Long Balling Poems
Long Balling Poems. Below are the most popular long Balling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Balling poems by poem length and keyword.
Drawing out
from the spirit of Steve
Crowing each morning
singing to the light
Six million
dollar rooster
In bionic terms
I would lift him
up all proud
Aged about nine
at the time
He was the champion
Lifting stones
Feeding him worms
Followed us like a dog
He was the top rooster
in the yard
given to me
as a pet
I looked after him
like royalty
One sad day
Home from school
He went missing
Calling for him
in the garden
Nowhere to be seen
Mother shouts
Dinner will be
ready in five
I asked
if she saw Steve
No was the reply
A few minutes later
Called in
Sitting down
at the table
To a leg of chicken
Accompanied with chips
Finished eating
My father began
Roaring laughing
When I asked
about the rooster
He laughed
you just ate
one of his legs
I burst out crying
Trying to get sick
What a monster
Balling out
roaring crying
My mother tried
to put her arms
around me
I pushed
her away
Horrified at what she done
Sure she cooked him
I could not believe it
Thinking she
was always
Very kind to me
I was so sick
could not believe
Just ate
my favorite pet
Went to the bed
Cried myself
to sleep
No more Steve
Food of thought
Watching out the window
Before sleep
As the dogs ate
The last of him
I still
remember fondly
With chips
I see the light
In your darkness
Only now
I crow
In the light
~ ~ ~ ~
Happy (dead) Mother's Day.
Here's a fistful of wildflowers for your final resting place.
Your demise was far swifter than your time.
I wasn't old enough to get to know you.
Just a few matted memories and some 8mm film clips
Your smile was sweet and wide.
You gave me a naked cowboy piggyback ride.
We had a cat named Blue and a short, wide bulldog.
I'm guessing by the small room smiles
these were the best of our times.
Dad got rid of Blue because she couldn't break the habit of crapping in the bathtub.
One day a kid split my lip with a tin can.
I went balling into mother.
Another time I opened the farmer's gate so the cows could escape,
For punishment, he gave me a dead corn snake necklace.
Black crows surrounded mother's final bloody bed.
A little silver music box reminded me of her
It gave me some sad sort of comfort.
Time graciously swept most of the rot from inside this head.
I surmise yours truly i.e. me
a slacker boomer - ye,
whereby repose finds me
face buried in pillow free
and clear of Earthly worry
mainly, namely, particularly...
lack of legal tender re: money
woeful bane, yes unarguably
legitimate casus belli key
ping mental state agonizingly
able, eager, and ready to re
sign livingsocial or alone thee,
major source of acrimony
sea ying boatloads sunk
gone (courtesy maintenance
costs 2009 Hyundai Sonata), one she
tee chitty chitty bang bang bee
cause original parts conking out - see
maddeningly, practically, simultaneously
within weeks and months invariably
major component, a doggone conspiracy,
methinks maybe climate change, or possibly
Jewish ancestor condemned during
to death (think, yea even say) auto de fe,
where subsequent generations automatically
branded convicted heretics sentenced
and executed, plus any accouterments wheely
rendering twenty first century western
civilization and concomitant car rears je
ne sais quoi necessary not simply cree
chore comfortant, which upkeeping de
creed red hot poker faced anger - be
getting sudden impulse where
tightly balling fists punch thighs
vocalizing with primal screaming - ye
probably heard - hmm maybe
being stone cold dead to the world
not such a worse fate after all - si?
Looked in the left and I saw no one right;
So I choose the sun;
Looked to the right and no one was left;
I saw no one;
All because they didn't care;
All because they didn't care;
I thought he was my friend;
Yes he is, yes he was, I guess he's not
I just forgot
I thought that he cared;
I guess he should, I guess he would I guess I'm not
All because they didn't care;
And when I witness to the strangers;
I tell them I love them
and when they get on Face book I de-friend them
what's the matter???
I thought they were my friends;
Yes I did, they sure is, I'm wondering
I knew they are my friends because they stop calling;
use to go basket-balling?
