Best Volleys Poems

Poetry Thoughts

I write my poems in a deep thought
with the pain my life dearly bought
Lost, listening to my vanishing muse
this world's whispers I often use!

Words...

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CRAZE DURING FOOTBALL GAME

Up yellows; greens; reds and blue,
tell me! Tell me, who is through?
Passes. Crosses. Headers. Shots.
Volleys, blasters, more scissor kicks
tell me! Tell me,...

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A young man carrying a green duffel bag
over his shoulder shifts when he walks.
Off to war for our country and flag.
No military knowledge with little...

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Predator Antiqua Multis Versus Respiciens Tempus


I Watched Midnight Sun Fall Into Dark Shades Of Oblivion

Part I

I watched midnight sun fall into dark shades of oblivion
with...

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...He reformed the routing patriots,
formed a line atop a rise, Perrine’s Hill,
brought in General Knox and the artillery,
commanding the mass through sheer force of will.

He...

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...It also left their powder pretty wet,
but their was something command had foreseen,
and they brought extra artillery guns,
less vulnerable to the moisture’s sheen.

Washington hoped they’d...

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Pitcher deals.
Center snaps. 
Forward volleys.
Captain kneels.
Wing traps.
Road team rallies.
Runner steals.
Driver laps.
Bookies watch at O'Malleys.
Coach jaws.
Goalie paws.
Mothers pray.
Midfielder moans.
Winners eat macaroons.
Fathers look less gray.

Refs tally the...

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Alone I arrive, walking from Frederick
over the gaps, across gentle hills
out onto a knoll
overlooking this burnished landscape.
Before me I see countless writhing rows
of indiscernible shapes...

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A cacophony of cheers
Sand sprays like fireworks
From feet, hands, ball, hair.
Four women, two-a-side,
In a battle for the ages.

A motion of fluidity and a
Knowledge brought forth
From...

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Score's zip to zilch, last inning's near halfway through
at Gettysburg Commons' baseball league playoff.
Champion Graycoats at their posts hitherto -
Blue Jackets hear the pitcher's husky...

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Poetry Thoughts

I write my poems in a deep thought
with the pain my life dearly bought
Lost, listening to a vanishing muse
this world's whispers I often use!

Words...

Read more of this work...

As I look outside I see,
the setting sun behind the trees
This summer day is ending now
The season too will soon be gone.

Summer days again have...

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Sobbing of Mother

Who would be more knower definition of love?
When mother’s son sleeps untimely on the pool of blood
Timid when fires bullet triggering gun
Nozzle remains...

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Historically accurate, narrative poem

25 June, 1876 - Valley of the Little Bighorn

Nothing stirs this June night, not a summer’s breeze or a breath of life....

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Exracted from Gerald Nforche's Epic, The Slave's Tale


-Across the Atlantic, 1793-

And as days tumbled away, we staggered
Along, knock-kneed, dead beat and haggard.
Our bodies singing to...

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