Long Balls Poems
Long Balls Poems. Below are the most popular long Balls by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Balls poems by poem length and keyword.
These words were written for a handicap brother who lived in a group home, basking in the sun, swinging in his hammock as he coped with his limits until he passed away.
Silence
Untangled, unseen matter
Quiet, still and numb
Frozen, mute with pain
Is silence around me.
Not a flitter, not a chirp
Nor twitching of limbs
Motionless trees over-shadow me
As my hammock swings.
Clouds gently steel across the sky
Leaving velvety blue protruding,
Through soft woolly cotton balls
I gaze the Heavens dreaming
Slumbering lazily, in my hammock
Entertained by a million thoughts
Sad, lonely, fearful struggles
Bouncing through my aching heart.
Come softly, soothe these nagging fears.
Shatter the tumult within
Come dispel the silent flurry
While my hammock swings.
There was plenty daylight
Money was tight
Time to head into the woods
Doing what they should
Travelling with military balls
Gunners had to make the calls
Hunt down the wolves, that was all
They were taunting the law
Before a break
A shot they did take
Successful goal it did make
Everyone took a rest
Wolves wandering around asking “Am I a mess?”
Keeping quiet for another half
Arsenal sent another message down nature’s path
“You have nothing and are through,
Doesn’t come close to our two”
Marching back to civilization
Thoughts the army started raisin
“If we are in the top four
We will have more matches to score”
As the lights appear in sight
Still proud on how they did fight
But there was a small plight
Personal economics issues that may not be all right
“In all this success
Do we put the Royals to a test?
They did not mention
Anything about our pension
Should we bring that to the crown’s attention?”
When they finally got home
Under the darkness dome
All alone
Gunners heard the news
About the financial dues
Chelsea shut up the buzz that was stirring
Claiming pensions were theirs, stop the worrying
“We will be the ones to represent
In the extra games EPL asks us to present,”
Saying this until blue in the face
Building a winning case
Arsenal forges on
Very calm
Pulling cannons that targets their championship bombs
When clouds above dance to our song,
when stars are birthed from arbors strong,
we wish the days were extra long;
we sing our song, we sing our song.
Oh mother moon, smile down on us,
we raise voice in respectful trust,
to celebrate the twilight thus;
clouds swirl above, clouds swirl above.
The cotton balls dance a great reel,
swirling, twirling, first toe then heel,
they dance a jig and form a wheel;
it does appeal, it does appeal.
With golden tones, we sing along,
in this wide field, our mighty throngs,
serenading nature with bright song;
one thousand strong, one thousand strong!
Chickpeas drained and
smashed
2 Cups
1 teaspoon of lemon zest
1 teaspoon of lemon juice
1 tablespoon of cilantro
1 teaspoon of garlic powder
3 green onions chopped fine
5 tablespoons of dried parsley
1/2 teaspoon of cayenne pepper
1 Tablespoon of cultured buttermilk powder
1/4 cupof parmesean cheese
5 strips of bacon cooked and chopped fine
3 tablespoons of breadcrumbs
1 egg yolk
mix well
Heat olive oil
make balls
and fry golden brown.
two heads of romain lettuce
chopped in bite sizes
brown garlic and butter breadcubes
6 hardboiled eggs cut into quarters
1 cup of cooked bacon
1/4 cups of shredded paresean cheese
1/4 cup of flaked whiting fish poached in white wine
drained and chopped artichoke hearts
add chickpeas
and serve
top with a Caesar Salad dressing
5 medium tomatoes
Best with braised lamb?beef
fall off the bone tender
Might the night
bring you closer to me
as your lover
than all shall wish us
together
On white face of mirth, a joyance beguile
fooling around, in a paint smeared smile.
A yellow messy wig, dangling over head,
grinning beneath a nose, fake plastic red.
A weird costume, hands of fate designed,
in ludicrous comic role, normal life denied.
Punchline of nasty joke, crowds go all nuts,
but buried deep within, pain of unseen cuts.
Jocose of a jester, his balls of hope juggle,
making two ends meet, it's about struggle.
A mime layer of mask, hides a serious clown,
trapeze rises up, and a sky turns upside down.
Scattered stars descend , to a vastness of abyss,
he returns dancing, his flamboyant delirious bliss.
7th March 2020
Sponsor Kai Michael Neumann
Contest Name Clown at the Abyss
All around campus there are these little black balls, like hanging
alien eggs. Glossy, obsidian bubbles concealing cameras that
record time-stamped, audio and hi-def video.
Could this surveillance footage ever be sent to parents?
