Best Relay Race Poems
They elude me now ...words
Drinking befits a drowning man possessed
Swimming off this broken page
Baton winning in a relay race
I breached the ribbon sliced with chest
Joy! I gasped
Grown tired of my own riddles
Those halting jagged lines
Conversely I committed
So disrespectful of my crimes
In dispatchment utter lunacy
Forgiveness once again!
Ive come to claim my lost respect
My place so quick forgotten was
So Zeroed out of ten
Twelve steps from cursed enslavement
Danced to music uncontained
Toi-toi in lone detachment
Side stepping their allure
And tangoed with enticement
And cha-cha'd with no cure
Then dropping over hurdles
Burning through those barricades
All over all these obstacles
So help me God I try to change
No longer need prescription
Still sometimes do I crave
Unshackled is your prisoner
Dispossession freed this slave
There is something about that -ism
A mystery by name
Other than recovery
Benign this deathly game
Be it known that happy healing
Doubles, behind the curtains of shame
The relay race starts with a bang as rain comes pouring down.
The starting runner, Spring, flies by in her bright flower crown.
Baton gets passed to Summer, who so glowingly appears
right at the very moment that the massive rain cloud clears.
The crowd all loves this golden runner, who too soon is gone.
The sun shines brightly on her as she passes the baton.
The third one, Autumn, plods through leaves and nearly takes a Fall,
then passes off to Winter, who proceeds at such a crawl -
for she showed up in sweatpants, knowing snow had been forecast.
Each spectator cheers loudly when the finish line is passed.
But when that race is over, then a new one's soon begun
with all the fans excited to see how THAT race is run!
Repeat after me
Is good to be good
For one good turn deserve another
As kindness is a healing
To the wound unseen
So now repeat after me
Kindness is like a baton
In a relay race
When you receive it you
Pass it on
Oh repeat after me
Kindness is like a baton
In a relay race
When you receive it you
Pass it on
How can we make the world
A better place if we are not
Kind to each other
How can we grow if we don't
Care for each other
How can life be when there is no
Kindness
For with just a share of kindness
Heaven is likely on our feet
So now repeat after me
Kindness is like a baton
In a relay race
When you receive it you
pass it on
Oh repeat after me
Kindness is like a baton
In a relay race
When you receive it you
Pass it on
I wonder why people now
So scared
So scared to show kindness
Guess that is the least at least
All people can share among ourselves
For a little kindness
Goes a long long way
So now repeat after me
Kindness is like a baton
On a relay race
When you receive it you
Pass it on
Oh repeat after me
Kindness is like a baton
On a relay race
When you receive it you
Pass it on
Life is beautiful
There are lots of joy to earn
When kindness is shared
Among our selves
we all need care
Who is careless is lifeless
when kindness comes
Your way then you could feel
A joy of being with a heart healed
In life is good to be good
So now repeat after me
Kindness is like a baton
In a relay race
When you receive it you
pass it on
Oh repeat after me
Kindness is like a baton
In a relay race
When you receive it you
pass It on
I rest my case
Why are we the human race
rather than another extinguishing species?
Why not the human species
and not the cockroach race?
Why is human nature
intended as somehow supremely natural
not within but faster than,
above and beyond
inferior sensual nature?
Why is race,
inhuman embrace-conflicted context,
a qualitative noun,
stultifying stasis,
rather than a speeding verb
toward shared finish line
when everyone can win together
where no one fully wins apart?
Why is nature's race
not yet declared as one
indigenous Earth Tribe?
Bicamerally endowed
to celebrate Earth's rhythmic ordination
of regenetic liturgy and syntax,
grace racing veins
full-blooded diverse healing homes
of natural peace construction.
What happened to issue
as primal verb
when babies issued from progenitors
and words issued from mouths
and blood issued from wounds
and racing issued from DNA's polycultures,
storytellers weaving diverse generative threads
Remembering from whom and when we issue
back before embracing human memory
in dialectic dreamy nest of fractal tones
polychronic texture
4 dimensioned structure
rhythm rhyme dancing
polycultured racing
comic multicultural
co-operative opera.
Coincidental correlating races,
humane natural places,
issue forth to teach and humor
and recess back to learn and decompose
to mentor Nature's human embrace
radical solidarity race
rooted pace
secured by leaving none behind
Every living system ordained
to race redeeming issues
through singing flows of dancing waves
linked through all spacetime.
If race exponentially regenerates
intergenetic issues,
then this is more of a species relay race
during which boundary lanes
no more than trace and lace
our deep seasoned swimming synchrony,
blending genetic notes of freedom's harmony
toward nature's unfinish-lined
circling symphony.
My name is Ethel Mary
And I have to tell you this
I hate it when Aunt Geri
gives a purple garlic kiss!
I hate it when my bubblegum
EXPLODES all over my face!
I hate it when I’m last
in the stupid relay race!
I hate it when I laugh
and milk goes out my nose!
