Long Matches Poems
Long Matches Poems. Below are the most popular long Matches by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Matches poems by poem length and keyword.
Assocated Writers of Wrestling:,
Boxing and Wrestlers Guild INC.
All Pro Grapplers Union
South Beach International Stars
United to bring a night
of Wrestling
and the glitz of Ceromony.
CHAMPIONSHIP FALLOUT
The Golden Days Of Wrestling
PRO SERIES
Managers Specail.. "he Sacred Order" BattleRoyale
!5 men in----13 out
last two are chosen managers and
Winner takes all Contenders Pride Championship
will allow te titlist Championship Oppurtunites
thruoghout the year. It's called the
Pro League Stakes Championship
the titlist is number one contender
to all avalible Championships
upon contract negocation.
The Managers Pride Contracts number
12, Twelve oppurtunities to become
a champion. The Mangers will have control of
the Wrestlers career guiding the Wrestler
to a Championship.
Last Years winner went on to be
the 2022 Match of the year winner.
The names listed here are great stars
who given the opputunity
might wrestle there way into
both contention and Championship Title.
Also,
The Night when Giants Collide
Maury Muary The Giant of Mercer
will face Undeafeated in 120 bouts" Cisler Calm" The Movae Giant"
in a round the waist strap match.
Best out of three falls
one match no DQ...
One Match a texas tornado match
the Last match
A beany Brawl Falls count anywhere.
Referree will Be The Mean Man From Havanna
Cuban Teal Gonzalos
more matches to be annouced.
Bassey Gripp here
with Your Pro Wrestling Update!
The daylight hours start to fade and die
Darkness creeps upon us like a stalking black cat
Streetlights flank both sides of the road
Looming large like massive matches waiting to be ignited
Special sensors activate, striking them into life
Dim at first then building to illuminate our way
Gradually the lustrous shimmer intensifies
Glowing giant angels with gleaming halos
Sodium bulbs emitting a golden aura
Shining in the dark with a comforting light
Beaming brilliance on our world making it bright
Meandering into the distance like a yellow corn snake
Guiding us on our way along our streets and roads
Jan Allison
2nd October 2014
Contest: Find The Puzzle T A R N D A I
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud ~awarded 5th place~
...And of course who can forget all the
black-on-black we see every day?
More people are killed by such violence
then cops could ever dare take away.
Take all the dead from the rioting
and, depressingly, you will all find
it matches a weekend’s murder count
in Chicago..let that sit in your mind.
Are all their deaths somehow less tragic
because their killers weren’t pale of flesh?
I keep waiting for folks to address this,
but at this point I won’t hold my breath.
Speak of this and all the people bray
that your evil and ‘victim-blaming,’
then they proclaim that ‘Black Lives Matter,’
but ignore their culture isn’t working.
The worst of it, we should acknowledge,
is the two hundred fifty black lives
that are taken from us every day
by the cuts of abortionist knives.
To think of all those young lives cut short
is horrific and so frightening,
think of a medium-sized company
every day up and disappearing.
But if this fact is ever brought up,
these same protestors act all appalled,
they think this means that you ‘hate women,’
that those children have no rights at all!
The fact that half of those kids are girls
never seems to enter into their heads.
They like to say ‘Black Lives Matter,’
but then make their very children dead.
Now the great unifying factor
that binds up all the hypocrisy
is that they only seem to promote
dark-skinned people if they are lefties.
They do not talk of excessive force
when pale people are shot down by cops,
but if it happens in blue cities
then they demand the whole country stop!
They care not for a dark-skinned person
who built up a good life through hard work,
nor the future children of these towns,
nor good people tired on the jerks.
In fact the left resents these people,
since you can’t control virtuous folk,
the only Black Lives that matter to them
are the ones who bring Democrats votes.
Perche Sono Me IV (Fire)
It’s been a long time since I have told anyone why I was myself and why I am me. It was long ago that I dictated three prose poems on this matter. The same questions have come up; newer ones add to my plight. I am single because I will not settle for anyone who only fulfills the needs of my loins. I prefer a person that arouses my intellect and respect for her. The people I have met only meet one of those criteria, except one meeting two of the three. Still, to get all three is a challenge. Even getting two of the three is a challenge.
Why are you Single?
I am myself because of the pain I have endured by many who have claimed to want of me while they were giving a kiss of deceit. Playing with anyone's emotions is an unethical crime that haunts the perpetrator later in life. Several females who claim to know what they want are falling and feeling the pain they deserve for what they wanted was not deserved or earned. If you are stupid enough to want a bridge and house built for you without contributing to the production, then do not expect to have them when the man has built them. Of course, an unethical man will claim to have these until you are trapped and left out in the trash. Do not expect the good man to take you in, as you are not recyclable. When you give up on wanting a respectable man, you give up on being respectable to yourself. Your pain and the pain of your children were caused by you pursuing the pleasure of your false beliefs. One of them believed that she wanted a person of her faith. He could not commit to the person of free milk. He used her for five years. HARK to her for showing disrespect to herself and her daughter. Now, she is with someone who cares about how they treat her. Putting aerosol on excrement does not make a candle's scent flow in the breeze.
What type of partner do you want to marry?
Education is vital to me as I have seen many go to school only to find a mate or find a person to mate with. It is pretty disturbing that the goal is procreation and recreation. It is wiser to find someone who matches the qualities of a good girlfriend or wife if they meet the higher qualities. If you want a good friend, find someone with the qualities of a good girlfriend. If you want a good girlfriend, find someone who would make a good wife. If you want a good wife, then focus on these two aspects.
