Best Rematch Poems
why will men fight and suffer to advance the interests of their masters, who fling them aside when they have no further use for them?
Arthur Findlay
The black king and the white king, well they didn't see eye to eye
A war was looming, but not them; it was the pawns that would die
They placed them up to the front, with their cavalry at the rear
No side had any notion of backing down, and no side showed fear.
God is surely with us, the bishops on both sides proclaimed
Anyone saying otherwise would have been publicly shamed
A white pawn was the first to move forward, ready for the fight
But in just a couple of moves was struck down, by a black knight.
Two white knights moved forward in a blazing counter attack
The black pieces managed to hold the line and didn't fall back
Then a white bishop moved forward in a straight diagonal line
Black King told his pawns to move forward; everything will be fine.
The black queen wanted action and urged her pawns to be brave
But it wouldn't be her or the king that would be digging their grave
One by one her pawns were slaughtered, like lambs on the battlefield
A ceasefire was out of the question, because neither side would yield.
But the proud white king was about, to meet an agonising fate
When the black queen with her knights, declared a checkmate
But there were really no winners or losers, in this senseless war
Supporters on both sides wondered, what the hell it was all for.
The two main players in the background escaped without a scratch
And were already preparing to meet on the battlefield, for a rematch
Both sides exchanged their battered pieces of the injured and the slain
And maybe tomorrow or the next day were preparing to do it all again.
Meanwhile the arms manufacturers, were making big monetary gain
Whilst the landed gentry ate caviar and sipped on their champagne
Victory parades were held in all the towns, with all the pomp and flair
Hollow platitudes read out to mourn the dead, but do they really care?
Written on 6th June 2022.
Categories:
rematch, death, metaphor, war,
Form:
Rhyme
Today's Date July 24. 2015
Contest Entry---First written Spring 2015
game bullying, hero, silly, sports, strength, word play,,
Champing At the Bit! ©
I hear the roars in the almighty arena
I like to see many a game played out
I am a contender ready for sport
Out for a rematch when elected to strike
Bringing on 'mite and dare' with battle-ax!
.
Inside fielders, outside shots
With vinegar, brawn, spit and guts
Side lines, guidelines guard rails spin
Play your bit and take over until ‘taken’
“Roll me over in fields of clover” again
“Let's roll out the barrel” once more
“The gangs all here” for (old time’s sake)!
To ‘bare’ false teeth replaced from knockouts
Falsely breathing like the lion when times taken ‘out’
False starts, ball belongs to the court ‘out of bounds’
Man ‘sports’ a rebel cry with clansmen at the helm
Fight your battles; fight your wars, fight to finish!
Categories:
rematch, bullying, hero, silly, sports,
Form:
Verse
Northside of Chi-Town is full of emotion.
In the ‘45 Series Cubs and Tigers are battling.
Sianis buys two tickets to show his devotion.
Is booted ‘cause his billy goat won’t stop bahbling.
He curses the Cubbies and causes a commotion.
But spring is rooted in fans' love and devotion
Like lush, green, yellow, crimson, ivy will never
Stop growing. Year after year fans fear
Hearts will shatter but remain forever
Faithful chanting “Wait ‘til next year!”
Generations grow up cheering with great emotion.
Generations grow old enduring gut-wrenching loss
Bleeding among Lovable Losers time
And again, but no Cubbie faithful dares cross
To the Southside—it’d be a traitorous crime.
In 2003, faithful fans’ love and devotion
Promises fruition as Dusty Baker
Arrives Northside heralded as the Cubs’ savior.
But NLCS Game 6 at Wrigley is a heartbreaker.
Cubs need five outs but collide with a traitor.
Steve Bartman’s still in hiding; his name elicits emotion.
Castillo’s bat aims grenade over foul territory.
Cubs’ fielder Alou springs towards the heavens to snatch
But when feet touch dirt Cubs land in purgatory.
