Best Sprinting Poems
Moon is still behind glum clouds
Sullen is the garb of a silent sky
So much like how he feels tonight
Anxious in the night laden in dark
Stars are opaquely hanging listless
Like the glimmer of her grieved vibes
Dimming in saddened teary eyes
Refusing to proffer a happy smile
A chatter heard from birds’ nest
Breaks their muffled silence
Quivering pulse of anguished feelings
Rattling summer’s lavender dreams
Drifting away in coral winds
From fragrant garden’s ruby appeal
A lone bird now leaves its abode
And sits close by, staring at him
Ambivalent of travails it heard
Unsure to yield, unwilling to leave
Bawl of strife’s persistent despair
Slowly fades in decaying night
As moon is starting to pierce dark,
So are the twinkles of distant stars
Waning in purple of rising dawn
Glinting on blush of the tinted arc
Seeing the lone bird sprinting above
Spanning wings in blazing speed
Fleeing emptiness of vacant scene
Much like him… way ahead of him
July 12, 2020
July Na Or Hm Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Hm received in contest judged on 7/14/2020
Contest Name: Completely New (9) Any Form Any Theme
Categories:
sprinting, anxiety, break up,
Form:
Free verse
I played quietly sometimes
With crayons, books and pictures
Creating crafts that only a child
Could enjoy or imagine with
Images of brilliant hues and hopes
I played silently sometimes
With animals that had taught me
Of the value of friendship
Listening and caring with the heart
Loving like there is only God
I played furiously sometimes
With footballs, skates and jump ropes
Knowing the heavy beat of feet
Skipping, darting, sprinting
Through dense grass and woods
I played joyously sometimes
With hues of passion whispering
Shooting stars surrounding me
Beckoning me to dream and believe
The miracles that embrace the soul
I played along the edge of rivers
With a hunger and thirst for the caress
Of liquid as it purges the flow
Echoes across smooth stones
Invaluable blessings of grace
I played, played and played some more
With delight, pleasure and insight
Knowing the meaning of God’s gift
Caressing me from every side
The sun, rain, clouds, flowers, birds
I play today with the promise of heaven
Awaiting me there in the skies
Like a gift too wonderful to open
It hangs above the sun and I anticipate
The joy that it will hold when I go there
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (27) ,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Brian Strand
August 26, 2020
Categories:
sprinting, 2nd grade, appreciation, child,
Form:
Free verse
Winter be but two weeks old and already they lament.
No passion seems as strong as their loudest prayer for spring.
Spring will come when it will and wake the grasses and willow.
Let Natures brief time of slumber last long enough to rest her.
The winter be time for beauty to be found on ice etched panes,
And bayonets of glass, hanging from every eave to be seen.
Winter be found in crystalline air so pure only heroes inhale it.
And footsteps crunch like breaking luttuce upon the snowy ground.
Beyond winter times will speed and rush their way forward.
Spring then Summer and Autumn sprinting to their ultimate ends.
Let winter luff her way on tiny frozen feet while fire warms yours.
Add another log and settle in for a long nap and a dream.
Categories:
sprinting, naturewinter, prayer, autumn, time,
Form:
Narrative
In a tossing and turning night, to wake up I forgot
Never slipping from a series of perpetual dream
A strange situation over and again, escape I could not
In the fabric of this woolgather, I couldn’t tear the seam
A speech in front of hundreds, I yearned to scream
Standing in my underwear, my shaking voice was caught
Closing my eyes tightly, trying to change the theme
In a tossing and turning night, to wake up I forgot
Skating across the ice, I wind up to take my shot
I miss the net completely, letting down the team
I’m stuck in a roar of booing heckles, an onslaught
Never slipping from a series of perpetual dream
Shut these lids again, restarting in a shallow stream
Running with aching legs amidst a forest, I am shot
A hunter hovers over me, to finish his prey I deem
A strange situation over and again, escape I could not
With the bang I take off again, sprinting on the spot
There is no ground below, I plummet from a height extreme
Anticipating the collision, pinching to change the plot
In the fabric of this woolgather, I couldn’t tear the seam
Is it over? Am I out of this self-induced figment regime
In a jolt and thud, I reach the cloth of bed that I’ve sought
A sigh of exhaustion and relief, I’m all out of steam
Bedding and pillows askew in the chaos that I brought
In a tossing and turning night.
