Best Sprinted Poems
OWSZAT
The match was slow and boring
The runs were far between,
And an air of dreamy somnolence
Hung o’er the village green.
Then out from the pavilion
A handsome figure ran.
The crowd sat up, paid notice,
A loud applause began.
The stranger sprinted round the pitch
Disrupting all the match,
The fielder halted in his stride
And dropped an easy catch.
The umpire tried to intervene
His finger raised in protest,
The streaker slipped beneath his guard,
It really was no contest.
The team stood up and egged him on
And cheered as he gained speed,
It was a very daring act
They one and all agreed.
But when his little dangly bits
Removed the Home Team’s wicket,
A cry went roaring round the ground
“Egad Sir – that’s not cricket!”
Categories:
sprinted, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
Strength is not the
resistance of
falling,
nor the man who
moves mountains by
force.
It is not determined
by weights lifted,
nor the beads of
sweat that trickle
from his brow.
It is not muscle. It
is not efficiency.
Strength is not ease
displayed in
adversity,
nor the prevention
of shedding tears.
It is not determined
by hills sprinted,
the lack of aches
and pains after
exercise.
It is not hardness.
It is not power.
Strength is the rise
from tragedy,
the man who moves
mountains by faith.
It is the lone
blossom daring to
bloom in snow,
the drive erected
from words meant to
defeat.
It is persistence.
It is aspiration.
It is valor.
It is you.
Categories:
sprinted, faith, power, strength,
Form:
Free verse
There were three mice, members of the mob
Wanted to retire, so planned one last job
It was deep winter and it started to snow
But they weren't deterred, and the job was a go.
Their names were Gnasher, Scratcher and Dred
And you dared not cross them or you'd end up dead
Even cats were afraid of their deadly scratch
But very soon they would meet their match.
The target they hit was John O'Neils dairy
But things were now going to get a bit scary
At the main entrance was a large welcome mat
And sprawled all across it was this mean looking cat.
Their luck was in and the cat was asleep
They ran towards him and then took a leap
There was a small hole by the front door
Soon they were in, and on the shop floor.
With some small cartons they built a bridge
Reached the door handle and opened the fridge
In the mousey world it was the ultimate goal
A rare box of cheddar cheese and that's what they stole.
Meanwhile outside puss began to wake up
Was very thirsty and wanted a sup
Then in the snow small footprints he spied
The game was now up for the three mice inside.
He spotted the thieves and he gave chase
But they sprinted off at a very fast pace
The God of mice was looking down on them today
They didn't get the cheddar, but they got clean away.
The camera's were played back the very next day
As the drama unfolded there were gasps of dismay
Puss was so happy his boss he did please
By foiling the robbery and saving the cheese.
O'Neil was so impressed with the actions of his cat
He rewarded him with sardines and a brand new mat
But for the three poor mice, it ended in tears
They were eventually arrested and all got ten years.
Written 16th January 2018
Categories:
sprinted, cat, funny, hilarious, snow,
Form:
Narrative
The thunder reached them well before
it's shadow flashed along the shore
as whirlwinds from the steady beat
knocked fleeing hordes from off their feet.
Thousands sprinted to the surf
except a few who had the nerve
and put up spirited defence
and fell in flares of heat intense.
Fast and low, wings whipped the waves
glistening scales of charcoal, Jade.
Skimming clifftops, banking right,
climbing until out of sight,
then corkscrew dive in view it hove
and settled in a quiet cove.
On rocky crag where beast had fetched
it gazed down on her wings outstretched,
mother of pearl breast warmed by sun
she looked up at the one who'd come.
Crimson eyes met gaze of blue,
"Vanilla's sold out- will chocolate do?"
For contest- 'Dragons', sponsored by Silent One.
October 19th 2015
Categories:
sprinted, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
sprinted by the love of lust
firmly walked by those who trust
breathed upon by warm desire
moments spent beside the fire
plotted out with marked restraint
fallen to by swoon and faint
gazed upon with starry eyes
muddy from heartbroken cries
baptized by a single tear
never trod by those who fear
timid, shy, reluctant feet
mindful of the stones we meet
stumbled on by reckless feet
softened where two lovers meet
blind to any right or wrong
lost within a lover’s song
blind to where the path will lead
lost to travel paths of need
Categories:
sprinted, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Before I start I just want to say that I will always love you Baby..
