To keep learnin¨g and teaching;
To keep elevating and reaching;
Is to never stop, to avoid ceasin¨g,
Allowing Christ in us to be increasing.
What we have seen and heard,
Let us show and tell
And fly like a bird,
Ever thriving to finish well.
God will always be God.
Give Him glory; never avoid.
God will never be coached or led
He is Our Father, Our Head.
Categories:
coached, graduate,
Form: Verse
Here's a more detailed approach
you don't need to be advised or coached
our behaviours
the love language we use
us together is a lovely mood
actively listening
trying to understand
showing concern
just holding hands
a kiss as a reference
understanding her needs
knowing her preference
the act of pursuing
with the intention of affection
being consistent in each
and every direction
nonbelligerency
48 minutes is
2880 seconds
Cryostat to
materials science,
plasma physics,
and reactor design
Terms that describe
Fusion decency
they had argued over the taste of sweetbreads
with her not willing to taste it
.So he said his wife had a different story.
He made mention of both price and referenced it to
the taste of chicken: she'd bite!
"She said I thought the waiters name was
Thymus!" " he said, who is Thymus?"Dolce Bap;
the high level of anticipation, show stopping caliber
The taste of Thymus"
Categories:
coached, film, food, sports,
Form: Ballad
When I think of all the things my mother taught me
and all the things my father said
I am really glad that some things,
went by the wayside
while other things aren't dead !
As I recall my mother bold and headstrong
the way she coached me until the very end
I also recall my father's words of caution
and the way he raised me,
with just one single smile.
Reflections of the Past * Visions of the Future
Mom and dad both taught me how to live
As I hold onto sutures of yesterday's once was
I unravel truths about myself,
each time I stop, think and pause.
Categories:
coached, appreciation,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
I weave a narrative of unspeakable taboo, a symphony of sighs and groans, a cacophony of defiled innocence.
Your body, a temple of decadence, a sanctum of sadomasochistic excess, where the strictures of societal mores are rent asunder, and the very fabric of reality is torn apart.
Echolalic luminaries periodically tilt, their sumptuary influence shrinking villages into steel vexations.
Precedence of principles and codes, a paradigm of insecurity, influences vermillion equations.
Jeopardized crescents and tacit furor satisfy the economist’s balloons, coached through versions of fossilized tutelage.
Cathedrals of vice and transgressions wraith through legends, inferring civilian nudists infected by hurakens.
Cultures torque and embark, communicating through the columns of Groningen.
Chiaroscurist initiations of mnemonic memories effloresce in alabaster vigils, aberrant cadastral mortmain consuming convergent dispossessed flâneries.
Categories:
coached, dark, death, deep, education,
Form: Free verse
Had given Willie all of our praise;
To see great plays would watch Mays;
Out in field, we did find him roam;
A baseball field was friendly home.
To play baseball always did love;
Caught fabulous flies with his glove;
When the bases had been loaded,
He hit ball and bat exploded.
After runners crossed the bases,
We would see smiles on their faces;
After they had scored run by run,
Found that game was finally done.
Amazing Mays was no longer here;
Frantic fly Into clear sky did disappear;
Baseball always would love and laud;
New team on will be coached by God.
Categories:
coached, anxiety, baseball,
Form: Rhyme
Stepin' in I look around...
inquisitively I'm coached,
all eyes piercing yet no sound...
it is all-new then I am approached
not sure how long I've been detained
only now I'm no-longer a stranger,
I maintained, abstained, retained,
was ordained restrained, constrained,
obtained, sustained, untrained,
attained, not explained
thinking I'd so complain,
back through that lore...
oh! that lore from wince I came,
only to enter another door,
So it was once said,
One door closes
One door opens
On on on till
will they let me go before I'm dead.
Categories:
coached, abuse, anger, anxiety, confusion,
Form: Free verse
In times of discord and debauchery
the need to tell the whole world the truth
yet who knows what is truth today
the powers to be, a mask
that of intolerance
to manipulate
each living day
coached to be
passive
dumb.
© Harry J Horsman 2020
Categories:
coached, trust, truth,
Form: Etheree
Connie was my friend, and I miss her smile.
Like a poem written in her own style,
she coached me to go that extra mile
and took the time to chat once in a while,
one of God's angels; she fit the profile.
(Monorhyme)
09/25/2022
Short Connie Tributes - Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
Categories:
coached, angst, anxiety, death, emotions,
Form: Monorhyme
Seasonal batons on planet earth are what they are.
Their 'meets' are annually, and they like to compete.
