Long Teammate Poems
Long Teammate Poems. Below are the most popular long Teammate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Teammate poems by poem length and keyword.
The love of a mother for her newborn babe,
The love of a child for adoring parents;
The love of a nun for Lord Jesus,
The ardor of a monk for his order.
All of these are loves so true.
The love of a kitten for her mama cat,
The love of a dolphin for her calf;
The tenderness of a mare protecting her foal,
An eagle carrying her young on her wing.
All of these are loves so true.
The love of a soldier for his country,
The love of an owner for his company;
The love of a patriot for his flag,
The love of a wise man for his disciple.
All of these are loves so true.
The love of a teammate for his fellows,
The love of a dreamer for his dream;
The love of a poet for his craft,
The love of a fisherman for the sea.
All of these are loves so true.
Romeo's love for Juliet, Antony's for Cleopatra,
A Pilgrim's love for the Haj, for Mecca, for the Shrine of Aquinas;
Rapunzel's love for her hair, and Samson's for his strength;
Tom Sawyer's for Becky Thatcher, and Sidney Carton's for Lucie Manette.
Yes, all of these are loves so true, yet still confined to this earth;
My love for you breaks through to Heaven---'tis Eternal, forever aye.
February 25, 2018
My father made me Not be rude
Bless my food
Know what’s good
My father made me Sit up straight
Tow my weight
Be a teammate
My father made me Help my mother
Think of others
Love my brothers
My father made me Think like a man
Do all I can
Be what I am
My father
Made me
Form:
Gunfire blasts as chiseled arms and legs
begin to rotate
Getting out and kicking is the key, one
mustn't hesitate
My leg is ALL mine to run and for me to
consume total control
I must run freely and fearlessly, I must
dig deep down within the depths of my
soul
Running this race isn't about selfish pride
and egoistic glory
It's about being true, doing my part and
running so that we all may get the victory
Yes! I must be careful and ready when
the baton is passed my way
My grip must be tight, my mind focused and
my heart in it for there mustn't be any
delay
I must receive, own and hone my leg like a
true winner
If I do otherwise, then all the work done before me
will mean nothing. The headlines will read,
"LOSER"
When my leg is done, I must do the right thing
and pass the baton
A carefully administered hand-off to my teammate,
just a token of unity... an attempt to cross the finish
line as ONE
Spring has sprung, the fields have turned green;
He walks to the sunshine and stands on his dream;
He grew up in fields of brown earth and sweet hay;
But the ones he loved best were the fields made for play.
He thinks of his dad out driving his Deere;
He whispers, “Mom I love you, wish you were here.”
He salutes for his brother in a land far away,
Protecting our freedom, his hero in every way;
The butterfly’s grab him in the pit of his being;
It’s really sublime all these sights he is seeing;
He’s wished for this day from five years old;
He turns where he’s at, as the moment unfolds.
Looking up at the flag, waving in the breeze,
His mind wonders back to the fields of Albert Lea.
Never a happier day in the sun,
Then when the crops were all in and the game it was won.
Like cows to the barn the crowd ambles in.
Slowly the din rises as a crescendo begins.
Calmed by the noise and the business at hand,
He loosens his body, focusing his mind on the plan.
There’s banter and chatter, then a teammate to call,
“Hey! Let’s play catch, you got a ball?”
Soon he is limbered up loose, and ready to go;
A sprint to the steps and into the dugout below;
He paces the floor, awaiting the call;
Then the voice on the P.A. welcomes them all.
Leading off the left fielder Harding Clay! Leftfielder Clay echo’s away;
Harding, what a name, though it sounded just great to him today.
He removes his cap and faces the flag;
The anthem rings out in tones bright and glad;
It happens each time and he’s not sure why;
He can’t make it through without tears in his eye.
The awesomeness of it all envelopes his soul;
He silences the noise, regaining control;
The great race to become the champions of Fall;
Begins with the two sweetest words he’ll recall;
Play Ball!
August 13, 2019
Friday Night Check-ins
The days have been calm and collected.
The guests have been happy, content.
The weekday staff scurry out from the hotel
To avoid the upcoming event.
Weekend receptionists tremble
As the Friday night check-ins approach,
Fearing the tsunami of wrinklies
On their three-day excursions-by-coach.
The first vehicle’s brakes squeal their warning
As its door opens up with a sigh.
The girl at the desk and her male teammate
Watch the porchway with dread in their eyes.
The first wrinkly disembarks backwards,
Reaching up to be handed her Zimmer.
The scowl on her face giving more than a hint
Of the litany of protests within her.
Slowly the vehicle disgorges
Its fifty malcontent arrivals.
The front desk staff offer a brief heartfelt prayer
For their sanity, composure, survival.
Like an unerring wave of displeasure
The wrinklies shuffle in through the door,
Shoving aside anyone heading out –
They’ve made this manoeuvre before.
The party’s predominantly female,
Determined and far from benign.
Apart from one chap, in windcheater and cap
Looking hen-pecked and toeing the line.
They descend on reception like locusts,
Complaining, demanding and cackling.
The staff at the desk have nowhere to hide
From the surge of objections they’re tackling.