*Imagining letters sent to parents about campus/dorm surveillance*
Dear Mr & Mrs Vionet, we have observed countless kisses,
disheveled morning walks and late night visits which indicate
that your daughter is a scandalous little wh0re. We just wanted you
to know, in case you want to know more. As campus security it’s part
of our business to keep a full, digital record, detailing her sluttines$s.
Your friends in campus security.
P.S.
Would you care to donate to the University endowment fund?
. We worked it out on paper and realized if we saved our ten cents a week allowance,
it would take years to pay for them, so we decided we needed to get a job. So began our
first enterprise ‘Hal and Elaine’s snow Removal.’
Each day after school we would go door to door offering to shovel the snow from
sidewalks and driveways for a fee of twenty- five cents. Each day we would return home
with our frozen hands clutching a quarter and our minds clutching the visions of those
bicycles as we prayed for snow once again.
Mom had taken a job working from home. Each night she would soak piles of
leather pieces to soften and stretch over balls of twine to stitch together the next day
making a baseball. She was paid five cents for each one that met their standards. Mom
stitched hour after hour, day after day until her fingers bled.
Dad would come home from Camp Borden after many hours of hard labor and
army maneuvers to have supper and make us giggle and laugh with his outrageous stories of
the day’s events. After supper he would leave again returning much later with red and blue
paint stains on his hands and a tired smile on his face.
The days flew by in a blur as we shoveled up and down the streets dreaming of
those bicycles that grew more solid with every quarter we put in our piggy banks. I would go
to sleep each night and ride through towns and cities and over hills and through valleys until
I heard the sound of buoy bells ringing in the harbor.
I would pedal faster and faster, knowing I was almost there. I could see my old
home just down the road. As the bells got louder, I would slowly awake to the truth as the
alarm clock wound down on the night stand. Once again I would head off for school and
stand daydreaming, peering at that gleaming bicycle in the window of the bicycle shop.
Suddenly – Christmas was almost upon us and we needed to buy mom and dad a
present, so we pulled the plug on the piggy bank and tool our loot, a total of four dollars each
to Woolworth’s
continued in part 3.....
Christmas day is coming soon and so are my tears,
but this time it will not steal my spirit and soul;
so, I wipe my sad tears away to whisper prayers.
I am busy decorating as Christmas nears,
a lovely Christmas home is under my control;
Christmas day is coming soon and so are my tears.
I am decking my home with bright blinking downstairs,
a pretty tree with tinsel and balls is my goal;
so, I wipe my sad tears away to whisper prayers.
But, Christmas is more than me and my weeping cares,
a holy child born at Christmas has our hearts- stole;
Christmas day is coming soon and so are my tears.
Though this year is different I loudly yell cheers,
let's drink a red concoction from grandmas punch bowl;
so, I wipe my sad tears away to whisper prayers.
Thank you mom and dad for Christmas joy through the years,
and like we always did- I will go for a snowy stroll;
Christmas day is coming soon and so are my tears,
so, I wipe my sad tears away to whisper prayers.
_____________________
November 30, 2020
Poetry/Villanelle/Finding Christmas Joy
Copyright Protected, ID 11-1308-674-30
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Deck The Halls
sponsor, Joseph May, Judged 12/31/20
First Place
spires stretch heavenward in a twilight sky
crimson hues and nighttime blues do battle
as people lope lazily over a dusky bridge
like cattle with cameras;
snapping the domed limestone giant
below, boatmen skim across a shimmering mirror
reflecting fragmented moments
cast down from the world above
floating like flotsam; lifeblood
coursing through the city’s stone heart
amid those masses, we watched
the shadows grow steadily longer
and balls of soft lamplight glow gently brighter
until, suspended in the darkening air
they floated like no post was there
then, just like that -
the city shrugged off day’s last light
wrapping herself in the mysteries of night
where amorous wishes and twisting seine scenes
led to candlelit kisses and solitaire dreams
Socks and balls and skates and toys
The house was filled with oh, so much noise
Who laughed, who cried, who sometimes lied
Who filled those walls with love
Dogs and cats, rabbits and rats
They were all part of the mix
Who played with dolls, who colored on walls
Who played pick up sticks
Such were those days
A beautiful maze of laughter, of innocence, of grace
Now all has turned dim
Silence so grim
No movement, no stirring, just pain
Such were those days
A beautiful maze now memories are tattered and torn
My will weakened and old
My heart dieing and cold
Yet my soul still longing to live
The house, the noise, the cats, the toys
Such were those days, a beautiful maze