My smile is a mile wide
I'm so happy--I can't hide
How my insides turned to mush
From the day my heart was pushed
From the darkest depths of me
Now I'm flying-been set free
Seeing light for the first time
Your the star that brightly shines
Through the night to show the way
My skies are blue--no longer grey
You opened me up--I was closed
Now the love I never showed
Is flowing out in loving batches
Our hearts paired--the perfect matches
You took away my loneliness
From the first sweet tender kiss
Awakening the strength I lost
From a past that made me cost
Years of my life to go by
Suspicions held me back to try
Another chance to start anew
Now my choice is only you
Soaring into open arms
And tight hugs to always calm
Me down when I start to be
Flooded with the memories
Of lovers who have done me wrong
I listen to your heartbeat song
OF love that will never end
Music and words that will send
Me to a place I will be
Safe from my past destiny
with a rope bridge for a spine, supportive and supple –
and diving boards where eyelashes bend, leaping to new heights, embracing the belly flops –
covered in veins that map a life of roads to work and school drop offs,
country lane rambles and pavements pounded with the family dog –
holding out fingers that are matches burning bright but never scalding,
with walls for eyebrows that never build across, but are kept apart and open –
those above knees, themselves moulded from rock from pebble from grit,
and below a forehead lined in streams moving, rejuvenating, soothing –
women
woman
body
her, own.
One day my dragon, discovered how to read; whomever taught him, is anyone’s guess. Once he discovered historical novels; none of us would rest. Night and day, he inhaled words; great fiction, based on fact. Then one day, our power went out; his world, it just went black.
For eight long days endured; we could hardly see but, the hardest thing to take was dragon’s anxiety. “What sort of world is this?” He shouted furiously; “where nothing works, not even lamps; oh no, I cannot read!” We tried our best to calm him; during his rants and raves; it seemed a good idea, but dragon paid no heed.
“I want my books; I have to read!” Screamed dragon, as he cried. His elephant tears soaked carpets; so great was his novel need; we tried to scrounge up candles, matches and the like; but he complained, his head, it ached, from reading in dim light.
Then he had an idea; it was a shocking fright. “My flames,” he said, “Are brighter, than any man made light.” Talk about your lead-ball-drop; our stomachs, it did pierce. “You’ll have to read out in the rain,” we warned him, “not in here.”
The idea didn’t appeal to him and so, he soon conceded; oh, we were so happy, when he did; no father warnings were needed. Then an idea bloomed in me; of which I did relay; perhaps old dragon could be appeased; by some books on tape! So, I went to gramp’s library and borrowed all I could; he loved reading like dragon; before he’d lost his sight. I must’ve pulled 500 tapes from his bookshelves of cedar wood.
Now grump’s; somewhat of a hoarder; leant me half his batteries and an ancient old tape player; dragon gave a crushing hug, when I returned home later. I spread the tapes upon the table; and dragon’s eyes grew with delight; to proportion’s that I’d never seen on him; that very night.
When power finally was restored, to our neighborhood; dragon resumed reading books; his anxiety, gone for good. I vowed that such, would never occur again and I did my research thoroughly, days on the web, I’d spend. I researched every reader; every mp3 and book; dragon was so happy with his new technology. A couple of extra batteries; I’d bought and kept recharged; for downloading stories, I bought him, a pre-paid visa card.
ETCHED IN STONE
The marks are recently made, I’m sure
And appear like letters etched in stone
There’s a message here for me to find
I can just make out what’s been carved
With a line through it, as if it is halved
Perhaps someone’s changed their mind
Their expectations of love, now blown
But such is the way it goes with amour
Maybe rediscovered in years to come
Two names, one heart, just says it all
If unrequited love had caused the line
But to carve it in stone is a lot of fuss
It is perhaps, a message for each of us
That it takes a long time just to resign
And to accept that taste of bitter gall
Resolved, with more depths to plumb
But these are no more than scratches
A knife gets blunt quickly, doing that
Hard granite, after all’s said and done
It may be why the line cuts the heart
Possible love at first sight, at the start
And rejection soon after it was begun
But underneath it an etched reply sat
A reconciling message and it matches
Sara played basketball in squad ParalympicsGB,
At Euros, at Worlds and at Commonwealth Games,
In Manchester and in Melbourne, and had TT victory,
At the Paralympics in London with her team-mate.
Her boyfriend introduced her to table tennis nifty,
And she’s a paralytic, from a virus at the age of 15,
“Meeting people in the same situation as [myself]
was a real eye-opener…it opened up my life again.“
In 2013 Sara and Jane Campbell took the gold,
In the team event class 1-3 in Bayreuth, Germany,
And then she won bronze for herself in the singles,
To ride right onto 2 bronzes in Slovenia, Slovakia.
Illness and surgery were then her disappointing lot,
But she returned in the Lignano Master Open 2016,
To win a fine silver for the team. In Rio, the quarters,
For both singles and team matches. Born 12/04/1990.
Max is coming to spend the night. I am over the moon about it, him being my grandson.
We have tried this two or three other times. It has never worked out. He was younger then.
He is four-years and nine days today, and it is his idea. He is coming after his nap.
I smile imagining all the crazy, silly stuff we will do. We will not be outside. It is too wet.
We could clean the porch. I know he would love that. I would let him spray the Windex.
Use a soap bucket, and sudsy water. He loves making a big fat mess.
We could stay inside and poke around the junk drawers. I have plenty of them.
Magic markers? Matches? Knives? I have given away most of the toys; they never interested him.
We have boxes we could paint, and we could make a fort with all the blankets and pillows.
Why do I not have glue? Four year olds LOVE to glue stuff. I have tape. I will have to find it, and quickly.
He will not want to eat anything. He is always too busy to eat. I wrack my brain trying to think what else I need to do to get ready.
My husband says “Don’t worry. We will end up taking him home anyway.”
But he is four now, I argue, knowing Grandpa is probably right.