Long Frankfurt Poems
Long Frankfurt Poems. Below are the most popular long Frankfurt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frankfurt poems by poem length and keyword.
Simon started playing wheelchair basketball,
Aged twelve at a school community project,
And under coach Ian Laker accepted the call,
To play with London Titans so as to connect.
In 2008 he debuted at the Beijing Paralympics,
He and the GBR squad won the bronze medal,
And in 2009 they won with World Cup phonetics,
5th in the 2010 World Cup Championship pedal.
In 2013 at the Frankfurt European Champs,
Simon and his GBR team struck the top gold,
And then in 2015 at more European Champs,
Simon & co won yet another sparkling gold.
In Rio de Janeiro at the Paralympic Games,
The GBR basketball squad collected bronze,
A triumph for such an elite contest, no games,
Where the best is given by first class scions.
At the age of 17 Ian broke his back,
In a motorbike accident, had rehab,
He then worked for a w/c company,
Who showed him w/c basketball fab.
For 3 years he played in the club,
Of the Sheffield Steelers, and then,
He transferred to the Tameside Owls,
To join the British team of deft men.
In 2009 at the European Champs,
Ian and team won the bronze, Turkey,
And then in Israel at more Europeans,
,2011, the team collected gold monkey.
In 2013 at the Europeans in Frankfurt,
The basketball team won the lush gold,
Then in 2015 in Worcester, East Sussex,
He rolled his team into another gold.
So when Rio came they were ready,
And took the bronze from Turkey, 82-76,
Ian was born in Barnsley a 3 pointer,
On the 29th March 1982, quick sticks.
Books
I went to the Frankfurt Book Fair the other day.
It was mind-boggling..Books!
There were fat books, thin books,
White books, black books, tawny books,
Paperbacks, hardbacks, beautifully bound books,
Pure books, lax books, learned books, lay books,
Plain books, books of many colours,
Books on every subject under the sun,
Not to mention other books on
Distant galaxies, pulsars, quasars, black holes,
Books on any theme you can think of,
Or on themes you can’t even pronounce, from:
Art to Arthropods,
Bees to Biochemistry,
Cats to Catastrophes
Drugs to Decadence,
Energy to Ergonomics,
French Cooking to Frescos,
Guns to Gout,
History to Hippopotami,
Internal Medicine to Icebergs'
Julius Caesar to Justification,
Kulturkampf to Kinetics,
Lace to Logogriphs,
Man to Manchuria,
Nietzsche to Nonsense Rhymes,
Opera to Ophthalmoscopes,
Poodles to Pollution,
Quantum Mechanics to Queen Victoria,
Russell to Rabbits,
Shaw to Shingles,
Tao to Torts,
Urdu to Ultimatums,
Virgil to Vivisection,
Whales to Witchcraft,
X-rays to Xylographs,
Yoga to Youth Hostels,
Zen to Zola,..
By closing-time my legs were giving out.
A voice, it seemed, was saying:
“Of more than is taught by these, my son, take care.
Of making many books there is no end,
And much study is weariness of the flesh.” 1
I don’t know about making them, I thought,
As I commenced my get-away from the Penguin stand,
But it takes something of an athlete just to glance at them.
On reaching the gates I felt crushed,
First by the crowds, and second,
Under the sheer weight of unfathomable ignorance.
1. Ecclesiastes 12.12
Heavy backpack
on sure pavement.
Travel purse, crisscrossing
my sternum.
Following faithfully behind,
or nearby,
my spouse’s steady pace;
so excited.
We are in Frankfurt;
soon we’ll be inside the museum.
This was a side trip.
We saw that we would be clanging through.
The train would stop,
as all trains do,
at certain spots.
So excited!
What wonderful artwork will be
inside?!
Suddenly
I fly -
splat…
There was a trap;
An upturned frown.
I hit the ground
hard.
Zipped up, in my bubble jacket,
hood up,
in shock.
I will fast forward -
we see first
the “Good Samaritan.”
I’m on the ground,
in pain and panic.
A faceless man,
along with my man,
helps me up.
I never saw his face.
He hardly saw mine.
I’ll never forget his care;
sounds simple I know.
The only injury was to my ribs.
