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
A little child once hopped round a hoop.
The child tried it once and it felt like the best thing.
The child went back everyday hopping around the hoop with smiles and no care in the world.
Everything that happened before that hoop didn't matter.
The hoop was the only thing that didn't change in the child's world.
The child went again and came back a young adult.
This time, walked around the hoop muttering words to pass the time,
Reminiscing on how long she had been around the hoop.
What exactly about the hoop made her happy?
At least the little child was happy.
The little child came back a young adult that got tired of walking around the hoop.
The young adult who hoped to be able to free themselves from the hoop, stood blank, and spaced out.
Right at the centre of the hoop, she stood, thinking of what exactly drew the little child to this same routine.
A young adult who sought happiness like the little child stood right there thinking of how to leave the hoop happy and not come back.
Three Point Shot
You reach the line, an almost perfect semicircle,
Racing from one side of the court to the other, avoiding the hoop
In a soft wide arc,
Your shoes biting into the floor,
As you come to a halt,
Announcing it to the world with a short, piercing squeak
Tearing through the atmosphere, to the stands
With the ball nestled in your hands, just yearning to take flight,
You rise, knowing that your defenders can’t reach you
Everything but the ball and hoop a distant memory
Your hands travel through the same motions you know so well,
Knowing, even before the ball leaves your grasp, you’ve already won,
This time
You finally release the ball, with a quick, decisive snap of the wrist
Sending it arcing through the air with pinpoint accuracy,
Racing towards the net
Swish
Crisp and clean as a clear spring morning
The ball drops through the net, as the net snaps upwards
You breathe a sigh of relief and relax,
As play continues on
In the year eighteen hundred and ninety-nine,
a Norwegian was patented for his design.
His name was John Vaaler, and we've great reliance
on his smart invention, a household appliance.
This smart little gizmo is made up of wire,
but power, electricity, doesn't require.
From springy material, an “otherwise shaped hoop,”
John's patent got the American scoop.
It holds things together; it's mostly for pages.
Its uses are endless: a tool for the ages.
In the days when a disk or a CD got stuck,
if you straightened out one, you might have some luck.
The oval-shaped double loop's truly a Gem;
I bet 'round your house you have hundreds of them.
This poem's near ended; I'd best let it slip.
It ought to be obvious: the paper clip.
Hula Hoop and Chicken Coop
had a hula hoop
we were thrown for a big loop
cruddy chicken coup
There was a gal known for the Hula hoop
Until one day, she fell in some dog poop
So she went on a dog strike
Dog rep said, “go take a hike.”
She said, “Have you all heard of a poop scoop?”
*I was inspired by Jan. I've seen several of her poems with this theme. And I decided to give it a go. Enjoy:-)
Alexis Y.
02/19/2021
red ants parade forth
dew dances on trembling twigs~
rainbows hula hoop
August 17, 2020
Haiku - Nature Themed 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
~Winner: 2nd Place
Burst of brandished flaming arrow,
Thump of bunnies against my chest,
Cupid’s straight pointer did narrow,
Continue my family crest.
Squawking souls of birds in my nest,
Potent from moonstruck bolero,
Crescendo of lust’s citrus zest —
Cock-a-hoop’s sunstruck sombrero.
1/18/2020
Charles Messina’s Oh-No A Twisted Char-Lay Poetry Contest
ABAB BABA 8 syllables
*Cock-a-hoop normally an adjective, using as a noun here
triumphantly pleased or boastful : happily exulting
Honor truth
Settles the heart
Displaced young
They do start
Basket ballers hoops
Drops the love parts
aMERICA cuts the net
Ballers shoots the ball
Broken leg blurry eyes
Once again shoots a shoot
Drops the ball in game and love
Loses the game moves on
10/9/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
The Hula Hoop
Capitalizing on any given situation borderS,
On acquisitiveness or generositY,
Where both parties wanT
More bang for theiR
Buck, therebY
CertifyinG
CloseR
AnD
H
A
L
C
Y
O
N
TieS
WherebY
EstablishinG
A permanent unioN
pilot fish eats large
sharks parasites clean so the
sharks do not eat them
***The above CONCRETE form is the statement described by its shape
The below HAIKU form describes the statement via a natural event
Being well-rounded I decided to call this the HULA HOOP
2019 August 19
*5th Place*
Invitation to Play
~~Sheri Fresonke Harper
Trump Had A Hulahoop
About Trump have heard the latest scope;
Had one heck of a time with a hula hoop;
Hard of hearing;
Twilight is nearing;
Long ties he languished did dip into soup.
Jim Horn
A circumference
A point
A circle
A hula hoop
A girl
A poetry.
When I write a blog on the Soup
They are rarely read by it's troop
Likes the ones posted today
So many have said there say
If they were mine I'd be so cock a hoop
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/humour-4.php
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