Players Poems

The Players

The first act sets the scene
Romantic and serene

In the second act it is revealed
The conflict there that was concealed

Count to three, it's there to see
The act that brings finality...

The resolution or...  dissolution

There's a solution for ev'rything
Sometimes it's sweet, sometimes it stings

Sometimes it's bitter, sometimes sweet
But that's what makes the play complete

Though we leave the

PLAYERS ON THE FIELD

They align in position
Ready to move the ball
Doesn't matter how long they're gone
The know to whom the play will fall

Oh they will shout about
Foul play on the field
Fully aware of masks being worn
And the inability to face the guild

No TRUTH can hold them
No free flow in the ranks
They are the middle blocks
Separating rulers from the

Castles

                                                  On board 
  

Hakeem the dream

Hakeem "The Dream" Olajuwon,
Had moves defenders would frown upon.
From Lagos to Texas, he rose to fame,
And left rivals grasping in shame.

As "Little Moses," they called his name,
In Houston, he rose to acclaim.
He ruled with finesse,
Brought gold to the press,
And walked in the halls of great fame.

Till today, he's a legend of the game,
And basketball players

Players

The two stared at one another
both knew something that the other
didn’t; that was the game; the rules
by which they play, and played, the fools.

The putrid stench beneath their feet,
that those who went before excrete,
impregnates their skin to slow taint
their rotting ankles, in restraint;
for there is no escape, save one;
one word divides those lost or won.

They

A Sister's Lament

Is it wrong to feel jealous of my brothers?  
Am I evil for envying their wild freedom,  
For wanting, just once, to go where they go,  
To dance to every beat, lose myself in the night?  

They are at every party, every celebration,  
Free birds, untethered,  
While I sit

Players

Funny how she thinks,
She is the gold,
And oh, how it glitters.

Pitiful how he sees her,
Just like a new toy,
For his fantasies and pleasure.

Because some boys are players,
And girls are the games,
And the fun never ends.

Should I Forget

the great bard says
we're all players *
that play many parts 
but my shank hasn't shrunk
that the world's too wide for--
my manly voice fills it just fine
maybe after a pint or two
in mid-speech a word
(on the rarest occasion)
eludes me 
so--
okay--when it does
--don't you dare
I'll find it myself
don't deny my muscle its exercise
don't cast me a child

Players of Life

Let me tell you a story…
A story about life, where Solitude gracefully glides into the room, wearing a loose fitting gown, draping her curvaceous form. Piously she takes her place at the table of life, she is surrounded by Faith, Hope, Despair, Vision, Reality, and Fantasy. Furtive Destiny is seated at the head of the

The Players In the Park

The Players In The Park

by Edmund Siejka

An errant breeze slipped in 
Somewhere from the West Village 
Caressing a couple 
As they walked out of the park holding hands 
Shoulders touching 
Running her fingers through her hair 
She stopped to look up  
In return he smiled 
His arms bringing her closer
Their lips meeting. 

Nearby, the

Dramatis Personae - Players and Rogues

Labyrinthia  P. Babineaux  ……………  The White Witch of the Lower 9th Ward

Papa  Babineaux  …………………………… The Father, an honest apothecary

Algebra Babineaux  ………………………  The even-tempered Mother

Bumblebee  Babineaux  …………………  The precocious younger Sister

Gnat  Babineaux  ……………………………  The curious little Brother

Cabernet  Babineaux  ……………………  The

Players Not Spectators

The myths of innocence & simplicity
hide beneath a mask of fraility
within youthful pleasures of times long past
human desire forever heads the cast;
What seemed simple then,is just relative
through rose-tinted spectacles,we forgive,
forget so easily life's reality,
vulnerable,alone in our self-pity;
Circumstance has moved on,we have stayed
transfixed by myths,our memories frayed;
twenty-four hours,still was then, a day
but different complications held sway.

Our

Nobody Knows Who Your Players Are

Halfway through summer
  You delivered a bummer
Sold off all your big stars
  Nobody knows 
    who your new players are

Last night's game?
  You lost Ten-to-Nothing
Today you scored more
  Something like 17 to 4 

Poor fans have nothing to cheer
  We just cry in our beer
But, I'll come

Erotic Games

Players in the stadium
Patient as waiting soldiers
Seek stirring to signify
Attack artillery emboldened

Provisions are messages
Loaded with fresh opening 
Responses rapidly fired
Lonely's ease encroaching

Place plus time is firmed
Balaclava covered burgler
Creeps comically around corners
Salivating, smiling, eager

Tally the touches, gripped tap 
Slithered fingers, swimming fish
Sock threaded leeches reach thighs 
Standard restraint abolished 

Meddled with moods hang resplendent 
Sexy ceremony

Ocean Players

ghostly beluga whales
shy and discerning
hide out in coves

manatees giggle their secrets
their calves are frisky and open

dolphins swim toward the boats
making friends with everyone

sharks wait for lunch
hoping to catch a whiff of blood

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