My purse stabbed me
with sunglasses, cellphone and small journal.
Could have saved me from worse disaster…
Though I hit the thumb side of my fist
and my knee, neither bothered me.
I could breathe.
No outside bruise.
No need for emergency room.
Just static…you know.
It gets better every day;
and I have a story to tell
about
how I am thankful.
I went to the Frankfurt Book Fair the other day.
It was mind-boggling..
Books! There were fat books, thin books,
White books, black books, tawny books,
Paperbacks, hardbacks, beautifully bound books,
Pure books, lax books, learned books, lay books,
Plain books, books of many colours,
Books on every subject under the sun,
Not to mention other books on
Distant galaxies, pulsars, quasars, black holes,
Books on any theme you can think of,
Or on themes you can’t even pronounce, from:
Art to Arthropods,
Bees to Biochemistry,
Cats to Catastrophes
Drugs to Decadence,
Energy to Ergonomics,
French Cooking to Frescos,
Guns to Gout,
History to Hippopotami,
Internal Medicine to Icebergs,
Julius Caesar to Justification,
Kulturkampf to Kinetics
Lace to Logogriphs,
Man to Manchuria,
Nietzsche to Nonsense Rhymes,
Opera to Ophthalmoscopes,
Poodles to Pollution,
Quantum Mechanics to Queen Victoria,
Russell to Rabbits,
Shaw to Shingles,
Tao to Torts,
Urdu to Ultimatums,
Virgil to Vivisection,
Whales to Witchcraft,
X-rays to Xylographs,
Yoga to Youth Hostels,
Zen to Zola,..
By closing-time my legs were giving out.
A voice, it seemed, was saying:
“Of more than is taught by these, my son, take care.
Of making many books there is no end,
And much study is weariness of the flesh.”
I don’t know about making them, I thought,
As I commenced my get-away from the Penguin stand,
But it takes something of an athlete just to glance at them.
I felt crushed, not only by the crowds
but also by the weight of my appalling ignorance.
Packed up again,
Cedars and crescents in my carry-on,
A heart and soul in my suitcase…
The mattress on my bed is bare, save for a straw hat
Resting in the middle of it and a bottle of cologne
There are scrapes on the wall
And bits where the paint came off
The floor is littered with baggage, hardly a place to step
But the room feels empty… yet again
I’ll put my home under my hat
And take one last look at the faded curtains
Hanging over my windows
1:03 am
Last call on my cell phone: Grandpa
Last call on my cell phone: A leather pillow and apple vinegar
Last call on my cell phone: A school bus in the rain
Last call on my cell phone: A hug, a kiss and another suitcase
Last call for Mr. Bakhash… Please proceed to Gate 43…
Last call…
The airports are all the same
Frantic people, too busy to look back…
Confused children tailing their parents
Overpriced coffee, stale sandwiches… all too familiar
Heathrow, Starbucks…
Heathrow, Laptops…
Heathrow, iPods…
Heathrow, Crowds…
Heathrow, Empty
The airports are all the same…
Empty
Los Angeles, Frankfurt, Paris, Dubai, Beirut
Empty
Ade is a 2.5 wheelchair basketball player,
Who was born in Lagos in Nigeria in 1978,
His home town is Liverpool, a Mersey sayer,
In Spain club BSR Amiab Albacete is a date.
He lives partly in London, joined the Bullets,
And he’s travelled with the sport worldwide,
German, Italian, Israeli and South Korean sets,
Sunshine is his normality to love and abide.
In 2003 at the Europeans in Sassari in Italy,
Ade and his basketball team won the bronze,
And in 2005 at more Europeans, Paris’s sway,
The GB squad came second with silver cons.
Then in 2007 at the World Champs, Germany,
A silver was wrought, and in Beijing in 2008,
TeamGB won a bronze to the podium occupy,
And in 2011 a gold fell, Isreali Euro freight.
2013 and TeamGB won the Euros, Frankfurt,
2015 they won another Euro gold, Worcester,
So in 2016 at Rio Ade contributed to support,
His team to add a bronze to this large cluster.
Ade was jailed by Liverpool Crown Court,
For claiming over £33000 of state benefits:
Housing, council tax benefit, income support,
In 2009 he spent six months with jail slits.