Georgetown Highschool Fire Drill Today
On top--Georgetown's outdoor blackboards
Setup classmate's first-time meetup sort out
Schoolboys head out--henceforth buddy up one-on-one
Outside schoolyards baseball's first base
Schoolgirls show up--nearby football goalpost
Trump Derangement Syndrome
and Hoya Paranoia*
Both reside in Washington D.C.
both designed to annoy ya
_______________________________
*The Georgetown University basketball
team's nickname is 'the Hoyas.' The
team is known for its 'annoying,' but
effective, full-court pressure defense.
Other teams became paranoid about
dribbling the ball against them. Hence,
'Hoya Paranoia.'
Streaking, dashing, breaking away
Up, up the tempo, the McClendon way
Getting wide and filling the lanes
Assisting the open man with two points to gain
Upbeat, back and forth, fast, and then faster
Sitting and watching, a spectator's delight, as they witness a creation by the 'Flow Master'
Yes! Breaking away the McClendon way
Away from stereotypes and public naiveté
Dark skin was a 'NO' for many, like the likes of Duke, Georgetown, Temple, and St. Johns
But Morehouse, Fisk, Howard, and other HBCUs were an emphatic 'YES' for 'McClendons.'
The likes of Bob Love, Cleo Hill, Oscar Butler, The Pearl, Sam Jones, John Chaney, Harold Hunter and so many more
O' McClendon's Break, history indeed; now 'Black Magic' at HBCUs is the heretofore
McClendon's Break extended far beyond 94 feet
His astounding 4 W's made playing that much more sweet
The Who, What, Why, and Where
McClendon's Break, oh so rare
A large thud shakes the house
Waking up a farmer and his wife in Georgetown, Texas.
Did you hear that? She nods.
What do you think it was?
I think the oak tree came down.
They go back to sleep.
The next day they find an immovable piece of stainless steel in the yard.
Too heavy to budge with a tractor.
“I think it’s a piece of a rocket,” she says.
He thinks this is hilarious.
Tells his friends at McDonald’s.
They laugh about it for years.
The tale is told over and over.
The guffaws are large.
Until 1997 when an engineer inspects the steel.
It is a tank from an old rocket, he tells the farmer.
I imagine it weighs six hundred pounds.
“Shh!” the farmer says, “Don’t tell the wife.”
Glorious Malaysia with her strawberry farms and butterfly gardens
She is a study in diversity, a beautiful adventure waiting for you.
Her beautiful secluded beaches surrounded by jungles entice us to visit.
She has several cultural influences – Malay, Chinese and Indian.
Gorgeous Malaysia parading her Perdana Botanical Garden.
Museums, seaside fort, historical homes and murals of Georgetown.
Mount Kinabalu, Merara Kuala Lumpur, and the Perhentian Islands.
She invites you to snorkel, dive, bird watch, raft and fish in her depths.
At her Batu Caves you will discover the Hindu Shrine of the God of War.
Her answer to the USA’s Las Vegas is found in the Genting Highlands.
Come see Sipadan Island and her Gunung Mulu National Park.
Malaysia, the adventure of your lifetime!
Having my own Georgetown street; while walking within it's sunrise's
Shade somewhat quiet today this Memorial weekend: a slight cool breeze
Wisking us away as passing Victorian's once upon a time's houses and etched
Deeply amid his concrete the year nineteen sixty-eight: her time of change Attica where
There seems no escape sipping upon another glass this dust wispering whirlwinds ?
Ushering in life's truth it's image these bars vertical; walls their shadows she screams: crude
Hewn caves love's sepulchres; cultured stones chimes the childrens mirrors marble, roses; sleep....
Take rest from such taunting breath these drops as red his sliver sheds: peering eyes her blades reprise.
That a little tid bit in truth about, myself
This lease piece, you see ? As out of the blue
His other half tains flesh, ofttimes makes me laugh
With these crazy thoughts; entertaining another dull day
Amid his valley of death her Babylon; isn't she, pretty in pink...
Anyway, psycho's latest episode took us to Georgetown and Regan
Bypassing tinsel town's theatrics tilt, a closer look ? Taboo, it's thought ?
Conventional, we are not: love, for every life although shall never part; 'Creation
Yet baby's other side this dynamic in reason brought about images his, transcending....
Daemon clutching their crucifix shouting about the throws be, verb lunacy: lubricate me, lubricate, meeee
Jovial's boy had me rolling once again; such, hilarious visions from beyound her realms ? Ludicrous, bruntly bowed.
Guarded Heart
I now guard my heart..
With walls of stone..
Built slowly..one at a time.
I watched my life crumble..
Before my very eyes..
I gave you my love..
You tossed it aside.
You crushed our love..
As if it ..were never to exist.
Why did you do this?
Fate's terrible twist.
The place in my heart you once held..
I try so hard to find..
Feels so dark and cold..
Once so safe and warm..
I wonder..
What will be left behind?
God's plan for us..
So hard to see..
For yesterday is gone..
Tomorrow ..yet to be.
Please.. walk with me Jesus..
Shine your light brightly..
For without it..I cannot see.
Surround me with your love..
For without it ..I cease to be.
Inside my heart..
Your love held one precious part..
My Jesus holds the other..
The peaceful difference is..
God's love will never part..
His love..
Forever guards my heart.
Written By: Gwen Jones
Georgetown,Louisiana
Captured Time
If I should ask myself..
Could I travel backward in time?
Can 18 wheelers ..
Ever stop on a dime?
To that one place..
That changed my life forever..
That tiny space in time..
My memory can always find.
To that one place..
Where I can clearly see their face..
Hear the softness in their voice..
Feel the warmth of their smile.
No..not ever..
Will I travel backward in time..
18 wheelers.. won't ever stop on a dime.
Yet ..the answers I sometimes seek..
I will never find..
For they are forever captured..
In..that one place in time.
Written By: Gwen Jones
Georgetown, Louisiana
"When I Get To Heaven"
I did not know this man...I called my Grandpa.
We were strangers in this life.
He was often in my heart...
In the thoughts that wondered in my mind.
I did not know this man...I called my Grandpa.
My memories of him are few.
They are branded in my mind...
Like childhood memories...often do.
I did not know this man... I called my Grandpa.
His face is picture perfect..
His voice crystal clear.
I did not know this man...I called my Grandpa.
Our time was not for here...
God tells us we will meet in Heaven...
As it is meant to be...
There..
I will know my Grandpa...and...my Grandpa will know
me.
Written By: Gwen Jones
Friday, February 26, 2010
Georgetown, Louisiana
"ME"
Up and down...round and round.
Deep within my mind.
I search for the words....
I ...just cannot find.
My memories mix..
Like posters... on a billboard sign.
The colors soon fade...all to black and white.
By the evil hands of time.
How again?...
Must I find...
Love..?
To seal my
heart....
Only mine.
Fit just like a glove.
No time I have to waste.
For the evil hands of time...
Move at...a very awesome pace.
I look inside the mirror...
It's looking straight back at me.
What is missing?
How I begin to easily see...
What I thought was my life...
Me!
Written By: Gwen Jones
Friday, February 26, 2010
Georgetown, Louisiana
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.