I hate it when my new shoes
put a blister on my toes!
I hate it when my Dad
has to work on Saturday!
I hate it when it rains
and I can’t go out and play!
But I think what I hate most,
and I know I told you this,
but I hate it when Aunt Geri
gives that purple garlic kiss!
Each day is like a different game
Few are like chess,
they need tactics to win.
Few are like a carom match,
they need perfect aiming.
Few are like a tennis tournament,
they need concentration.
Few are like a relay race,
they need cooperation.
Few are like swimming,
they need a lot of stamina.
Few are like a marathon,
they need a lot of will power.
Few are like gymnastics,
they need you to be flexible.
Few are like weightlifting,
they test your ability.
Each one is unique and thrilling.
As our strength differs,
We cannot win every game.
Keep in mind this simple rule – JUST PLAY!
Lonely, December Calendar folio awaiting removal
New calendar waiting to unfold and adorn the wall
Midnight human congregation beating star constellation high
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky
Successful, toast to mark rise from dust speck to living pollen
Failures, drench in drink, surrendering control to cerebellum
Joy or grief, party clamour crescendo does not die
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky
Wishes exchanged fast like batons passed on relay race track
Desperate reciprocation, as if wishes alone to make or break
Resolution for efforts nowhere in circulation, none knows why
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky
Not almighty, human fragmented life into many a year
For HIM full life is a year, Death a threshold of New Year
Live to rise spiritually, on Death let HIS celebration toast clink high
Ring out wild bells to the wild sky
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Written by - Hitendra Mehta
Entry for Members Contest Nov 2011 - "Ring out wild bells to the wild sky" by Dr Ram Mehta
The human experience fulfilling sensation,
our environment is our creation,
not ours originally,but ours to maintain,
natural system,needs are sustained...
Everybody has a bell that rings
cellular vibration,in song it sings,
a siren song enchanting desire
a high which takes you higher and higher...
The world is full of it's rising stars
untapped potential which takes them far,
it also has it's falling stars too,
a world of fools,a world of ruin...
A new portal behind every door
a gambit of play being explored
every encounter a game of chance,but,
what do you bear,the cross or the lance ?
The relic spear a source of power
Imperial thrones built up their towers
from Constantine to Charlemagne,
the Byzantine to the Lorraine...
All just sequels of transformation
preceding was laid their emulation
enacted improvements instituted
system of governing constituted...
All in hope to outlast the past,
relay race,a passing of the staff,
still only bond by popular opinion
confounded by those noxious minions...
The eastern hemisphere full of rage
they crossed the Atlantic to disengage,
but,in their scope,they brought disease,
methodology which didn't appease...
The red west never got a true chance
as invaders stormed behind their lance,
Montezuma welcomed with open arms,
soldiers of fortune brought firearms...
Indigenous people filled their plantation
others were chained to fulfill fruition,
Noble's became Don's,others slavemaster,
chain of events was still a disaster....
From fuedalisms fortune of birth
circumstance directed self-worth
peasantry suffered tilling the soil
while others got fat from plundered spoils...
i'd just been declared surplus to requirements by my boss
with bloodshot eyes i plodded home completely at a loss
oblivious of my ex-secretary's commiserations
mum's late stage cancer portended impending tribulation
what bruised my heart was my boss' betrayal
his reward for my being unflinchingly loyal
my mind raced to dad's Dane gun, and a well knotted noose, and lethal pills
just one good hot and my sorrows will cease
somehow the thought of my fiancé filled my mind
she was of heaven-so gentle and kind
i'll stay for her. oh such a dear!
i whistled generously, passers by stare
the angelic fiancé turned out a fiendish spouse
she wouldn't cook, she wouldn't work or even clean the house
my income vanished as it came and it was all her effort
she also nagged whenever i offered mum support
but it was her promiscuous lifestyle that often drove me senseless
young, old, rich and poor; she was just so shameless
my limit was reached the day i caught her with my erstwhile boss
homicide was the easier bet but i settled for divorce
to my utmost dismay, the judge added the burden of alimony
to the same unfaithful villain who had wasted my money
worse still outside the courtroom she gave a parting shot
"you were definitely the worst of the lot
even the old judge was much better than you
as was the vicar, the postman and your valet too"
i regained consciousness in the emergency room of a hospital
where i got to learn that my condition had been fatal
somehow, i had consumed some capsules of arsenic
i was just so lucky to have been found by Nick
with tears streaming down my face
i told the doctor all about Grace
for what seemed like ages, he stared blandly at me
then with lips quivering, he said these words to me
“this morning my wife and children were slain by a suicide bomber
i was all set for Israel when you were brought in coma
my duty is to save lives, so i couldn't let you waste yours
life may be mean to us but someone else has it worse
adversities are like batons, you must get them to win a relay race
sorry you just got divorced but therein lies your ace
being alive gives you the chance to get it right again
your ex-wife's loss will be another maiden's gain”
As we weave our dance today
some time slips into being
what is before us
in this glorious dance I love so
as tears fill my eyes with your joy
and recognition
focused in perfection before me
where I can breath them into life
life that we share as one
separate but never far apart
in a life that I love like water
drinking your skin with my eyes
as you sail through canyons of uncertainty
as if tomorrow could die
and you'd be happy
just as you are today
knowing your heart
is not some moment's creation
but eternally woven into being
by the very footsteps you are taking now
and have take since before you knew
you walk alone together with me
as if we recognized some purpose
dreaming we may touch in order that we do
knowing the day will come
when this beauty will abound larger
long enough to light a fire
in the heart of a new traveler
who lay sleeping silent there
in the distant corner of your imagination
until our love gives life again
in a relay race without winner
and our kiss seals their fate
to become their own keeper
and continue our flame
as if they held us
as they do
just as surely
as we hold them
unbound
certain
and true
This is it, I want to say.
