The half-time show was well-rehearsed
And those who watched it all concurred,
Though I’m not sure if Kendrick cursed;
I didn’t understand a word.
There was a message; what it was
Perhaps the younger crowd did get,
But in between the hype and buzz,
One note made me a bit upset.
I know for years it wasn’t right
When chorus lines did not include
Performers who did not look white,
Despite the talent they’d exude.
Yet now the pendulum has swung,
But way too much; it hasn’t found,
Among those who have danced and sung,
An integrated middle ground.
The times are changing, as they tend
To do, yet progress will reverse
If entertainment won’t extend
To casts and crews who are diverse.
In the liveliest REM stage of his night
Bert beholds an unusual sight.
A troupe of pink elephants sound a trumpet blast
Then stomp united towards the grass.
On the other side, a team of tall strong guys
March to the pitch with focussed eyes.
"I'll be the goalie!' Dan told Bert.
'I'm least likely to get hurt."
Bert referees. His reminder the same,
"The joy's in the play, not winning the game."
At half time, a call is heard from Phil.
"How have the elephants scored two nil?
It's not right. It makes no sense...
Football's not for elephants!"
The guys huddle up and devise a plan
To catch as many mice as they can.
When the teams take position on the green
A commotion begins. A chaotic scene!
The elephants pale to white as a goose
When all the mice have been let loose.
The guys score goals before the mice disappear
The elephants play on, when free from fear.
Bert awakens amazed and confused.
He starts to laugh, feeling quite amused.
He answers the question written on Suzanne's face.
He fills her in on the match that took place.
pass the dark
half time
the rest of me
into the spiral of spin
the schelpture of electric light
cascades over wretch
the grateful dead
kiss you into life
old trees remember
confusion stirs the leaves
an idle rake waits
Once when I was a child
My reins were held by my parents
This pony once led by their rants
Now that my mustang is old
My reins still slip from my grasp
I go where this beast goes
Divorced from my old mare
I am no longer noosed
Years of service make it wary
When my child returns at half-time
He takes my reins playfully
Taming my mustang without a whine
When he dismounts for her
I lose sight of my destination
Someday, I'll bridle without a bother
Then I won’t be ridden by my beast
The saddle will find its place
Someday my racing heart will cease
Together we’ll limp to the finish line
Our eyes on the journey before us
Not fixing my gaze side to side
This bronco will find its stride
Confident in my equestrian skills
I’ll cross the line in an easy ride
Then no longer reign or be reined
Ready for the glue factory in style
As Jesus cries he is finished
Magis
Sent from East
With presents on hand
Wishing, walking with glued hand
By land traveled from Orient far
Praying, bowing before the mightiest Star
Never before in a lifetime
the World changed half-time
Like magic under spell
World rejoiced where true believers dwell
losing my mind fast
this is the half-time of life
reflecting on goals
i have survived life
just living daily routine
hoping for some joy
Bite size poem no 25 poetry contest
Half Time March
David J Walker
And there I was
Half floating on top of
Army barracks I am familiar with
Half running the gauntlet of a
Hungry basic training camp
Half blowing Taps at night but
The Flag won’t come down
Half standing in line for a
Two-year-old movie I didn’t
Like the first time
Half-naked and out of uniform
From the waist up
Half-assed shine on my
Combat boots
Halfway to the front
When I heard the shooting stop
Halfway home when they
Called me back
Half asleep when I
Awake at my civilian home
Half happy/Half sad
At the time past
Super Bowel Half Time Rap Crap
Whole super bowel half time rap,
Was really a total bunch of crap;
Will not care;
A sad affair;
Resulting in humongous mishap.
Jim Horn
Two old codgers in rocking chairs
Half time talking, half time stares
Reminiscing about their life
Integration of peace and strife
Will I now be condescending
Maybe to the point of offending
No, that's not the way it will be
Because one old codger is me!
She likes half and half
I like full-cream.
I take my coffee black
her's is half milk and cream.
She's a ***** and a half at times
Living the half-life
in half-light, betwixt and between.
With flag at half-mast
always regreting something
never going the whole hog,
never taking it all in.
Half a life lived in halves
is never enough.
It's half-time shortly,
I think I will take
the chance to slip away.
Taped-together mystery
Closeted cacophony
Doling out your sunshine
Like it’s half time
And you’re half mine
Your countenance, it haunts my dreams
Why does kindness feel so strange?
Flip me inside out
Clear my eyes
Turn my world upside down
And pierce my amnesia
Tear the veil from my mind
Shake me out from all the lies
Melt the fear when it resists
So my will succeeds from this
Rescue me
From my own worst enemy
Two Nil.
I sit and watch the children
playing football in the street.
Look at me, shouts the referee
who runs with two left feet.
I'll get the ball shouts Lee Mac Call
I'll put it in the net.
Two Nil, shouts Bill, as it begins to rain
and everyone gets wet.
The whistle blows at half time
two goals as the ref shouts break for all.
Then in second half pass the ball to Garth
and let him try score a goal.
As expected, Mars failed to arrive on time for the games
Space travel is difficult, compromised for non existent beings
Speculations run high that the media would not favor the USA
News reporters speak on Martian matters and on their behalf
Always have their way in such arenas with no figures
It was zero zero at half time
No one expected more
The end triggered overtime
Zero zero continued into eternity
As expected, the fans love good competition
Everyone knows in their heart
Earth is better than Mars
We have people for starters
We wonder what will happen in time
The Winter Olympics are right around the corner
Who knows how far Mars will go to score
Will they do any better on the toboggan or the luge
The news reporters favor the USA as usual
Or is it Mars
We see a bunch of zeroes in their future
No matter who they are
the room was dark and empty
other than a floor lamp.
other than a window leaking dusk,
there was no light.
the walls were slate
like hopsital waiting rooms.
i stood there,
anticipating
something.
then, i saw him.
looking just as i remembered him last.
healthy, loving, alive.
i ran up to him,
"i can't believe it's you"
with my arms reaching out,
"i can't believe it's you"
he tried telling me
something.
all i can remember is how he told me
to tell my mother
something important,
something forgotten.
it was as if the world picked up speed
and all his words were in half time.
everything was moving so fast
i couldn't make his visit last.
how i wish i could remember
what he said deep in my slumber,
maybe he could have lived through me.
it all ended so soon,
i was barely able to catch my breath
before old papa went home to death.
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