Quirkyalone Day we sat monitering the telly
alone on a Valintines Day had
never been such a chore
Freinds gathered to watch the game and to watch the
fyter-folly bout. They wrested, grappled and boxed.
The karate was sporty, I enjoyed the catch as catch can aspect of the thing myself.
We ate quail and wildrice. Strawberry crumples( suger cookies wrapped with nuts, cream cheese and jam with a fruit)
with wine and icecream. We made a Sporting jesture
from loniliness.
What a grand day my freinds. Bravo to our worthiness!
They found ways to make him odder than what he was.
They would receive messages
and would filter some and
not deleiver others.
His relationship was undermined
on purpose.
they found it wise in there worship
to celebrate the acheivements of some
while others were to struggle in there relationships.
into the interest of something
that has potentail
all things then were scrambled into confussion.
She wished him to be hurted by her choose in men.
(which is more efficient for flowers; however, modern methods like rosin pressing (heat/pressure) or solvent/subcritical extraction)
"Rosineer Presso" she had affairs with other men to tell his secrets. She found shameing him a sporty way of feeling feminine. Stories, .In questo paese è illegale praticare o ricevere sesso orale. Which is neither taught or preached. She smiled as such made her decision on who she married easiest.
( she heard a Preacher breathing heavily through the microphone saying "the devil:the devil the devlvil, she stood clapping her hands!")
Way back in 1983,
when I was just twenty-four you see,
very early in my career,
young, naïve, somewhat cavalier,
I wanted to buy a brand-new car,
something sporty, not some "boxcar".
Of course I had the money, the "dinero",
so I went out and bought a Chevy Camaro.
It was a 1983 Sport Coupe -
rather appropriate for my age group.
The color was diablo red,
and lemme tell ya! It sure turned heads!
Everywhere I went, that car got attention
and I won't deny it gave me an air of pretension.
Looking back, I suppose I was young and foolish
thinking that the car made me look coolish,
but that car was dependable
and took me where I needed to go,
whether on winding roads
or on the straight and narrow.
Now I have a treasury of memories:
its sounds, touches, and sights as well;
I still can remember that new-car smell.
Your first car is something you fondly remember,
forgetting the flaws, looking back on its splendor.
I won't lie to you to fake emotions I might feel
and tell you things you want to hear
In this give-and-take, no lie, that feels
lobsided and askew, sometimes like a tug of war
Breathlessly waiting, life in limbo
one toe in the water overly cautious
holding back ~
Stuck behind yield signs and stop signs
the occasional yellow lights
foot on the break ~ go but not too fast
Everyday is a lazy Sunday afternoon
we're out in our sporty lamborghini
dillydallying in life's slow lane
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
When I was all of twenty
I sipped the wine of plenty
But it went straight to my head
When I was all of thirty
The wine just tasted dirty
So I switched to rum instead
When I was all of forty
Got drunk and feeling sporty
I'd turn on the wit and charm
When I was all of fifty
Not feeling very nifty
I just dealt with all the harm
Theatre
Something happens I can't explain
It feels enclosed quite like a train
Within its wall you are truly set free
To be yourself or who you want to be It's like, let's pretend, or dressing up
Childlike feelings, they fill your cup
Escaping, distracting the daily grind
You can leave your worries all behind
Rehearsing, sets and stage lights
The anticipation of opening nights
A team feeling for those not so sporty
Rare chance for adults to act naughty
A sense of purpose shared with all
Commitment, a time to stand up tall
Drama, thriller, it is always a farce
Mischief and tears, acting an ****
If you act with respect to all around
A home from home is easily found
In our theatres, dreams come true
This beautiful place is open to you.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city
Splendour and majesty, nothing such pretty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
First rays of the sun, spread here fun.
Opera, Harbour Bridge, Blue Mountain.
Pretty pretty places, plenty plenty beauty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city
Clean clean beaches, green green trees,
Pleasant weather, cool cool breeze.
Kissing the shores, sea waives sporty.
Sydney my heart, Sydney my city
Kangaroo, emu, parrots, cockatoo.
4X fun, taste of barbecue.
Having flora and fauna, folk and fidelity.
Sydney my delight, Sydney my city.
Cheers of beers, music and dance.
Events and sports, friendship and romance.
People enjoy varied leisure activity.
Sydney my crave, Sydney my city.
In habitant's haven, half a hundred hills.