June 6th, 2022
A RONDEAU REDOUBLE POEM Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
Categories:
sprinting, dream, night,
Form:
Rondeau Redouble
Piercing screams slice the air
Creating a sense of joy with laughter
Coloring the moments in exhilaration
Left behind from some child’s imagination
Echoes of small feet darting and sprinting
Leaving stirrings of complete abandonment
The knowing that comes from sharing hours
Spent in breathless bliss, creating wonders
That last through the day and well into night
Stabbing at the hot sun and startling the stardust
Twinkles of a night breaking into angelic song
One little girl holds the jump rope’s end
As another child skips to the beat of its spin
Leaving another girl waiting by the oaks
Hoping to take a turn when the time is right
A small boy holds a ball and seems intent
On tossing it across the grassy field
Where so many others have played this game
Before, moving to the bases and shouting
With enthusiasm… children filled with elation
Dancing in waves of lavender and rose, azure tones
Caress the buttery sun with sincerity that comes
From knowing this is a day about to be spent swirling
Twisting and turning, spiraling out of control, thriving
In the kind, but fleeting hours that awaken gladness
And soothe the soul in seas of compassion and creativity
Discovered on the wings of fairies and friends who grow up
Together, on the playground that holds such charming memoirs
On this playing field, this playground, every soul is essential
A thought expressed by the one who knows that this world
Dances to life when their feet hasten across fresh grass
Leaving only the dreams to last beneath the melodies of dew
And sun, rain and moon, starry nights when every thought knows
The playground is where a yearning goes to find love alive inside
It is captured in the reflection of laughing eyes on every smile
From child to child – playing out the song inside their hearts!
On the playground… there is butterfly dreams and kisses
From a breeze that whispers of serenity which brings
Faithful friends together on wonderous wings of innocence
On the playground… there is pure love
Playground Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Shreya LN
June 13, 2021
Categories:
sprinting, child, childhood, children, heart,
Form:
Free verse
You are a bright fallen star from the mesmerizing sight up above,
You make my tender heart pump pure blood of joy with just a minor glance,
If only you would grant me the blissful privilege to call you my love,
To my painful despair your angelic nose is pointed to the sky and you look down upon me,
If only given the honour to acknowledge my existence that craves your mystical romance,
But because of my economic status and laughable looks me, you shall never see,
As more than a dirty petty jester who could never compare to your immense power,
I am foolish to ever have thought I stood a pleading chance,
To you your majesty I will forever bow down and cower,
Until I feel your heart beat back then I shall manoeuvre into my sprinting stance.
June 12, 2018
Rhyme Time 4- 10 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
3rd Place
Categories:
sprinting, desire, devotion, heartbroken, longing,
Form:
Rhyme
Wait! Wait! Slow down, time.
Try moving like a snail for once.
How quickly you drain your sand
As soon as the hourglass flips upside down.
Knock it flat; keep it horizontal, for once!
You shake me wide awake early morning,
Then you sprint off like Cheetah at full speed.
I need you to stand at ease; linger long enough
For me to at least savor all golden moments
With my better half before I walk out the door.
Slow down the ticking hand of the clock, time.
Stop drifting away with the evanescent clouds
And chasing after every gust of wind!
When will you learn to co-operate?
When parallel lines merge at infinity?
Wait for me. Just wait! Why not try walking?
I wish to put away my worn-out running shoes
Allow me to keep up with your supersonic speed
Pause the morning buses and trains
I drop things sprinting to hop on!
Let me catch up and let's stroll down
The footpath in the vernal meadow of life.
Let the world match you step by step.
Extend the halcyon days of summer
You move much too fast, you devil you!
Hold up! Can I at least get sick
Before I die? Work with me, time.
Where are you always hurrying off to?
I really wish you could crawl...
Just like a snail, very slowly.
Date written: 12/23/2020
Categories:
sprinting, perspective, poetry, time,
Form:
Free verse
I was working for Jack Daymond, a farmer,
who farmed livestock, potatoes and vines.
I s’pose he had over two hundred cattle.
The spuds and the grapes grew in lines.
Oh gawd! Jack had me slaving ‘til sunset,
keeping his farm spick and span.
Jack kept his eyes on the produce,
while I was his cleaning up man.
And that meant me days were all busy,
spraying and killing off weeds,
grubbing out hundreds of tussocks,
before the darn thing set its seeds.
Sometimes old Jack was a good bloke,
he’d jump in with a fine helping hand,
and we’d spend our day in the paddock,
destroying the weeds on his land.
We were digging out plenty of thistles,
in the north paddock up near the creek,
and we worked like a couple of Trojans
clearing what should have taken a week.
Then a voice loudly filled up the air.
And it was quite menacing too.
A bloke in a suit was striding to us,
declaring his strong point of view.
“Mr. Daymond, I am here to warn you,
that I represent government’s need.
It appears that with government water,
that your quota you far did exceed.”
“I’m here to check your irrigation,
and make sure you’re not being unfair.”
Jack Daymond replied “Do what you must,
but don’t go in that paddock up there.”
The bloke in the suit became snaky,
standing over poor Jack with a leer,
“Don’t tell me where I can or can’t go,
See this card that I am holding here.”
“This card is a reminder to you,
I have authority over your land.
