Frisbees Poems | Examples

Yesterdays

The shuttlecock's not got a feather
my balls have lost their tether
yo-yo and hula hoop have gone for a loop
chasing rainbow's become a boring chore
in any kind of weather
and me I fling and fly frisbees no more
as now there's come the day
when games and music I can't play
the fiddle has a broken bow
out of wind such instruments
I know not how to blow
the guitar has no strings attached
the ukulele its self-same match
my drums I don't bang or bash
cymbals won't ride or crash
yet measure for measure
I treasure and love
the previously provided pleasure
by all of the above

Dunstable Downs

A hillside of walkers gathering slow
blend with the gold medal fields all aglow.
Kites finding freedom, flutter and flow
as looping Red Kites begin to swoop low.

Families with picnics bask in the sun
whilst ice-cream smeared children playfully run.
Dogs chasing frisbees bark at the fun
as strolling events are just about done.

Rooks search for scraps on the Downs chalky chest.
Footballs pace quicker as if on a quest. 
Hypnotic gliders hover like rest,
drifting away, along with my stress.

Serenity cycles. Smiles are on tour.
The wonder of nature is what we’re there for.
The café embraces a coach trip or more.
Benches remember all those gone before.

I view all the tissue-like clouds move along
whilst hearing the skylark sing beautiful song.
The smell of contentment is fragrant and strong.
Our Dunstable Downs is where I belong.

Cream of Crop Showers

“Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.”
—Langston Hughes

Cream of Crop Showers

The world seems smaller, inside within quarters, no sun.
But the yellow wonder is like lightning outside, not done.

Inside there is the brightness of the youngest grand.
Consuming all the rays of sunshine, each grain of sand.

The community park would burn within minutes our skin,
so the schoolager finds friends, swings his arms to win.

The VR helps a bit on closeted days that aren’t cooled by rain.
Those greedy clouds won’t spill their shimmering champagne.

With “cream of crop” showers, I imagine us stomping, making pies
with mud, running through the streets, splashing, loving the rise.

Dare the lightning to strike, we’d grab our swords and fight.
We’d reduce its commotion locomotion to a wee little light.

All wet, with flip flops flying like frisbees into puddles deep.
We’d be like fish, who don’t care if they’re slippery, and leap.

The skies today hold promise, covering over the brightness.
Will the heavens lie to us today or do they hold forthrightness.

When Summer is Gone

I intend to enjoy summer
and the sun, warming my ancient skin.
Once, I said goodbye to summer
because one season must yield to the next,
and it was time to attend school and learn.
I said goodbye to seemingly endless beach days,
crashing waves, sand crabs, frisbees, hot dogs, and portable radios singing
about suntanned California girls;
lazy mornings, bike rides to the ballpark,
and balls, flying off my bat and over walls.
I said goodbye,
as I said goodbye
to the excitement of youthful romance,
to my son's childhood,
and as I will say goodbye,
one day, to you,
dear friend.
I intend to enjoy summer.

When Summer is Gone

At the beach.
Wasps and frisbees zigzag.
Around us, but sometimes we get hit.
Winter.
We will barely be able to leave our homes.
There’s only hot chocolate to keep us warm and happy.
But even this treat becomes gray and the swirls fade.
We are still expected to go to our offices.
Which are as buried as us.
The lines of the parking lot are covered by snow.
We park anyway.
Winter sun hits the frosty glass of the front door.
Every winter, I want to run…
…through sand that burns our feet.
Past wasps and frisbees…
But instead, I open the door.

Pointless Fear

It seems to be in my domain
To be scared on everything
Like pain
Frisbees 
People with frizzy hair
That seem not to care
Made up words
Like zurd
jurd
And vurd
Or common names
Like sophia
Sophie
Sean
Or unique names like
Gurlda
Or hilered
Or weter
Or people that are super slender
Or people of the opposite gender
Or the centers that say we need chicken tenders
And fractures
Or really big words
Like Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis
Or Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia
Or Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
And hidden chickens in the kitchen 
And people who write poetry 
Oh wait
Thats me

Wharfing the Dawn

Salt water taffy orchestrated,
pouring grain and sweating.
Spinning my silhouette,
as the dog failed his frisbees.

It doesn' let the sun’s rays wash over me,
replicate large wooden planks,
for heart boardwalking day by day.

Sandbars can sometimes be paramour,
idyllic feeding high memories.
So blue as seashells with a spiral pattern.
Averse to an occasional dalliance,
enthralling you, God.