Love surfing thrills, basking when chills.
They toil for growth and prosperity.
Sydney my choice, Sydney my city.
People here thrive in an easy life.
Happy happy children with serene smile.
Over everything, supreme is humanity.
Sydney my pride, Sydney my city.
- S. D. Tiwari
On path of life, Me the runner.
In heat or cold, in rain or sun
' Sporty Persona ' is my banner.
Holding Moral Values, I run.
Honouring Honesty to proceed.
On path of life, Me the runner.
Truth, love and compassion to guide.
Not bothered, loser or winner.
In failure I'm not mourner
Spirited in rue or rapture.
On path of life, Me the runner.
With devotion, goal to capture.
I must overcome every strife.
I will succeed late or sooner.
Confronting each challenge of life.
On path of life, me the runner.
The oligarchy but an orgy
We’ve never kissed a toad so warty
Hoping for a prince
Puckered with a wince
While they make the sieg heil sporty
***
It starts in the little things,
A man's suit,
A floral dress,
Pretty pink bows,
And ties to impress.
Segregated lines,
To stand in before class,
Rough and sporty,
Or hands delicate glass.
Boys made for fawning over,
And chopping wood,
Business owner,
Bread winner,
With wives in the kitchen;
Ladies 'man',
Children 'can',
Can't, have,
Ideas or Plans,
Dress your boys for their jobs,
Players, soulless husband,
A mother robs,
Her son of free will,
He's made for work,
Not for frills.
A daughter weeps,
For hair cut short,
Father's word seeps,
Deep and curt,
"How would prince charming,
Climb Rapunzel's hair,
If for when he reached,
It was no longer there?"
Baby dolls,
Plastic toy kitchen,
Dainty soles,
Needles stitching.
Future mommy, don't you worry,
Mother raised you well,
When your tears start to swell,
Wipe them astray,
for when night dawns,
She prays,
All her hopes and dreams away.
People watch figure
Attracts everyone
Motivate body care
Sculpting soul capture.
Black is beautiful
Chocolatey smooth
Healthy, sporty
Pure esthetic.
Dark-skinned Apollo
Living sculpture
Women daydream
Elders forgotten thoughts.
In childhood me a tiny timid mouse,
paying unimportant role at house.
Day by day personality arouse.
Dreamed to grow up as mountain.
Circumstances didn’t entertain
Yet dormant desires sustained.
Confronted and never gave up !
Always tried to rise above,
to access success as deserved.
Struggled with several conflicts.,
being rustic or sophistic
as needed on principle strict.
Tried and tried as I met failure.
Met challenges, not to endure.
Sporty spirit : Soul pristine pure.
Always worked hard in broad spectrum.
Seeking satisfaction and charm,
since mountain turned stable and firm.
Such a disaster
self-tanning cream
the pride of looking sporty
the mirror pulls face
deep philosophy
the poet is in deep water
saved by çow tide
one type of success
when work brings happiness
and not endless doubts
the loser is a man
who knows he is incompetent
yet accuses other
the news I read
has been the same for 50 years
war and filmstars
I am forming my own wild sports team Grandma said.
We all wondered what in the atmosphere she had in her head.
Racquetball? Hockey? Wrestling? Softball or what?
Not sure yet, she said, but you may make the cut.
What talent would we have to do? Do we have to dance?
I am thinking of something sporty you might see in France.
Croissant maker? Latte’ foamer? We wanted to know.
I will figure it out she told us before the first snow.
We were thinking skiing or jumping out of a plane.
She told us it would be nothing at all that tame.
Our grandma is a hoot, a holler a scream and a kick.
You have to have a sense of humor she said to Uncle Rick.
We knew he did not have one, so he was out.
I know what it is! Cousin Louie said with a shout.
We’re going to be on the first noodle-making USA team.
This made grandma mad, and her nose started to steam.
At breakfast
I sit at a table with a man
who looks like an old chimpanzee
face long, beard grey
sporty blue driving cap on his head.
There is much experience in his face
of a life that has been worn away.
Like a woman I steal glances
and absorb it all in an instant.
I look beyond him.
On the wall above his head
a quilt of prayers hangs.
One proclaims, “May all beings find joy.”
And I think instead, “May all beings find Waldo.”
cracking myself up
amid the still and somber silence
of retreat.
(originally published in my 2nd book of poems and stories, LITTLE PINE, 2016)
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