Lineup Poems | Examples

Pain is Strange

pain is strange
its range
you can walk

it inhibits
how fast
more than that

it hurts
now I get it
no one knows

but the soul
who lumbers
along

I look and see
all the other bumblebees
and my buzz

resounds
in my own
head

it’s not
that no one
cares

it’s more
that so many
are limping

you only notice
when
you have

the same
ailment
oh boy, age

is deranged
arrange yourself
in the lineup

point
  point
   point

what’s the point
“OUCH!”

The Beatles

The band John Lennon
formed, called The Quarrymen
played half skiffle and
half rock and roll.
 
Four years later in
nineteen sixty, the band
evolved into The Beatles
with five men lineup.

John, Paul, George, Stuart,             
who died and Peter,
replaced by Ringo were
nicknamed The Fab Four. 

Their arrival here sixty
years ago, this month
triggered cultural and musical
movement, the British Invasion.

The Horse Race

The Horse Race  by Jeff Reed
A sunny day 
In the month of May
We traveled to the Horse Race.
We ate some lunch
 I had a hunch 
That Stewball would lead the pace.
Ten horses competed
The form was completed
And Stewball was ranked number ten.
Post time was announced
The lineup pronounced
And I whispered a quiet “Amen” 

One came undone
Two threw a shoe
Three had to pee
Four said “no more” 
Five came alive
Six played some tricks
Seven thought of Heaven
Eight started late
Nine tried to shine
And
Ten lost again.

The race was run
The sweepstakes done
We made our bets, but no one won.
Stewball was a slow
He never would go
Despite the odds, I still had fun

Stewball let me down that day
What else can I say?
He may have had the flu
	Stewball had the name
	But never made the Hall of Fame

But he did make an excellent glue.

Sex Advice

True matchup in the tennis stands. Meant to be humorous.

SEX ADVICE

Making whoopie at the tennis match.
Dr. Ruth and Bill Clinton, tète a tète.
She tenderly touches his face.
He blushes, in the very public stands.
Is she offering        advice?
I wonder who is on the other side.
Is there a lineup of folks
to set his face aflame.
Was this an intercession?
Is Hillary close by
or very far away?
Otherwise
Ruth and Billy side by side
go out for an auto ride
Bill hits a bump
Ruth hits a tree
and Bill keeps sexting ruthlessly*

8/30/2022

*Original epitaph:

Ruth and Johnny, Side by side, went out for an auto ride. They hit a bump. Ruth hit a tree, and John kept going – Ruthlessly.

Answering the Still Small Voice

Two days before
I found out
I would have a second grandchild,
the still small voice
asked me,
“Could you love another grandchild
the way you love her?”
You see I loved my granddaughter 
with ALL my heart.

The second born would eye me,
as I’d leave, hand in hand with her sister,
each day, out the door.
Did I love her less?

Her big tear grew in mass,
puddled at the corner of her eye.
Was it there every day?
Was this just
the first time I really saw her?

I carried this tear away from her home.

Her sister would complain.
Of course she would -
suddenly there was two
playmates for grandma.

Four grandsons would join the lineup.

Would grandma choose
a favorite?

I answer the still small voice,
“I love them all, you know…”

8/25/2021

He Told Me To Smile

You say, "Why don't you smile?"
Don't you know it is vile?
Ugh! you are forty-five
Your words should fortify         
My work like a rabbi.

On our first official
zoom, you cry at facial
gloom. Psst! Now sadness looms.
I know, never a womb
Has seen this vested room.

Your grand client lineup
Makes your word a decree
So see, when you treat me 
Like Clinton in lineup   
You see wavering eyes 
Signalling for time up

Can you not feel the tension in the air
The strained smiles and the creaking of the chair.
I'm new, this is my debut in this venue 
My face confesses the confusion in lieu
Of confronting my tenure in your crew 
You could have eschewed my blue hue 
Or lightened it with a quip or two
But no, now we have to continue     
Like mildew until my adieu

Black Crayons

grandson favors the black crayon
he always picks it first out of the lineup
even his rainbows have thick strips of black
to him black crayons matter.

