The shuttlecock's not got a feather
my balls have lost their tether
yo-yo and hula hoop have gone for a loop
chasing rainbow's become a boring chore
in any kind of weather
and me I fling and fly frisbees no more
as now there's come the day
when games and music I can't play
the fiddle has a broken bow
out of wind such instruments
I know not how to blow
the guitar has no strings attached
the ukulele its self-same match
my drums I don't bang or bash
cymbals won't ride or crash
yet measure for measure
I treasure and love
the previously provided pleasure
by all of the above
Categories:
shuttlecock, games, how i feel,
Form: Rhyme
My favorite game has a shuttlecock.
You can hear my shrieks around the block.
People come running looking for detective chalk.
Thinking I was killed by a moron’s Glok.
You see I am not much of a sports jock.
During hopscotch I can barely find my rock.
I noticed today that I ruined my summer frock
Badminton has torn a hole in my new lace sock.
People are standing along the gray sidewalk.
This racquet game they had better not knock.
I watch my cohort give them a quick pickpock.
These Items I will later help her hock.
We’ll take them to swap down by the pirate’s dock.
I enjoy seeing the sneaky way she doth stalk.
Wallets disappearing, oh, what a shock!
They will be stirred up for days, talking the talk.
Categories:
shuttlecock, 3rd grade, 4th grade,
Form: Monorhyme
Wind blows in to eyes
Badminton halts in mid air
Shuttlecock reversed
Categories:
shuttlecock, games, nature, wind,
Form: Haiku
If you 2
Like me
Are lead astray by your ever so lively Cock and Ball's
You 2 may find yourself in the dock
If you didn't shout duck
And an errant Cock
Or playful Ball
Strikes you playing partner right in the face
Brace yourself
Those things burn and sting like Duck
And you 2 may be sitting in the Dock
For assault by means of a playful Badminton Shuttlecock
Or misdirected squash ball
If it was indeed
Categories:
shuttlecock, funny,
Form: Free verse
I play my life like my kind of sport
I face opponents in badminton court
Racquet and shuttlecock on hand
Just flick the birdie to the other end
In high clear the quilled rubber flew
A sure defensive stance I often threw
Preventing a smash, parrying a score
Thus, the shuttle lands on the floor
The green court is wide and long
Knees must be fast and strong
Calculated serves oddly placed
Unreturned, I can score an ace
I seldom position myself at the back
Mostly in front to deflect all attacks
Drop shots to elude sharp drives
A kill will deflate opponents’ pride
In the middle, when the rally starts
That instant where I need to be smart
Flicked, pushed and dropped a net shot
The umpire called fault, although I was not
I may lose today, I might be in pain
But I’ll be back tomorrow to play again
I live my life like a badminton game
I play for fun and not for fame
Categories:
shuttlecock, life, metaphor, sports,
Form: Rhyme
It maybe the words we use
not something that we see,
that makes it seem so strange
but maybe it's just me.
In cricket you have a square leg
football teams have wings,
with tennis a forearm is smashed
and golfers play with swings.
Then there's American football
played with a ball out of shape,
and athletes run for miles
to see who can break a tape.
Boxers have a ring with corners
wrestlers use a hammer lock,
baseball is played on a diamond
and badminton with a shuttlecock.
Gymnasts always act as though
they are throwing some kind of fit,
and motor racing drivers
have to drive into a pit.
Sport was for recreation
supposed to be just a game,
now they've become big business
and they're not at all the same.
Categories:
shuttlecock, funny
Form: Rhyme
A father and his daughter
playing badminton
in a weedy backyard without a net.
How many times
can the battering back-and-
forth connect to send a plastic
shuttlecock flying? Stroke,
that’s 70, return again
on a high easy arc, 71, while
Mom fixes dinner (meatloaf
again, count the grocery
pennies, 79 a pound, and
a husband with nothing better
to do after work than hit plastic
birdies).
But they’re actual
flying birds, 81, these
soaring plastic wings
rallied by a father
and his daughter, 82, stroke
83, never
let it touch the ground
or you have to start
all over again
counting. Yesterday
they sailed to 99 before
dinner which is always
waiting.
Categories:
shuttlecock, daughter, family, imagination, father,
Form: Free verse