An acid rain falling each evening
and you, reading a poem
surrounded by flame – attendants.
Nothing moves farther than activism.
Conversation centers around the flares
on the surface of an orange sun,
a big hole coming up in the ozone layer.
You are an ocean, needs penetration
of inquiry. Running a relay race in
a big cage to keep the torch
burning. Clouds in the sky
objecting to full moon, coming up,
nonchalantly. Landscape rips – off
the ideas from the thorn
in the heart.
SATISH VERMA
Life's a relay race whose baton keeps you living long after you're gone.
The universe of time and space
is leading us on merry chase
as schemes are parleyed to and fro
in astro-physic quid pro quo
of scientific relay race.
We dwell in lilliputian place
within the heavens’ vast embrace
unfathomable be it so
the universe.
While here we spin in cosmic grace
with sight that cannot see our face
beneath a vault of indigo
in multiverse? ‘big bounce’ yo-yo?
from ‘Plato’s Cave’ we seek to trace
the universe.
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * *
Some sources of inspiration were the following…
Multiverse: ~ (in physics and cosmology) a hypothetical reality that includes a possibly infinite number of parallel, identical, or diverse universes, including our own.
Big Bounce ~ theorizes that perhaps the Big Bang was more of a “Big Bounce”, a turning point in an ongoing cycle of contraction and expansion.
Plato’s Cave ~ An allegorical cave, described by Plato, whose inhabitants see reality only in the form of shadows projected onto a wall by a fire behind them.
Learning when/how to close seat then...
flush... the toilet with good frisson!
(alternately titled long windedly
using lower case letters:
no matter tidily bowled over based
upon real events, perhaps subject devoid
of literary merit and/or taste
no embarrassment, cuz
I got nothing to cover
despite precious time going to waste).
Analogous to constipation,
constitutes full term pregnancy,
perhaps umpteenth or first,
which former offal bodily function I durst
mention, said subject doth stink,
yet... exercising bowel
applicative, constrictive, effective,
exhaustive, gesticulative, instinctive,
massive, oppressive, qualitative,
quantitative, significative and unitive
(beg to differ if ye think me perverse)
both scenarios prone to stress and strain,
difficulties can arise evacuating bowels
gluteus maximus muscles severely pursed,
radiating sharp stabbing sensations
behind junk in trunk quarters felt
until bulging temple veins ready to burst,
where piles of hemorrhoids
foul rectum tortured and accursed
necessitating Judas Priest well versed
to issue last rites while
appropriate official dull livers worst
news to missus, whose
inconsolable sympathies nursed,
nevertheless bit torrent of sorrow
honor alone time with grateful dead
subsequently finds medical personnel disbursed,
privately newly minted widow mourning
tears for fears immersed
bemoaning sudden permanent absence
gone fore e'er foremost farter figure first
instance obliterated, when posterior
uproariously (actually not funny)
inflicted hemorrhage emergency,
die hard ludicrous poet (me) experienced
all expense chauffeured ride in hearst
aforementioned purportedly roughly comparable,
courtesy hearsay, when
hypothetical woman with child,
(here, I metaphorically paraphrase)
as maven ready to take aim giving birth
(nine months after satiating
hankering call of the wild
buzzfeeding miracle worker whipped thirst,
and temporarily appeased
inherent maternal yearning
to beget offspring, then... off to races
sprinting at greased lightning speed
amazingly enough slightly protruded womb,
(among other fledgling
and/or practiced moms avid runners
all touted as winners relay race crossing
finish line simultaneously
comprising distance measuring more'n verst.
If I am to love again, let it be
A love exchange friend and friend.
Beloved, a true love.
If I keep pace, a relay race.
If I am to love again, let it be monogamous.
And I slay the heart of the one which I love.
A love that spawns a passion which yearns.
Let the one not start to depart while this
Gifted one sees my entrails, The me that I am.
You see, I bleed.
I have proclamations of my Love's AUTHENTICATION.
IF I am to love again let it be of a kind of seed which
Clamours for a love beset in me of NOURISHED FIDELITY.