Best Sporty Poems
I attended a large gathering and took some time
to observe the great assortment of shoes stacked on the racks
I saw new shoes, pricey shoes, and shoes not worth a dime
and shoes that seemed to have crossed many paths and tracks.
I saw dainty sandals and flighty high heeled ones too
I saw sporty sneakers and rough and tough trainers
I saw both the laced and the leathery buckled shoe
Then I saw the humble yet hardy pair of slippers.
I saw pointy shoes, furry shoes and flatties as well
I saw flowery ones and those studded with trinket gems
Some stacked neatly in pairs, others thrown about pell mell
Some recently repaired, some coming off at the hems.
I saw long boots, rubber boots and
there were glittery Indian styled stilettoes
I spotted fragile glass sandals and metallic brass sandals
and soft comfy ones for comfort of feet 'n' toes.
And while I was thus lost and engrossed
in watching the great assortment of footwear
The old caretaker, to me, a cheap pair tossed
saying, ' here's an extra pair if you've lost your shoes.
She was too busy and distracted to be in my shoes of muse
So I'd to slip out thinking of some quick excuse
She didn't even notice I wasn't actually barefoot
So I had to take them elsewhere, both my muse and my boot!
Ah, and long ago when once we could afford only a 'shoestring' budget
I once hadn't enough bucks to replace a worn out pair of shoes
I was sad for not having even a good goody two shoes
Then God showed me a wayfarer's shoeless pair of barefeet
and then one hapless one with no feet at all!
So I could imagine life being in their missing shoes.
(Footnote*
Wonderin where I saw so many shoes off peoples feet? Well, in our religious gatherings say for prayers in the mosque hall or even the religious lecture hall, we've to enter barefooted and sit down crosslegged. So that's where you come across all kinds of shoes on racks provided in the cubicle.
Actually in the Disney movie, 'THE PRINCE OF EGYPT', i marked that even Moses took off his shoes before talking to God.)
Categories:
sporty, humor, inspirational, social,
Form:
Quatorzain
A fuming, fierce and moving target
On yor species will you place yor bet!
Aiming the blade into shoulder blade or beating heart
all toreadors hope to throw that fatal decisive dart!
This bullyboy to score a bloodied bullseye in bullfight!
O'course not for the fainthearted that gory sight.
Well, that counts timid me out from any bullring
naturally I a bulwark against this lurid thing.
I find in the sport a sort of sadism
Like cockfights it must reek of masochism.
The carmine cape, the only screen between him and the jaws of death
or should I say rather, the sickle horns of death
Oh no, what if the matador ain't ever allowed to catch his breath?
For promoters a thrilling spinechilling
Spanish folk art in arena
For objectors a bloodsport
they wish as dead as the myth of Athena.
The Spanish might be divided about their picadors
on this sporty bloody battle between man and beast
No telling till when spectators will throng to watch those matadors
while I wonder do they on the trophy bull then feast?
Ah ban it to history
or fan it to the future
Call it cruelty or not, oh the thrills of our humankind
Tis fair play or fair game for the raging bull tis half blind?
Yet if any bloodlust instincts be satiated by those stuntmen toreros
matadors maybe far better than murderers and war heroes.
Categories:
sporty, animal, sports,
Form:
Quatorzain
Labored breaths echo throughout the bolted space.
A doom sensation overtakes the place of solace.
Her eyes scan for any exit.
Light scrambles through a cracked door.
A window glows, ajar.
Too far away for the taking, her body immobilizes.
She strives to breathe... even that threatens to cease.
Silent screams gasp for life,
as if trying to turn a door with breath.
A wave of wet beads seethe from her skin,
like lakes between boulders.
Her shoulders rise like hefty mountain weights
summoned to a stomach of scrambled sand.
In a kaleidoscopic instant, from the perceived exit,
enters a tuxedo hero, donning sporty socks,
flaunting a solid strut.
Up, he jumps upon her lap, like
the reward of a clapping audience.
His constant fur coat would be a king's boast.
Like melted butter on toast, he spreads his warmth.