I am letting you go, so go you are free
Free to learn that you were meant for me,
The pain and misery of our history,
Shall never flee from inside of me,
I deserve better than this,
You know I do,
But all I've ever wanted
Was what I deserve,
To come from you,
Dating is preparing,
Preparing to give all,
I gave you everything,
A mistake that led to our downfall,
I did it anyway,
Because I want you forever,
But you are my first relationship,
And I didn't know any better,
If only you knew exactly how I feel,
You would not be so upset,
That I need time for my heart to heal,
You've done me wrong so many times,
Which are comparable to murder,
But as relationship crimes,
I know we both never wanted this,
We sprinted off the start,
Racing towards infinite bliss,
Only to run out of breath,
And slowly move apart,
And lose eachother in innocent mist.
So when you come back,
You will be yourself once more,
Not who you are now,
But that innocent girl from before,
And since you have a tolerance to,
The greatest part of me given to you,
I will be come an even better man,
So when I learn how to give again,
I will be ready to take your hand...
By Janetta's Grandson.
A poem on a downhill relationship of me and my first relationship. I was getting
treated
badly because I became obsessive after a hard time in my life and she took
advantage of
it. So I postponed our future and let her go so she can see what she is doing
and go back
to the girl she used to be, in the meantime I'm going to focus on getting back on
my feet
again.
Categories:
sprinted, lost love, love, me,
Form:
Free verse
III.
But I had a much higher purpose now,
damned or not, I would serve the True God,
for thirty years I served with my brothers,
upon a humble path I faithfully trod.
Maybe I wasn’t a miracle worker,
though I saved lost pilgrims in my time,
age etched lines in my brothers’ faces,
but it had no effect upon mine.
The abbot swore newcomers to secrecy
about the truth of my vampiric fate,
and I guess I believed I’d just go on
serving an eternity in this way.
But one day as the sun started to set,
I looked out upon a terrible sight:
A small girl running, screaming in fear
as a wolf closed on in for a bite.
I hesitated for just a moment,
the sun was high enough that I would burn,
but the terrified cries of a five-year old
were not something from which I could turn.
I sprinted out with unnatural speed,
instantly my skin erupted in flames,
raced past the girl, thrust my burning hand
to the wolf with jaws of snapping rage.
The fire seared both myself and the beast,
with frantic yelps of pain he then ran off,
I staggered back, my pale skin burned to black,
bits of flesh had flaked off and were lost.
I made it back to the small gatehouse
and I collapsed in the shadows within,
the abbot ran close, with my fading strength
I weakly tried to say goodbye to him.
But he just looked down, said,”We need blood.
Run to the chapel and fetch me the wine!”
A brother raced off, returned with the jug,
made no sense to my greatly pained mind.
He filled a chalice, look to the Heavens,
said,”Lord, I know that I am no priest.
But if he must die, let him drink of Your blood,
let him take part at last in Your mercy.”
I felt this would be a fitting way to die,
burned by the holy blood of my Lord.
But when I drank I did not feel the fire,
in fact I didn’t feel pain anymore!
I didn’t see it myself, but they say
that the charred skin beat a fast retreat,
and through the haze I managed to feel
a deep breath and a steady heart-beat!
When I sat up the sun came through a window
and it fell harmlessly upon my skin,
I felt true hunger, thirty years overdue,
by His power I once more was human!
They said In Him All Things Are Possible,
and I suppose I am the living truth,
strangest of all I still looked a young man,
blessed with the power and passion of youth...
CONCLUDES IN PART IV.
Categories:
sprinted, change, dark, evil, faith,
Form:
Epic
Back in 2013 the President 'resetting,' drew a line in the sand
Syria sprinted across it; faced no response from our end
So, Bashir Assad killed his own countrymen with chemical gas
hundreds upon thousands fled Syria, Europe's problem, alas*
Then near the end of his term, ignoring his every general's advice
DJT threatened to pull the plug on Afghanistan one night
--thought a quick exit for his 'resume' would be nice
And now JB's gone and done it, what a horrific choice we face
To recognize the Taliban, an admission of disgrace
A low blow to all our brave troops who died in that place
Yet if we cut off the Taliban; if we can't bite out lips
ISIS stands ready to blow Afghanistan to bits
Now I'm not just complaining; I've a simple solution at hand
No more Presidents play-acting Commander-in-Chief
-- without military service beforehand
Let's have a former soldier who honors and respects his command
who can discern perils in jungles, deserts and mountain badlands
If this means a separate office for Commander-in-Chief
I'm all for it: Enough of my countrymen's (and the free world's) disbelief
And if you feel I'm all wet, think 2029... Try to envision
AOC** reviewing troops, making life-and-death decisions
_______________________________________________________
*Even today, as I write this, Syrians homeless since 2013 are being
used as political pawns by Russia and Belarus, who have flown them
in (!) to crowd the border of Poland, where they 'live' in unsanitary,
makeshift 'cities' -- all as part of Russian blackmail to force Poland
and its European backers' hands. (Source: Wall-Street Journal,
November 13, 2021, page 1 report).
**Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez... a popular 30 year-old member of the
House of Representatives, an avowed Democrat-Socialist, who's
backed open borders, defunding the police, and many other such
'progressive policies.'
Categories:
sprinted, america, death, future, life,
Form:
Political Verse
TYPICAL 30 - The Start of the 2013-2014 NHL Season
30 of them began their battle with hopeful beginnings
But 14 of them will have their early exit...
As for the 16 teams, their Stanley Cup Playoffs dream begins
The SWEET 16 were chosen, who will be the ones to take the fall?
Round 1 of the 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs
Let the First Round Battle Begin!
SWEET 16 - The First Round of the 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs
16 of them sprinted out from the starting line
But 8 of them fell short to advance...
The Tampa Bay Lightning couldn't produce any more thunder
The Detroit Red Wings ran its last engine
The St. Louis Blues have played its final note
The Dallas Stars could no longer lead the charge
The Columbus Blue Jackets fired its last cannon
The Philadelphia Flyers have crashed down
The Colorado Avalanche buried themselves in the snow
And the San Jose Sharks couldn't take a final bite
The ELITE 8 were chosen, who will the ones to take the fall?
Round 2 of the 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs
Let the Second Round Battle Begin!
ELITE 8 - The Second Round of the 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs
8 of them advanced to the next stage
But 4 of them failed to advance...
The Minnesota Wild could no longer pull a wild run
The Pittsburgh Penguins were left on frozen thin ice
The Boston Bruins were hunted down
And the Anaheim Ducks quacked no more
The FINAL 4 were chosen, who will the ones to take the fall?
Round 3 of the 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs
Let the Conference Finals Begin!
FINAL 4 - The Third Round of the 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs
4 of them advanced to the next stage
But only 2 of them will go to the final stage...
The Montreal Canadiens were left in a cold state
And the Chicago Blackhawks final stand ended in complete defeat
The TREMENDOUS 2 were chosen, who will be the one to win it all?
The Final Round of the 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs
Let the Stanley Cup Final Begin!
TREMENDOUS 2 - The Final Round of the 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs
2 of them danced on the big stage
But only 1 of them was crowned as the champion...
The New York Rangers could not lead the way to the finish
The ONLY 1 was chosen, a team who won through it all!
Los Angeles Kings - The 2014 Stanley Cup Champions
Let the Stanley Cup Playoffs End!
Categories:
sprinted, fun, games, hockey, pride,
Form:
Narrative
Over the hillsides, together we burned space and time
Galloping with the wind...
Clouds took me by the hand,
Wind took you by the mane
Nothing outside our world could rival this perfect blend
Of motion, devotion, the sunshine and scented rain
I would close my eyes, and trust in the rhythm's rise
O' beautiful creature, your movements touched the very sky
Every stride, would sweep me to another world
Unfurled so far from all my childhood fears
As runaway dreamers,
we sprinted into the future of timeless memory
and heard the infinite past at the heels of your enchanted hoof
Where ancestors once felt this very connection
At one with nature, a blending of what is blessed
In the deep evening light of the first early, wintery chill,
as a comet that shoots through the eye of an in-coming storm
We were crystals, encased in a layer of ice and love
Just a trace of a moon, that sailed between the soft, leaden clouds
In the thrill of the cold, with the glorious snowflakes falling,
and the sight of your warm breath streaming,
there was white drifting smoke, in caress of the moonlight beaming
Indented, undefined, is a trail left behind
Such a moment is proof.... in all legends divine
That when snow falls around the hills, at the end of the day,
Nothing can erase that we passed this way
We were the messengers...that rode with the wind
That the hearts of species as wide as the universe
With spirits connecting two souls as one
Hearts can beat as one....drawn together, like poetic and timeless music
I am part of you....and you are part of me
And that both hearts can feel the same remorse when day is done
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In memory of "Queenie".... an amazing Sorrel Quarterhorse,
For the Contest: "PETS", sponsored by Shadow Hamilton 11/13/14
Categories:
sprinted, animal, horse, pets, universe,
Form:
Ode
Holding your hands in mine
Hoping you won't let go
After what I tell you..
Before we begin,
There's something I want you to know.
You're number 21.
I walked to your house that morning.
You sprinted clumsily to the door.
We helped each other cook breakfast
And ate until we could eat no more.
But I've had mornings like this before.
You're number 21.
We walked downtown in the sunlight.