Ground floor room! No steps! Wheelchair access!
Why no lift? Single occupant! Porter!
The tottery old girl with the big Zimmer frame
Demands a young man to escort her.
The onslaught is tough and relentless
As the wrinklies press home their attack.
Then, deftly dealt-with, the tidal wave thins
As they head to their rooms to unpack.
Pleased with the way things were handled,
The reception-staff think they’ve survived.
But outside the lobby, brakes hissing with glee,
Another full coach has arrived…
Young and eager to defend
Our country till the very end
Buzzcuts uniforms and nerves
Training that will help them swerve
From the danger they will face
In a far off scary place
Away from everyone they love
Praying nightly to above
They are safe from all the danger
Families made with other strangers
In their squad team and platoon
Sometimes it is way too soon
To see a teammate lose their life
It cuts deeply like a knife
Inside your heart it's really bad
To know it gets worse and it's sad
Realizing you could be
The next In someone's memory
Because an enemy attack
Will never let you return back
To your loving family
A situation that will be
Remembered till the end of time
War is such a deadly crime
Character References
By Mark D. Stucky
If I applied for new employment,
should I write down for my references
my malicious manager who mistreats workers,
my onetime teammate serving prison time,
my drug-dealing cousin crashing in a crack house,
or long-lost relatives living in unknown locations?
If I used such rogue references,
could I honestly expect acceptance?
Yet, Jesus applied for the job
of Redeemer of humanity
and, for references, he is using us,
rogue saints and reformed sinners,
who all too often fail our calling
to love all other people
and pursue righteousness.
With character references
as checkered as Christians are,
can Jesus expect acceptance
by the rest of the world?
(First published in Calla Press, 9 April 2022. See also my poems “Hate Vacuuming?” and “What Would Jesus Tweet?”)
(Image by Van Tay Media on Unsplash.com.)
Mind and time
Is it true? That the relief you feel is just a ghost? That the hand you hold is just your own. Your fear of life is just alone, the abyss of your eyes never meet the same. You've put your light out and relight it, this cycle continues and you havent a clue. You cant be afraid of life and tell the truth, you're self aware but to whom? You tell ones who are paid to listen, but not the whole truth.
Not the burning church with the laughter and the cheers, Both smiles in your eyes and freedom from your mouth, you hear the worries but no ones reacting, you need to relax. Take a moment and breath, whom are you talking to? I see her and I feel her, even when had breath she wouldnt give you CPR! Why would you care about the skin of the being whose life was never aimd at you for an audience!? Another Christmas, new year, valentines with the cat.
The only significants in which the lines havent blurred, Are you really doing that again!? Its not even Thanksgiving yet. What day is it? Does that matter? Do you have somewhere to be? Oh right appointments, such a rich and fulfilling life you have.... you know if you don't want to be apart of this then their are meds to- wait! What day is it? Why is it sun outside? Why are there fireworks? What day is it?! Why? Why does that matter? Has there been an emergency?! If so what the hell are you going to do?
The new teammate on the payroll will put you on so many things youre going to be in a box drooling. No! What!? I said NO! I know what day it is! I know what time it is and you have flown so close to the sun that your wings are clip! Youll be back at step one soon! No! I won't! And if I slip I still have my calendar and my clock!
My son's smile shines, in a photograph, standing out from the smiles of his high school track and cross-country team. Other photos of Dan showed him uncomfortable, afraid, tentative, or bored. When he played soccer, he stared into space, once being hit by a speeding ball. His coach said he lacked aggression and shouldn't play. In tennis, he was self-critical, swearing when the ball went out or hit the net. All that changed when he joined the cross-country team. Why? The man they called "coach" - Coach was always positive, never having a bad word for anyone. At the annual awards ceremony, he had something nice to say about everyone on the team and always had an amusing anecdote, as he recognized the individuality of each teammate. His message of camaraderie, positivity, humor, and most of all, fun, went a long way towards producing all those smiles, and most importantly to me, that of my son.
What man could make them run three miles?
It was his message, his approach.
Find the frivolity, the smiles, the fun,
in the photograph of the team and "Coach".
Saudade for friends I have lost
as I get older
I lose more people
every year
more people I knew
have died moving on
and I mourn their lost friendship
wished I had been
a better friend for them
and knew them better
and with the corona virus
spreading around the world
I will lose so many more
in the coming year
as the virus spreads
its malignancy far and wide
I lost my father due to cancer in 1985
and my sister
due to a freak illness in 2007
and my mother
due to Alzheimer’s in 2005
and my father-in-law as well in 2007
Demel Tucker
high school debate teammate
dead of HIV in 1995
Julian Bartley and his son
died in a terrorist bombing
in Nairobi in 1998
Jon Weber college roommate
dead due to prostate cancer
in 2000
Paul Simon friend from the visa line
dropped dead of a heart attack
in 2004
Ted Halstead
one of my best bosses
died of heart attack in 2007
Chris Richard
one of my former bosses
from my days in Bangkok
dropped dead of a heart attack
shortly before we were due
to have lunch in 2014
and so many others
I have lost
along the way
and soon there will be
so many more
as I get old in the corona era