A reverberating purr becomes the mender of broken emotions.
Hyperventilation fades to mimic his oceanic vibes.
2/26/2019
Categories:
sporty, cat, emotions, encouraging, fear,
Form:
Free verse
When I shop for an automobile,
I don’t worry much about speed.
Good mileage per gallon I want.
A van or a truck I don’t need!
So I guess if shopped for a spouse
the way that I shop for a car,
that means that my man wouldn’t need
much fuel, but he still could go far!
And since I can’t stand vans and trucks
(preferring a car rather small),
my man, by those very same standards,
would not be too hunky at all.
Neither too slow nor too fast, my man
would be like a Mitsubishi
A Spyder Eclipse, rather cute,
and super efficient for me!
When I shop for an automobile,
looks matter! I love a great hue.
And sporty is nice, but oh my,
what guy in the world is light blue?
And finally this is a must -
I want a convertible top!
Does that mean that men with toupees
are spouses for whom I should shop?
The spouse I have now is not small
nor sporty; his color is grey!
He’s bald, so he’s somewhat a rag-top.
I could purchase for him a toupee!
When all my old cars put on miles,
I always considered a trade-in.
But now that I’m old like my spouse,
I don’t think I’ll go through that again!
Categories:
sporty, husband, , cute,
Form:
Rhyme
Such a disaster
Waking up in the morning
Shamelessly white
Haiku
Self- tanning cream
The pride of looking sporty
The mirror pulls face
Haiku
Deep philosophy
The poet is in deep water
Saved by low tide
Haiku
One types of success
When your work brings happiness
And not endless doubt
Haiku
The loser a man
Who knows he`s incompetent
Yet accuse others
The news I read
Been the same for fifty years
War and film stars
Categories:
sporty, age, analogy, anniversary, arabic,
Form:
Haiku
I learn from you, dear garden, wisdom vivacious,
You are a vast archive, that makes my life gracious;
You give feast to my sensory organs and mind,
Your means of living and letting live, makes me kind...!
I, often, feel sad, seeing your seed planted, dead,
But, soon wonder in awe, when it raises its head;
When I, in manual work, get mix with you well,
You, in silent secret, vitalize my life-cell...!
Your rainbow-tinted bubbly blossoms, bloom my joy,
Your smile-filled serene scenes, I cheerfully enjoy;
Raring you and caring for you make me younger,
Faith and hope brim-fill my pitcher of life, fuller...!
Planting you, I see my future with optimism,
For, innate in you is, unending altruism;
Amidst your fragrant flowers, weeds too grow sporty,
It's, indeed, orchestration of nature's beauty...!
Your coffers of bounty never find emptiness;
No creature goes hungry, having sought your kindness,
Life you live for others, dying you resurrect,
Body and soul for all; with no color and sect...!
Thoughts of liveliness; religion of godliness,
Existential baseness; wisdom flow in fullness;
In the endless canvas of life, virtues you paint,
Whole in ethics and morals; you're a living saint...!
13 March 2022
Garden Inspirations Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: BJ Legros Kelley
Categories:
sporty, beauty, garden, life, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
Autumn surrounds the lake
Vibrancy vivacious, romantic
Blue in the rippling eye
Dark speck, a boat
Grows bigger and bigger
The laughter
Her auburn hair thrown back,
Her subtle loveliness
He stares at the landscape of love
Day bellows in briskness
And a tartan blanket
Smoothed on her lap
A sporty arm around her shoulder
Shadows falling effervescent
Sweethearts head for home
Trees retreat into dusk
Crunch of falling leaves underfoot
Spark of embers dying
Flame of color extinguished
Except for her lips
Pressed into his memory book
Soft, blush, frolic
Of a burgeoning wish
Small leaf adrift on tranquil waters
Occupier eyes the couple with jealousy
A miniature copy, this sister a faerie
Speckled toadstool over her head
She conjures a rainstorm
To get goody two shoes wet
But she slips into his arms
He asks
Rainstorm pulls the lovers along
To make a permanent hitch
A flying leaf, a faerie aboard
Stomps her teeny tiny feet
Wipes away her tears
Gives in, wishes well
For their happily ever after
11/18/2020
Categories:
sporty, autumn, fairy, love,
Form:
Narrative
This is hard to live with everyday
Thinking and wondering was it me.