Faithful gasp: Curse of the Billy Goat sets a rematch.
Since that fateful day in ‘45 exploding with emotion
Wrigley hasn’t seen another World Series.
Since Bartman's affair in 2003, Cubs haven’t won
A playoff series. But Billygoat yaks to Mrs. O’Leary’s
Ol’ Cow an’ scoffs at the new scapegoat’s unearned run.
In 2011, after 91-losses, Ricketts proves his devotion
Adding the sabermetrics guru who now values emotions.
Epstein arrives at Northside championing human connections
Rebuilds Cubs’ roster with players who reverse the motion
108-years and character solves equation for a winners’ resurrection.
Hearts ripping open is a crushing emotion
But fans never stopped believin' in near
Foreseeable future ‘cause they’re loyal
Lovers and nothin’s as good as baseball ‘n’ beer
At Wrigley for 81 games on your own home soil.
Categories:
rematch, america, angst, baseball, celebration,
Form:
Rhyme
(With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer, author of "Casey at the Bat".)
The Mudville nine and Casey have their chance for sweet revenge;
They play today in Dirtburg, their misfortune to avenge.
Two mighty Casey homers have us leading, five to four.
The bottom of the ninth arrives: three cheers for three outs more!
The lead-off slugger, Bugsy, flies to right: out number one.
But Smith and Jones both single; now the worrying’s begun.
So when our pitcher, Nelly, loads the bases with a walk,
In shaken insecurity we hush our hopeful talk.
We badly need a strikeout—better yet, a double play.
But cleanup batter Brutus may have something more to say.
Old Nelly sure looks nervous as he winds up for the pitch,
And Brutus eyes him coolly, and we see his muscles twitch.
And now our hearts stop beating as we hear the bat’s report.
And ahh, relief—we breathe again; he’s grounded straight to short!
The shortstop throws to second for the force: out number two.
The easy lob to first will end this rematch, right on cue.
The Dirtbag Coliseum is erupting in a din:
Uproarious cheers reverberate as Smith and Jones jog in.
The joyful, jubilant half-gibes behind each haughty face
Proclaim our Casey still a bum; he’s overthrown first base.
Categories:
rematch, baseball, funny, humor, humorous,
Form:
Narrative
We had gathered 'round the radio, to listen to the fight
A dispute ensued, punches thrown, a bloody fight
Cigarette butts strewn across the floor, some stained in lipstick- red
A broken ashtray by the door where some blood was shed.
By an old typewriter something shiny lay
A gold earring, lost in the fray
It was a helluva fight,
Max throwing lefts
Joe countering with rights
Not to mention our own lefts and rights
But it was Max who wore the crown that night.
Two years later I bought an airline ticket
To see the much anticipated rematch
I thought Schmeling would retain the crown
But my hopes were dashed when Louis ended it in one
A few years later the world was at war
I found myself on a distant shore, fighting the Nazis ......
Blood and gore, horrors of war...