Breezes and Sneezes

Freedom flings out the summer breezes
In a park where allergens make sneezes.

Men gather to toss their plastic frisbees,
Taking off from work for sick day freebies.

written February 17, 2022
(Enjoying my lunch in a
Florida State roadside park)

Adieu

I want no one to love me for I have only to suffer... 

Their hearts aren't worth the brushed plackets. 

They seem dramatic...
Behind me, Take their pain in my wrist... 

Evoking peace and a sunlit moon...
I deliver their hearts off to sacrifice...
A platter of fresh lovers to love them. 

This disastrous rampaging taunt the night...
One like no other...
Masses decadent to my mansion... 

Fire scrambles my armchair...
Goes within, goes out...
The wind explodes in Frisbees... 

I let aloof my wings...
A night like no otherwise...
The nightmare just commenced...

Confused and Colorblinded

I come up from down the mountain
Where the sky is always green
And the trees are a showy pink
Up toward the valley down there.
Often I seldom wonder how
Cat fishes can fly so high
While the birds swim gayly past 
Going up river while I raft down.

I come up from the mountain
In the flatlands of Appalachia
Where cattle swim in birdbaths
We toss cowpies like frisbees.
The grass is purple in the field
The roots of the oaks grow high
So we pick our acorns off the ground
And spend our summer swatting flies. 

written July 11, 2021
for "Word Play Poems" Poetry Contest
sponsored by John Anderson

July 4th

If you’re an American, 4th of July 
Conjures fireworks, hot dogs and beer.
The barbecue sizzles and friends gather ‘round
To acknowledge that summer is here.

We rarely remember the battles once fought 
To gain independence at last.
The focus is partying on a day off
And not on lives lost in the past.

So let’s light up the grill and toss frisbees and drink 
While American flags we do wave,
But we shouldn’t forget all those patriots who
Made a home for the free and the brave.

Seize the Summer, Kids

Sing “School’s out. School’s out!” Time to wade in creeks.
Bring Kool-Aid and hotdogs outside for a picnic.
Swing high in the tire Dad tied to the big oak tree.
Fling Frisbees, bounce balls, play tag; be quick!

Time will fly right into fall, so cherish summer fun.
Sublime are the hours you play each day, but save some     
Prime time for reading and learning. They enhance summer as
Rhyme may spice up poems. Branch out, kids! Summer won’t be glum.


June 11, 2021
Contest: Lento, 8 lines
Sponsor: Joseph May

Little Pleasures

Pleasure is Cherry Blossoms blooming as elegant fragrance drift through the air.
Anticipating the first cup of hot chocolate on a cold spring morning
Sitting on a Park Bench and watching the exuberance of dogs chasing frisbees.
Of a Summer gentle wind caressing your face and through your hair.
A blue moon lit night dancing in rhythm from the ripples of the ocean.
Pleasure is watching a baby laugh with delight as your face is smeared with cheese.
Pleasure is watching your child for the first time when they are smothered in mud with smiles.
It is curling up on the couch in your spouse’s arms with a lovely wine, low lights and a romantic movie.
To belly laugh until it hurts at a joke from your friend or a loved one was told.
Pleasure is to share golden moments in time, remembering the beautiful life you have together.
It is walking down memory lane with your parents as their life’s story unfolds.
It is smelling the drifting fragrance of a steak sizzling on the barbeque.
It is the complete euphoric feeling when your brother Jesus makes you whole again.

The Green of Our Lives

Bright sunshine dappled
at the gay affair,
in a park so green.
There was revelry,
laughter, food and dance,
and at times romance.
The blooms blazed colors,
lit up by the sun.
The happy children
chased the hued balloons.
Ice cream, cookout, fun-
and sun, sun, sun, sun!
The dogs chased frisbees,
and the babies crawled
in grass very green.
Gliding on sunshine,
redbirds sang amour,
and the festival
went on into night!
Then fireworks lit skies,
like the sunshine as 
it is departing,
to close one more day!

Written on 4/8/2021
For: Anacreontic Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One

Ocean of Romance

Once upon a midnight, night
With stars twinkling in the sky
The moon appeared up above
And all saw this kiss of love

The oceans waves moved the sands
hitting the rocks while clasping hands
Starfish wished to see this kiss
While the fish were swimming in bliss

Lighthouses spinning around
A guiding light of this love abound
With castles built and frisbees thrown
This ocean of love a clear moonstone

When one wished upon a star
The sky and oceans obliged them
Ever lasting never to be forgotten
The oceans and sky's
 
Romance and love

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