Did i do something to hurt my unborn child
I know where my baby is, they feel no pain
I love you with all my heart and i will never forget you
If i have anymore children they will know of you
I think about you all the time
I wonder whose eyes you had
How tall would have been
If you would have been a Daddy's girl
Or a Mommy's boy
Would you have been sporty like me
Would you have been smart like me and Daddy
I wonder what you would have been when you grew up
I know most of these questions will be answered when i reach the other side
Mommy and Daddy love you very much
I know eventually the pain will start to fade
But you memory will always be in my heart.
Love you Always
Mommy
Categories:
sporty, death, loss, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
One morning in August
It is early morning, but the petrol station is open
A man stands outside drinking a beer and smokes a cigarette
Not for me to be critical; he needs it to face the day
Before goes to walk in an office on the other side of the road
He is chewing gum; probably he does some tedious work
Repairing computers.
The petrol station is filling up with cars I noticed the prices
Has gone up, others hang outside drinking coffee and
Talking about how expensive it is to drive, but in our society
People often have a long way to drive to work, and it is
Too cold to be sporty and use the bicycle, even the electric ones.
I have had a shower but since my balance unsteady so early
I sit on a kitchen chair inside the tub only get up when
Cleaning parts I cannot reach sitting down.
More and more cars fill the road, and I can’t be standing
Looking out all day long I have other things to do
Categories:
sporty, allusion, anger, angst, creation,
Form:
Blank verse
Gazing through the crystal clear morn,
Mirrors of curves in face,
Light winged feathers in the sky
Shrilling about yet another day;
With avid and sporty,
Besides discreet to humans.
Gazing through the crystal clear morn,
Dear of my heart stay ubiquitous,
Reflecting and revering the two curves
Albeit a day of dissatisfaction;
Replacing my heavy heart,
With his valley of lilies.
Gazing through the crystal clear morn,
Retrieving some moments in the far high
altitude,
A bliss of solitude of mind among the evergreen pines
There exist a tranquil paradise;
Fall cold chilly winds,
Holding our hands together to warm each
other.
Categories:
sporty, happiness,
Form:
Lyric
One Direction is the best pop group ever,
In lyrics and harmonies they are strong;
They take me to a place better than words,
It is to them that I happily belong.
They are all beautiful to me,
But Zayn is my favourite right now,
I am in the clouds when I see him,
He’s my you and I, to him I bow.
Louis and Niall are footballers, fireproof,
And Zayn does graffiti in public spaces,
It’s not fools gold to create known meanings,
To rock almost anyone in different places.
But Harry was popular instantly, kiss you,
Little things he did meant that many he excited;
So many teens over and over again,
Such that summer love was ignited.
Previously, I would like Liam the best,
Because he had that one thing for me,
He is sporty and lived while he was young,
A heart attack was just waiting for me to be.
But now its gotta be you, Zayn,
Your vocal runs are something great,
I wish that you’d write about your art and creativity,
When no control is your date.
C’mon c’mon One Direction,
Reunite once more and wear that little black dress,
No little white lies about why you can’t,
Don't forget where you belong, just say yes.
22/9/2015
I hesitated to post this one, because I'm somewhat embarrassed about liking One Direction. But it's better to be what you are than to be somebody else. So I'm happy to admit with both my hands up, I like One Direction.
(you may notice that there's the title of one of their songs in every line)
Categories:
sporty, celebrity, cheer up, children,
Form:
Rhyme
After chewing shoe leather they called steak,
in the Pencey cafeteria,
Mal, Ackley, and I enjoyed a winter afternoon on campus,
on the bus, and in a restaurant.
We walked across a puffy white quilt
as students conversed, laughed, and threw snowballs.
I held my snowball until the bus driver told me to leave it outside.