Dead bodies strewn across the fields, stained in crimson red
Broken dreams lay in gutters, where their blood was shed
Categories:
rematch, history,
Form:
Rhyme
Had an argument with the floor and the floor won
A rematch is scheduled, this time I'll be packing a gun
Not taking any chances
Won't end up on the canvass
Pump some slugs in it's under belly and watch all the fun
Categories:
rematch, humor,
Form:
Limerick
They said that it could not be done
They warned it would go wrong
Debates were held across the globe
Discussions tough and long
Science won with madcap plans
To change the world forever
They cloned a bunch of dinosaurs
And made them really clever
The end result as you’d expect
The Dinos knew their worth
And quickly they reclaimed their place
As rulers of the earth
A hundred years, a hundred more
They grew in size and smarts
Determined they would make the best
Of this new given start
They loved and learned and had a blast
They lived without regrets
Until the day the dinosaurs
Discovered quite a threat
With eyes upon the stars above
These creatures down below
Looked up and saw approaching fast
A dreaded age-old foe
The meteor was twelve miles long
Another five in girth
And without doubt, this chunk of rock
Was heading straight for Earth
So history, it seemed to them
Was doomed to a repeat
Just when Jurassic 2.0
Was getting really sweet
Enter now our heroes two
Our saviours of the day
Claiming they could make this problem
Swiftly go away
Professor Rex and Dr Steg
Were cleverer than most
Though being humble dinosaurs
They didn’t like to boast
The took the stand, addressed the world
To calm the publics fears
They had a plan, one they’d prepared
Throughout their whole careers
“Don’t worry friends” The doctor said
His face set proud and grim
“Though we were bested long ago
This time we’re going to win”
“Before we fought with tooth and claw
We now have brains and wit
Last time destruction came to us
Now we take the fight to it”
A ship was built, a team was formed
The gears of fate were turning
Now was the time they put to test
Their centuries of learning
Blasting off with guts and gusto
Geared towards the heavens
The dinosaurs all crossed their claws
Awaiting Dino-geddon
It took their best, their toughest lot
To see the battle through
But just in time these fine heroes
Did what they’d aimed to do
The meteor, now dust and grit
Was scattered into space
The victors of this great rematch
The noble Dino Race!
Categories:
rematch, funny, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
For the moment I merely watched him
Running back and forth in his home
I am patient you see
I am full of time plenty
I am the sly one in the darkness and I am hungry
So I waited, all day I waited,
All night I waited, I waited, waited, waited
And in the morning he came out of his house
I waited no more
I struck like a black bolt of lightning streaking down from the heavens
As if Death itself had ripped across space to sever everything with its scythe
I screamed down from heaven and struck
Only to find him leaping up and over me
To tumble in the air and land behind me
I landed in a crouch...
Peering around over my shoulder I gleamed at him
He for his sake I saw glaring back at me balefully with eyes and one hand beckoning me
I snarled
Spun around and lashed out with my whip as I did
He ducked it,
With the speed of sound my fist struck him
He blocked it
Out came my foot, and then the other
He evaded the first, and caught the second
I rolled and struck him across his face with the first
Again I landed on my feet
He staggered back and with a back flip he was ready once more...
He wiped his nose with one hand
Bade me come at him again with the other
A sly half grin on his lips
I charged this impudent fool
Changed direction, spun around
Out came my whip
Out came my foot
And he leaped over my whip
Flipped between my foot
And struck me twice with his own
light kicks to the face meant to shock me more than hurt me
We parted and circled each other
Looking for openings in the other's defenses
And there because I am patient I found it
A chink in his armour of skill and technique
He was mine
Again I rushed him in one smooth fluid motion
Twin kicks, the whip, my fists, and head butt, knees and elbows
In blinding fury, speed and in the space between thought it was over...
He retreated blocking the kicks,
Ducking the whip,
Avoiding the fists left then right
Catching the head butt in his hands
Countering the knees with his knees
The elbows with his elbows
And then...
He did the impossible
He
Defeated me
Rolling backwards he slammed my head into the wall,
Sliding from beneath my crumpling body with his feet
To stand ready inches from my limping body
I remember thinking then as my eyes closed to the world
"That's one damn tough hamster," I get out of the Kitty Clinic in two days
I want a rematch
Categories:
rematch, animal, cat, fantasy, funny,
Form:
Free verse
The game just began
With two teams,
On red and the other blue
We in this too,
And all are in...
Fans cheering and some booing
Yeah! we love y'all hater's,
Section and schedules
We gotta make it in time,
From eight to three
Beautiful grasses- fine cut lawns,
This is the game
12 men but six are in
Playing squash without the quard
Its a rough game; So we pay to win
Red cards and yellow cards
The warnings so we look up to the sky
Coach Shouting "this can't be right"!
But we play any way.