I am allowed to go wherever I wish,
have I made myself clear? Do you understand?'
Jack looked down at the card in his hand,
and knew there’s no sense to rebound,
so Jack nodded politely and joined me,
grubbing thistles from out of the ground.
It appeared that Jack had been beaten,
and in silence he’s taking it hard,
between thistles he gazed to the paddock,
at the bloke who had shown him the card.
But then a grin formed on his face,
we heard yelling like never before,
for the bloke in the suit he was sprinting,
and it’s something we cannot ignore.
Jack beat me on reaching the fence.
With the bloke in the suit in full flight,
and hot in pursuit was Jack’s Jersey bull,
with a look that was all sheer delight.
As the bloke in the suit got beside us,
with the bull behind him by a yard,
Old Jack cupped his hands and yelled out -
“Your card! Your card! Show him your card!”
Categories:
sprinting, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Written: February 19, 2024
____________________________________
The dam, in which
the tissue residue is present
has a saline ecosystem
despite the dryness
It is still preferable
to a carnival of wood and
burnt bryony bushes.
You could smell it.
from light-years afar
a tourniquet grasp of
saffron soil in a swooshing
flame is inscribed on the
plains armrest.
The grassland dips in
revealing slabs of an ancient utopia
the focal halftone of a
floating forehead features
a house of clovers motif
my torn lobes throb
beating as a breathing bruise,
hiding behind the partial eclipse
the integral aspects of
crimson maple.
I started overlapping
the threshold
to be buried as an
enigma in the depths of her soul
in the funnel, mists of ash, and shaking
sprinting into the intricacies of a
heavenly sanctuary
dubbed heart.
Categories:
sprinting, analogy, appreciation, emotions, heart,
Form:
Free verse
I was walking through the marshes,
When a turtle joined me.
He said, "If you *jog* you will feel free."
I was jogging at the field,
When a mouse joined me.
He said, "If you *run* you will feel free."
I was running through the woods,
When a squirrel joined me.
He said, "If you *sprint* you will feel free."
I was sprinting down the beach,
When a pelican joined me.
He said, "If you *walk* you will feel free."
2018
Categories:
sprinting, angel,
Form:
Rhyme
Before I compete at State Meet,
When I'm swinging on the bar,
While I'm sprinting toward the vault,
I imaging myself wearing gold.
Even though I'm nervous,
Even if I'm scared,
Since I've worked so hard,
I long not to just imagine, but to achieve.
Categories:
sprinting, dedication, happiness,
Form:
Free verse
The lines on the field are painted a bright white.
I see the sun set slowly behind the goal post.
My eyes are blinded by the electric light.
At games we go all out and do the most.
I can hear the sizzle and pop of greasy concession stand food.
The crowd cheers from the stands.
From around the corner a little kid playing tag begins to cry,
And music is played from the band.
The quarterback passes the ball,
And the cheerleaders yell for him to go all the way.
While he is sprinting to the end zone we hope that he does not fall.
“And that is another touchdown” we hear the announcer say.
This is a Friday night football game.
Someday these boys could reach real fame.
Categories:
sprinting, america, friendship, fun, sports,
Form:
ABC
My hand fits on it
holding it with expertise
I hold its oval body made of pig skin
Firmly to my chest
Sprinting down the field
Towards the "END ZONE"
Dodging strong, heavy bodies
Helmets hit, shoulders pads collide
As I throw the ball
On its last flight...Touchdown
Categories:
sprinting, sports,
Form:
Free verse
The tracks of life are set for replay
But we clear our path with might and goals
Sprinting onward come what may.
Looming clouds in our day
Threaten our sunshine, black as coals-
The tracks of life are set for replay.
If golden sunlight’s our pay
We grow for the race, just like foals-
Sprinting onward come what may.
Sometimes we glow from a beaming ray.
Who often foils our best laid goals?
The tracks of life are set for replay
We know the rules and follow them all the way
And carefully run for our souls
Sprinting onward come what may.
Great men and women all made from clay
Some are false starters some are moles;
The tracks of life are set for replay;
Sprinting onward come what may.
Categories:
sprinting, life,
Form:
Villanelle
Racing the oval of tide
Watching the sun and moon collide
Riding on horses in the oval of fate
Saddling on courses in the ring of slate
Horses in breeds of colors and shade
Forces in creeds of odors and glade
Mares and lasses of cold and wintry grounds
Grasses and races on parch, dusty mounds
Sun speaks of myths and bounds of horses' blether
Moon tweaks on blithes and squally weather
Sun and moon are light and dark horses
Scuttling, bustling in many races
Sprinting is a long distance course
Glinting and weltering without remorse
Humans breathe as horses, treading and running with reins
Born to win in the oval... praying, striving with strong veins!
Categories:
sprinting, courage, men, strength, women,
Form:
Rhyme