We had intended to see a comedy with Cary Grant,
but Mal and Ackley had already seen it.
We hung out in the restaurant played pinball and ate burgers.
Arriving back at our dorms at a quarter to nine,
Mel left for a bridge game
and Ackley shoved his acne ridden face into my pillow
until I told him I had a paper to write.
I couldn’t write what Stradlater wanted.
I couldn’t describe any rooms without elaborate furniture.
I couldn’t describe sporty rooms
with trophies on dressers and pennants on walls.
My brother Allie played baseball.
He wrote poetry on his catcher’s mitt with a green pen.
He stood in right field and recited verse from his imagination,
in his mind.
He died from leukemia very young.
I fell into a depression,
a garage,
a gym with windows to punch out.
I broke my hands against our station wagon’s windows.
I cannot make a tight fist.
I curl my fingers enough to type excerpts of Allie’s poetry
for a paper that will never be appreciated.
My red headed brother Allie,
such a good natured kid,
he had a good combination of extrovert and introvert,
avoiding anger.
Sitting on his bike fifty yards away
with his hair shining in the sun
as I teed off,
hoping to make a distant green and shoot under par.
Mom had scored a hole in one with him.
I still try to overcome unidentified handicaps
on a hazardous course.
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If you are intrigued by this work read and review G. D. Master’s book, “Interpretations,” free in PDF format on SmashWords.com. Enter “gd master” or “interpretations” in the search bar of SmashWords to find it.
Categories:
sporty, appreciation, brother, cancer, death,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Ode to Chores
By Brenda Kahn
When the Good Lord
In his wisdom, Hark!
Said “Separate
the light from dark.”
He surely didn’t
See that time
Would be a scarce
Resource to find
I throw my clothes-wash
In by person
Lest my crazed
Schedule worsen
If I did dark
Then later light
Lord knows I’d be
Doing wash all night
Now let’s take a
Look at dishes
Yes! I want to
Save the fishes
But if the washer
Doesn’t run
Each night the mornings
Won’t be fun
There will be no
Little spoons I trust
And everyone
Will miss the bus
And who is it
Who said that,
If we bought
A tabby cat
They would surely
Clean the litter
A chore which leaves me
Slightly bitter
Now babies
While they make a mess
Their culinary
In-ter-ests
Are simple
Older kids not so
They complicate things
As they grow
Till no meal happens
By the book
Less dinner – more
Short order cook
One says too sweet
One says no crust
One spits it out
With disgust
And if you find
A way to wrangle
Your whole brood
To the table
One eats fast
The other slow
Everyone answers
“I dunno”
Lordy what’s a mom to do
With such a cantankerous crew?
But I digress
Our topic here
Is what to do
With soccer gear
Piles of cleats
Sticks lacrosse
And other sporty
Stuff to toss
But instead
I make a bin
Label it
And throw stuff in
So take a cue
From my girl Eve
If you feel a sudden
Pull to leave
You’re not at all
The only one
Chores are simply
Not that fun.
Categories:
sporty, family, home, marriage, mom,
Form:
Ode
Now I’ve never been terribly sporty
For exercise isn’t my forte
But I’ve finally found
A sport that is sound
It involves getting naked and naughty
Categories:
sporty, funny, sports
Form:
Limerick
Walk along the river bank, lined with poplar trees,
Listen to the birds that sing their sweet melodies,
Mothers pushing strollers pause, to the humming bees,
A juggler keeps balls aloft, while on bended knees,
On the pond, pompous swans gracefully glide with ease,
Men in caps, meet on benches, enjoying coffees,
Children feed corn to hungry ducks, with quacking pleas,
Couples stroll the promenade, smiling in the breeze,
Picnickers open baskets of fruit, wine and cheese,
Playful dogs off leashes, catching flying frisbees,
Joggers pound the pavement, in shorts and sporty tees,
A beautiful day, to bask in eighty degrees.
January 15, 2017 Monorhyme for contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Categories:
sporty, family, friendship, imagery, love,
Form:
Rhyme