Player one is in and Player two left,
Coach benched me:
So im watching the game from the side lines,
Team one scored three goals and later six,
the coach snapped and had to put me on the field
Damn "i had to go again"
I scored nine goals and it was it!
A beast-A mascot to a team winner
Red T-shirt and numbered eleven
Man of the match- I lit up the game
Catch me if you can,
If they want a rematch
And I'm afraid that I'll win again.
Categories:
rematch, games, imagination,
Form:
List
It’s been a great season with every run block pass and catch
Now its time for the best players to have their rematch
Eli looks for another ring while Brady wants four
The Pats look back to even the 2008 score
Grab you favorite snack and crack yourself a beer
Its game day for Super Bowl so get ready to cheer
Patriots or Giants who will eventually win
Who will be the world champions with the battle of the pigskin
Offense or defense what will win the debate
Will the G-mens D seal the Pats fate
Will the Patriots offense score big we shall see
Which team will hold yet another Lombardi trophy
Coughlin or Bellichek whhat coach is the best
It should be exciting to watch this ultimate football test
So put on your jerseys and hats and make your picks
Enjoy yourself and may the best team win Superbowl forty six
Categories:
rematch, sports,
Form:
Rhyme
Ninety-seven percent of all U.S. currency
Contains a trace amount of cocaine
Sniffing your George Washington's every day
Causes a mellowing of the brain
If we were able to live on Planet Mercury
Each year is only 88 days there
Well holy kadoodle, at that astounding rate
I'd be 300 and still have my hair
The world record for the most babies born
By one woman is sixty-nine
My guess is she was perpetually pregnant
Imagine all the washing on her line
They say a broken clock is always right
A couple of times every day
If you're having trouble figuring that one out
You should seek some help I'd say
The G in “g-string” that those dancers wear
Stands for “groin” I've heard it said
But if a dancer weighs over 300 pounds
It would stand for “gross” instead
Way back when, nagging wives were punished
By being forced to wear a bridle
Think I'll refrain from commenting here
For fear of serious reprisals
The male praying mantis cannot copulate
While it's head is still attached
So the female accommodates by ripping it off
So much for a possible rematch
Although they may not want to admit it
Women fart as much as men
But they fart in a much more ladylike fashion
And never lift their leg or bend
© Jack Ellison 2013
Categories:
rematch, humorous, planet,
Form:
Quatrain
Patrolling the jungle, testosterone surging, muscles finely tuned
He stumbles upon Jane swimming naked, in an open lagoon
This handsome stallion stopped dead, beside waters edge
Me Tarzan, she just smiles, stepping out by thin hedge
Standing before her, beads of sweat glisten his well toned chest
Long mane of hair, ripped biceps, a specimen, alpha the best
Spellbound as she kisses, hush my baby just let it happen
Breathing heavily, in submission, Tarzan oozing passion
Dynamic forces at play, in virgin jungle, latency is being woken
Pheromones, endorphins, gushing rivers, packing implosions
Arboreal creatures gaze down, with perplexed trepidation
Positions below change, moans turn into exclamations
Her statuesque body, his athletic frame, create perfect recipes
Both out of control, relentless, inexorable pain, and ecstasy
OH-EE-OH-EE-OH-EE-AW-EE-AW, Tarzan roars exultation
My God you beast! says Jane, an indirect translation
Not finished only getting started, she too is insatiable for more,
Naked in the wilderness, aesthetic bodies, primed to explore
With a Herculean physique, Tarzan’s pulse keeps on giving
Jane meets halfway, this goddess takes every collision
So marathons ensue, flesh upon flesh, tugging pushing delight
Lusting thrusting each other to a standstill, going until night
Tarzan swings her home, a safari campsite nestles nearby
Same time place tomorrow, you got a rematch big boy.
OH-EE-OH-EE-OH-EE-AW-EE-AW, triumphs with joy
By
David kavanagh
MAKE LOVE NOT WAR
Categories:
rematch, allegory, allusion, crush, desire,
Form:
Rhyme
Growing up, most children hope for mum and dad's presents
I was passed around foster families wishing for my mum and dad's presence
But I had a roof over my head, so How could I be sad?