But not now they've shown me that they care;
just as tho, I wasn't there???
all because, because they didn't care;
So I looked to the left, and I saw no one right
So I chose the Son
Immanuel Jesus Christ;
He loves me, for who I am
won't judge me cause I am his lamb;
and when my feelings have died;
I shall to rise, to be forever with HIM by HIS side
all because they didn't care
I will forever be HIS bride;
all because they just don't care
As I looked left I saw Jesus
As I looked right there was Jesus
I am so glad that I choose the SON;
just because HE really cares;
written by James Edward Lee & **The Corinthian
June 26 2017
**music only
Rain swept mud into his cheeks,
As black rays fell from the sky,
And his mottled hair, with broken black streaks,
Washed his tiresome eye,
Yet he peered straight ahead, with a dead shot line,
Not thinking of what he could feel,
Not thinking about the life that he lead,
Not thinking about if it was real,
Then he pulled the trigger, fired the round,
And watched the slug float away,
Watched the slug go on its way,
For a demolishing, exploding ballet,
“Yes”, he kissed his hand, he kissed his soul,
He kissed his love for the fear,
He kissed his emotional feeling on high,
And reloaded his paint balling gear.
What an intelligent queen bee it is !, Your lifecycle makes everyone to be griping, Giving birth to young ones is your bliss, All are attracted by your voice ,piping, The reigning queen is killed by worker bees, By the common method of balling her, Worker bees select fertilized egg with ease, And it is placed in a queen's cell per, Labour bees pick the healthiest larva, And it is being fed with royal jelly, That is a secretion of bee's narva, The first larva becomes a queen actually, You symbolise feminine power ,truly, And your bio-rhythm is echoed thoroughly.
The pounding palpatation, the moistening of palms
Swallowing, an obstacle, wave goodbye to calm
Breathing now is labored, balling of the fist
Paranoid my eyes have bled, consumed in a red mist
It's lucky that my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth
At least I'm keeping some control of things I shouldn't shout
Things I shouldn't scream and rage and spasm til I ache
Hands behind my back so I dont punch you in the face
It's not that I'm not used to it, it happens every night
It's the root of every problem, subject of every fight
The time has come to ask myself, how longer can I hack it.
Or the answer to a good night's sleep?
Sleep with separate blankets.
Falling
I touched down
And they frowned at me
I keep balling
They keep talking
I keep working
They keep watching
What next I might become
I love to see them alive
Expecially those with hate
Cos am now the actor
They never wish to watch
They bleed I bless
They curse I grow
Am not in the league of a curse
Generation
I came out blessed
So if they continue to live
As long they hate
The more am blessed
I swear Cos they can't
wait to see Me
Falling
Falling
I believe in human resource
So my best investment
Is on human being
This is why I love
And love to bless
I own no grudges
I never love them either
I didn't want to cross no man
So no man should cross I
If life is with this mentality
Then I should have been writing
Another poem
I hate to be perfect
But remember me
Remember that despite who I am
Yet I showed love
I showed care
I pure and shared my heart with you
Remember me and be happy
Cos out there am not the same
Only God See's the deepest heart
Of a man
And time remains the prove of truth
So remember my Poems for humanity
Even when the world is
Falling
A dog that is feeding on milk
Won't go all days been fed by an ilk
When situation makes him bilk
Then the dog won't be as fine as a silk
A ball at the back of the net is a goal
Two balling on bed must have become a soul
With the one that is in control
Pleasurably drilling the hole
Two goals are called a brace
Jubilation is always of deep embrace
How hard opponents feel so disgrace
Trying to come back in form through grace
Three goals are called an hatrick
After two is no longer a baby mama by trick
Enjoying the memorable awesome kick
Which never get you sick
Unexpectedly in love;
Hugs plant Olive.
Unexpectedly with peers;
Olive's shade gears cheers.
Unexpectedly in joy;
I, a playboy.
Unexpectedly with ladies;
Scope drives Mercedes.
But men are running late for altar's oath
Wandering soul mate can't afford a troubling both
But has forgotten the lurking loath
Running behind them, are many a troth
Diving for the ball,
Balling into a dust-
Orange roll,
The catcher tossed it back to the pitcher
After a ball three, and walked up to him.
The descent of the night's sky
Made the ballfield lights a sudden relevance.
The catcher's cleats hit the ascending tip
of the diamond. He threw back his mask:
"You got this."
"I know I got this."
"Just throw how you normally throw."
"I know. I will. I know."
"You know what to do. Let's do this."
"I got this. I got this."
Then something was said
From the catcher to the pitcher
Not even the poet's ears were privy to.
Anyway,
Catcher ran back
Behind the diamond
And squatted, throwing out
His target glove with a deft pause
So not to tip the batter off.
The next pitch was a swinging strike
High up in the zone.
The pitch after that was a home run
Caught by a nun
Out on Yawkey Way.
Oh well, there's always the next day.
By the way,
She blessed the ball
And gave it away.