Another perfect-weathered afternoon.
Brought a few friends, caffeinated and different,
But you and I are obviously in tune.
Do not assume too much too soon.
You're number 21.
The evening comes too quickly.
And now we're completely alone.
Talking of things, humorous, sweet, musical.
Our thoughts and feelings in a cyclone.
Trying not to use a romantic tone.
You're number 21.
I've done it before and seen it all.
I don't want you to think you're the first.
So many girls and so many times,
This whole course of action feels rehearsed.
But none have done better at quenching my thirst.
You're number 21.
Perhaps you are more than just a number,
From bland statistic to complex equation.
The substance in your simplicity intrigues me.
My eyes are now open to the realization.
Quite the unexpected sensation.
You're number 21.
There's nothing wrong with the way you're designed.
Compared to the previous, you are the most fun.
Regrets would bring insanity if left unsigned.
Perhaps my search for numbers is done.
You just might be the one.
You're number 21.
Categories:
sprinted, art, love, music,
Form:
Rhyme
her kisses were glacial...honest
she devoured every star on which she rode
at times, amber spirits would peal the veneer
expose the pulp of her mind...scarred...
one night the shine sprinted from her grasp,
living dullened that wild horse stride...
she curled up in my heart palm,
wilted and worn-like a scorched flower
slashed by the lightning streaks of life...
told me she was frightened of it all
at times she wished to be weak,( to sow strength?)
to be legless, aimless( to polish the stride of her wandering being?)
at the end she devolved
her heart became a cloud high paper wall,
on which everyone scribbled their hate...
but nobody breeched her heart like i did
nobody
that is our legacy...screw them all...
we were
a smear of black and red petals in the morning frost...
a frost ,that for now kisses all my dreams
she was strength- weakness
a rainbow of disease
buckled
but
complete...in this brevity called her life.
R.I.P
K.P
Categories:
sprinted, death, heart, life, loss,
Form:
Elegy
It all starts off at the anode,
where the electrons are lost,
they went bumping and shooting through the wire
and set the voltmeter on fire.
There's a huge crash-land in the cathode,
where the cations are reduced,
then the anions sprinted back through the salt bridge,
and electricity is produced.
Categories:
sprinted, fun, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
Huldra
In the green valley
Near lake blue and pink salmon
Lived a huldra
Beautiful in human eyes
But trolls had rejected her
Ugly in their eyes
I heard her desolate song
Saw her shimmering
Blond as Iberian sea straw
Made gold-leaved by the sun
I saw her tail too
And before she charmed me
Sprinted for my life
Since folklore has made it clear
Human and trolls may not mix
Because if they do
The offspring will be rejected
By trolls and human
And for perpetuity be lost
Walking the strand of loneliness
(Huldra, Female Troll in Nordic mythology)
They have bad renomé and that´s a pity)
Categories:
sprinted, animals,
Form:
Idyll (Idyl)
Janet went down to the honky-tonk
for some line-dancing and some beer,
down to a joint called ‘Edna Mae’s,’
she always had a good time here.
Old Edna, tattooed, worked the bar,
three bikers player pool, one guy scarred,
a country band played Hank up front,
soon her first beer Janet had drunk.
She joined in with all the dancers
and did soon find herself besides
a blond-haired cowboy who moved well,
with such deep, haunting, grey eyes.
After working a sweat both took leave,
at the bar he said,”Hi, I’m Steve.”
Up and down Janet’s eyes did roam,
he was the type she could take home.
They both did shots, rot-gut whiskey,
then made their way back to the floor,
there they both kept up the hot moves,
for another full hour more.
In a corner the two made out,
she took his hand and led him down
the front steps towards her small car,
for adult fun, they would go park.
But Steve froze at the sight of it,
then ripped his hand clean from her grasp.
he turned and sprinted for the bar,
she’d never seen a man move so fast.
Confused, she followed him back in,
could not find Steve, started looking,
half-hour passed, he was not found,
she went to the bar, and sat down.
Janet told Edna about it,
who listened to what Janet did say.
Edna smiled, and asked softly:
“Did this man have deep eyes of grey?”
Janet confirmed the truth of this,
Edna said,”Come to my office.”
She took down a picture, carefully,
said,”Took this back in ’eighty-three.”
Janet gasped at the image there,
what she saw then beggared belief,
where, dressed in nineteen eighties clothes,
was the young, grinning face of Steve!
“He was my partner’s son, you know.
He rode the local rodeos.
But then in eighty-three he died,
murdered, in the lot outside.”
CONCLUDES IN PART II
Categories:
sprinted, dance, jealousy, loss, lust,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry