passion.
And setting the beat of their homespun jazz,
youthful bravado sets the night on fire.
Revelry and pathos, played in tandem,
one speaks to the heart, the other, the soul.
And a brass horn sways hypnotically,
as notes intensify, with every chord.
Some win, others lose;
Try to see which way.
Most tend to confuse;
So simply, "Just play"!
Fine tune scoring skills,
Play for the big game.
Maybe take some spills,
Sure tickets to fame.
Go grab the brass ring,
Wins seem so rosey.
Make truth the top thing-
Hold up that trophy!
If you have not won,
Sports should still be fun.
Team players
Lanky,
Swanky,
Quirky,
Yankee,
One fabulous team, lanky, swanky, past,
Winners of fame, lanky, Yankee…fast!
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
March 17, 2010
Poetic form: Tyburn
Hike-You is Haiku,
For Football Players, You See
Throw the Ball to Me!!!
(January 15, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
Trifling juvenile players harping silly tunes
Guns and bling-bling, fake love and stuff like that
I'm no candy man, never been, but I know this
You will need to cut back on the crap
Or we will forever hear your lives going drip-drip
All over a collection of nick-knacks, I'll be damned
A finger snaps and the so-called snitch screams
In between sobs he hopes this in just a bad dream
Fake soldier takes a puff from the cancer stick
And draws a heart of smoke in the air
This, he says, waving pistol for emphasis
Is what happens when you go telling on a gangster
And the lost lieutenants nod their noggins
Some gang-banger somewhere is reloading
At the station a sergeant fancies himself a swiffer
Appointed by his conscience to make the streets cleaner
You kids are swift but the arm of the law is swifter
So play your lame game and watch him work his cleaver
Too many people think violence is a love song
But the moment you think you got it you're wrong
Go figure. This is not about pointing fingers
But a sense of ominous foreboding lingers
How will footballers huddle
keeping six feet apart
Are they gonna tackle
by throwing darts
Wearing face masks under
helmets is a total joke ~
Let the players bring the dope
and give the referees a toke
No smile in sight, to break one for once would be to err in social graces,
So for the sake of keeping grace solemnity will hold sway of our faces,
A walk turns to drudge, conversation to drawl,
All faces are ashen & silence for all,
It's forced, I know this, I scream in my head,
This nonsensical downtrodden respect for the dead,
In life this one moved me with power, storms: laughter or tears,
We should party, celebrate this life not bask in our fears,
It's our own mortality we weep for, selfish tears used untrue,
In games of who's sadder, them, me or you?
Funeral phonies, Postmortem players, In Insincerity only are you sincere,
I refuse to adhere, I'll say goodbye by raising a beer,
So have fun with your pomp & faux tear,