They have lots of freedom, but are well coached.
All four of them are united in their 'events'.
Each one has special roles to meet their goal.
They are from the same stock but each is unique.
She may wet you, wind you, or even hurricane you,
but all things being equal, Autumn is my kind of season.
082522PS
Categories:
coached, autumn,
Form: Couplet
Catholic education taught me all my Ps and Qs
when nuns and priests coached a child's reluctant view,
in a quandary and a quiver
to kneel up straight and perfectly perpendicular,
amidst the gold and platinum rich cathedrals
churches of quicksand-like quag pews medieval,
shaped for the prostrating prayerful penitent
awaiting an offenders penance and its remnants,
in somber quiet of quaint old confessional tombs
while incense burns a bitter scented perfume ,
quintessentially questioning everything qued
perpetuating a quay to conclude
when to sink or swim in perplexing quirky quotes
of pseudo pallid pantomimes of forgiveness and hope,
when tranquil poise in prayer
extolls the loss of childhood innocence repaired.
Using up those Ps and Qs with an added one or two.
Penance Poise Perfume Platinum
Quay Quiver Quandary Quaint
for the sponsor of contest Mind Your Ps and Qs
Michelle Faulkner
2/19/21
Categories:
coached, analogy, christian, conflict,
Form: Rhyme
Something haunting about his voice.
Sorrowful, lingering around the edges.
I do not fully see him,
he is a grayscale blur, something elusive
The lyrics are lonely and sad.
His mother prayed him into existence,
he sings this as if he thinks it was an unhappy circumstance
Love for his father comes through
He claims loneliness, yet is it not self-imposed?
He wrote one hundred songs in his twenty-five years.
Was encouraged and coached by the Beach Boys
A little Iowa child, like me, born six months before I was
The last photo of Tommy taken back stage
made it into Rolling Stone Magazine.
He was big time, but may not have known it.
John Marlowe, of the Miami News said,
“Take care of yourself.”
He said, “Don’t worry. I will be here a long time”.
He died a few hours later
Heroine, cocaine, alcohol and barbiturates.
Something haunting about his voice.
Categories:
coached, drug, music,
Form: Free verse
Our friend was unflappable,
regardless of what happened.
She handled every trial
smoothly—without weary sighs.
We considered her our guide,
and she coached us through hard times,
like a well-trained therapist,
this unique friend we cherished.
We saw how focused on self
we’d been when SHE asked for help—
advice! Now we’re equal, each
with strength all the others seek.
My FIRST Englyn, placed 5th of seven in Beth Evans's contest in June 2020
Categories:
coached, friendship,
Form: Englyn
like callous comet
bully cloud belched
punctured pills puked
vying nauseated view
dark dances drool
squashing strained mood
like taunted torrent
rustic rain rent
wanky waves melt
gaunt boulevard growling
tainted trees throwing
hoisted hampered hankering
such sassy trends
coached Dimash's crest.
'20:03:07:10:44
Note: Dedicated to Dimash Kudeibergen
Categories:
coached, hero,
Form: Sonnet
Our fifteenth year, you and I
If we were married, the ‘crystal’ mile
And oh, we have had our highs, breaking up lunchtime fights
Breaking down novels line by line
Translating Shakespeare to Spanish
for those nonverbal in this language
Dulcet quatrains melted into rounded syllables, thick on my tongue
Still we manage to tease out delicate images
And the consolation of a paycheck educators receive
Not enough to ease the mirage of beach
Allure of waves and palm trees
In rude January (the ultimate schoolyard bully)
You and I have chaperoned this prom, attended this play
Coached this race, given chase to elusive grades
Counted victories in syllables
Pivoted around yawning youths, heads down
or kids attempting to find favor with last minute Starbucks gifts
And still we sit in sweet September
Whole and hopeful, rested, restored
Once again to go around this playground called high school
2/1/19
Categories:
coached, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Lyric
The feeling to write about her I couldn't escape.
The atmosphere she posses I take as cape.
Her stern voice coached me to cry for some reasons.
I'm always in miss, for I'm mostly away for some seasons
Her touch grew me marvellously.
Her Love flourishes me vigorously.
Yes...
She was and still a woman tight to my blood.
Her patience for me is much powerful could stop a flood.
She is a Grandma I'll never sacrifice for thirty pieces.
She is always here to model me to be one amongst Aces.
Yes...
she's the woman always next to my heart
Date : Friday, 04 May 2018
Categories:
coached, grandmother, love,
Form: Free verse
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