The Last Day of a Racing Greyhound

It’s three am and I need to pee, feeling thirsty
My water bowl is empty and it’s getting warm in here
My crate is barren, the cement is cold on my legs
I hear my brothers and sisters cry, they are next door
I hear the door open, my masters are yelling, scaring me
My crate is opened, they shove me out, I pee a little
I get hit with a belt and screamed at, I head to the track
I finally drink but my stomach is raw, gurgling with gas
I am given some white substance, then a small treat
I am pulled to the lineup, I hate the sound of the horn
I see the white fluffy bone, or is it a bunny?
I run, run as fast as I can, my brother trips me, I fall behind
My leg and foot are bleeding, I cry out but no one helps
I am then taken to a field, I feel scared, alone, starving
It is quiet, until I hear a loud bang, something hits me
I wake up at peace chasing butterflies and seeing rainbows

The Kiss

eagerly waiting his turn
pacing in the lineup
planned his strategy
his heart thumping
got to the kissing booth
puckered up his best pucker
for her lips so tender
he couldn’t resist
offered to pay double
for his guilty nibble



AP: 2nd place 2020

Submitted on December 22, 2019 for contest KISSING CONTEST sponsored by BOBBY MAY  -  RANKED 5TH

On the Sideline

what
are we all
doing here
on the sideline
damaged
needing repair
in a lineup
getting processed
waiting for a tuneup
our turn thru the puppy mill
longing to rush back
pick up the pace
speed spinning
our hamster wheel



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

posted on October 3, 2019

Mirrors

It occurs touching a summer's eve,
               when stars too timid to shine,
               the moon not made its climb,
A sun had refused to leave,
Though push its way, a heavy moon,
               sun made to leave its solemn hold
               sprinkled stars made calm bold,
Let learn their sparkles much too soon,
Stars secret whisper articulates,
               jumbled wishes that spray from below,
               that fuels the kettled nighttime aglow,
Patient hearts rewards in dates,
All is ready for the gathered hearts,
               stars lineup, a shooter's maze,
               kiss explodes, of hearts ablaze,
Nighttime of memorable moments parts,
                                                                ...reflections


2019 September 17

World War 3 In Virtual Reality

The next World War will be fought
On X-box in virtual reality as battle bought
Where our Generals will line will sit with poise
As the 3D screen will make all the battle noise

And they will buy their army from the game shop
To get the best as their opponent takes a backward hop 
So when they lineup from the carnage
It will be recorded on screen as battles rage

The best heroes will be the ones who last
As the Generals fight in violence not surpassed 
And any victory rolls the aces will make
Will be fanciful across the screen so great.

© Paul Warren Poetry

Why Do We Do This

He was a gangly kid. Ugly on the upside.
Unmemorable, until the day he died.
Suddenly, he was totally everyone’s best friend.
They try to one-up each other with “Timmy” stories.

Why do we do this?  What is wrong with us?
Is it our claim to fame to know a person who is gone?
I saw him Thursday night at Tuck’s Treats. He looked sad.
We chewed watermelon gum together on Friday.

I saw Timmy a few seconds before the grizzlies dragged him off.
I heard him screaming for a long time.
I called the police, but I could not get through.
I heard they dragged him way into the woods. Uh-huh. I saw it happen.

People who would have not recognized Timmy in a lineup of
Two even after nine or ten tries suddenly are at his house, 
Wailing louder than his relatives, telling Timmy stories.
Trying to one-up each other.
What is wrong with people?

Stalker

Lingering in the shadows
Thinking no one can see
To him it is such a thrill
Following and watching me
For weeks no it's been happening
I noticed him late one afternoon
He doesn't think that I know
I don't want him to know too soon
Although it seems a little creepy
And I question myself as to why
He doesn't seem to scare me
All he does is hide and spy
Establishing a pattern each week
It's the authorities I notify
Of his whereabouts I inform them
At a lineup I have to identify
Positive identification I swore
He looked at me with a smile
That part of my life is over
And a stalker now in exile

10/11/2017

Baseball

Days of youth, spending time tossing that white pellet.
Learning how to play was sometimes heartless
as losses were an injury which was difficult to take.
As time went, so did the misunderstandings of the game,
but instead left a deeper love for its nuances.

Where to move on each play, who covered which base, 
cutoffs, and the defensive attitude in mind when on the field.
Looking to see if the coach had enough faith
to put your name in the lineup for that day's game. 

Every pitch became important.  Every batted ball became the
hit you wanted.  Every member of the team became your friend for life.
Don't let them down with an error or strikeout.  Be their hero
with the saving catch or drive in the winning run.  


   Baseball on green fields
   Pastime of all my summers
   All American game.

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