Maybe because I was always just craving the parents I never had
I never cared for Christmas and I still don't if I'm being honest
I wish I could speak openly about a lot of my personal topics
But I struggle to speak so I have to write them in a poem instead
It'd be nice if I could learn to express everything that's in my head
I hope Manchester United start to play well and remember how to win trophies
When I meet the girl of my dreams I hope she loves the future me, current me and old me
I hope that me and my friends have some of our best days because we've survived some of our worst nights
I hope Wilder and Fury have a rematch and the judges don't rob Fury off the win like they did in the first fight
The ultimate gift would be Demi Lovato and I'd really enjoy unwrapping the packaging
If Santa delivers her to me would it be classed as romantic or human trafficking?
That was a bad joke but I'm a wannabe comedian at heart
I stand with Palestine and hope they will be free, the souls healed and all of the evil departs
I hope my loved ones never have to fake a smile
I hope no poet gets writers block because I've had it for a while
This is my first poem after a bout of writers block so of course it was never going to be good
But if you're reading this I hope your Christmas is filled with happiness and love
Categories:
rematch, christmas, fun, funny, meaningful,
Form:
Free verse
I lost my mooning contest
with the moon.
The odds were in my favor:
two pallid orbs
against one: a sullen sack
up there, barely engaged,
as the gamblers around me
gawked. But
when the blood billowed
down to my noggin,
I swooned, face dunk
in the mud.
Next day all the grog in Terra
below could not
stake a rematch between me
and that bad
bulbous bag of apathy
in the night,
that orbital ogler flashing
its silk surveillance through
our innocent panes
and unsuspecting livers,
exposing our competitive
genitalia to alleged shame,
a heavenly body, distinguished
by the negligence of its ilk.
Categories:
rematch, games,
Form:
Couplet
I had a date (not a great date but a date)! Could our covid nightmare be ending?
An actual one-on-one date - can you imagine? It was with Noud, a university student (from Holland) I met a couple of weeks ago.
Noud, to be accurate, is a man. He’s 22 and I’m 17 (18 in 3 months). My mom was skeptical but we’ve been around Noud and he seemed pretty nice. It wasn’t like I was infatuated with him, this was a practice date.
I hadn’t been on many one-on-one dates before this (5). I was thinking my 17th year was gonna be a breakout year for dating - but NOT. The over-a-year pandemic lock-down put an end to that.
Anyway, here’s a date tip for older guys: if you’re sincere about something - say “sustainability” - don’t talk about it at dinner - all dinner. In fact, if you’re an intense, serious person - on any subject - take that secret to your grave.
We had dinner - that we picked up and picnicked with. After dinner, things went all WWE. Once we were back in his car, it was as if I became a birthday present he’d been waiting months to open. He pressed in like that was an established, almost impersonal fact.
For someone claiming to be interested in “sustainability”, he moved to the chest massage - skirt-search portion of the festivities pretty quickly. and that didn’t really work for me.
At one point, wrestling in his tiny electric car - which pitched like a rowboat in an angry sea - I felt his tongue in my eyebrows… yeah, my eyebrows.
“What are you DOING?”, I asked, digging my heals into the floorboard to gain enough leverage to push him away and wiping my face with my sleeve.
“You taste good,” he said (hear it with a slight Arnold Schwarzenegger accent).
“I’m NOT a gelato,” I complained, while maintaining a stiff-arm.
Hey, it was a long lock-down year - we’ve all missed dating, we’re all out of practice and maybe some are trying too hard - I get that.
This isn’t a “metoo” story - Noud took “no” for “NO” once I went to my big, “dog command voice,” but *sigh* Noud will NOT be getting a rematch.
Categories:
rematch, 12th grade, confidence, confusion,
Form:
Free verse