Golf is a game whose aim is to hit a very small ball into a even smaller hole, with weapons singularly ill-designed for the purpose.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golf is a game whose aim is to hit a very small ball into a even smaller hole, with weapons singularly ill- designed for the purpose.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Art of Deception
It’s not a game
like any other game
where a golf ball travels the distance
and being putted into a hole
it is only a small white ball
being lured into a hole
dark and full of deception
have you ever wondered
why the ball is never black?
the hands that hold the putter
take a firm grip in a certain art form
there is positional assurance
before teeing
and these very hands
network with the mind
in continuance they play
vicariously with the heart
and when the world
is minding its own course
and waiting for another PGA tournament,
the greenery is overshadowed
like a transgressor
the golfer becomes an infidel
drunk like a kite in the wind
moaning in apology
with numbness on his lips
making a hiatus
wider than the golf course
how to fine tune this art
with family blunted by fame?
and fortune?
and deception?
poem by Leonard Dabydeen
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For A Round Of Golf
For leisure the game that so many do play
For a round of golf 'tis a beautiful day
By the wide slow flowing river that crawls to the sea
Men and women practice their strokes before their evening tea.
As a boy I believed hobby golfers had easy jobs
And that those who enjoyed golf were well to do snobs
But such antiquated thinking not relevant today
As all kinds of classes the game of golf play.
A beautiful day for a beautiful game
For most hobby golfers with no aspirations to fame
After work they go to the golf course in the evening sun
And play the eighteen holes for the sake of fun.
Of the praises of golf everybody doesn't sing
But for the participants a game without physical contact can be such a fun thing
In the golf course by the river that to the sea crawl
The crack of the iron on the stone hard golf ball.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Golf is a game in which one endeavors to control a ball with implements ill adapted for the purpose.
quote by Woodrow Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fishing or Golf, Take your Pick
Do you golf? I've been asked this question a great deal
But I answer with a smile, "Hey, a golf ball won't make a meal."
If you use your driver or iron, whatever your whim
I reply, "I would rather try to teach a worm to swim."
Some argue, you get exercise by walking from hole to hole
You can't do that sitting in a boat holding a pole.
No matter if you golf or fish, both cost a lot of dough
And both result in making your wife a fishing or golf widow.
One can't be sure which sport is really the best
Until you have tried both, passed the inevitable test.
So, if you can worm your way through all this confusion
You might fish around and land a sound conclusion.
This won't decrease your drive nor will you be less on the ball
By weighing the pros and cons for each sport overall.
Golfing has some prestige whereas fishing does not
So pick your choice, determine your own lot.
You can't make a mistake whichever one you choose
Cause after all, what have you got to lose
So my friends, if we don't always agree
Fish around for your solution, it may fit you to a tee.
poem by Jr. William B. Booth
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Game of Golf
Golf is my brothers passion, my sister-in laws as well
From where l'm standing Oh! my word it looks like a game from hell
Legs astride back is bent and the arms down all stretched out
Now it's time to hit the ball and give it one good clout
Then they do the walking and try to find the ball
If it's in the right spot then their walking tall
Will they reach the 18th hole without getting in the rough
Will it pour with rain until, they say we've had enough
Will one beat the other, will it end in tears
But then l guess if it gets that bad, they'll down a good few beers
Is it really worth though bending, stretching, hitting
No l'm sorry not for me, l'd rather just be sitting
I guess they'll go on playing, well the fresh air does them good
l'm not so sure about the rest of it, l do not think l could
Walk around in the rain, hitting putting sighing
Little white balls in the air, god, they go a flying
Through the air down the green and in a tiny hole
Only to take it out again, is this really reaching a goal
You'll find them every weekend playing on the green
Wearing funny clothes and shoes, like you never seen
They'll push on round the golf course, until they reach the end
In and out of all them holes, they're clearly round the bend.
poem by Dianne Anderson
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Smaller & Smaller
Drought makes the workers dream
Muscles and fields of green
Shovel the last few crumbs
Of generosity
Open hearts, open mind, open mouth, open vein
Drain
Someday the rains will come
My blistered hands tell me
Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow
Bite
Bite
Bite
Cry
Ill keep coming back
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Squash me
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Under the charity
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Under the topsoil
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Under the fingernail
Smaller and smaller and smaller
Then small becomes all becomes all..........
Bite
Bite
Bite
Cry
Its not a mirage
Its not a mirage
Trickling downward, trickling downward
Its not a mirage
Drain
Drain
Bite
Bite
Bite
Cry
Smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller..........
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Triumph
Why am I full of joy although
It drizzles on the links?
Why am I buying Veuve Cliquot,
And setting up the drinks?
Why stand I like a prince amid
My pals and envy none?
Ye gods of golf! Today I did
A Hole in One.
I drove my ball to heaven high,
It over-topped the hill;
I tried to guess how it would lie,
If on the fairway still.
I climbed the rise, so sure I'd hit
It straight towards the green:
I looked and looked,--no trace of it
Was to be seen.
My partner putted to the pin,
Then hoarse I heard him call;
And lo! So snug the hole within
Gleamed up my ball.
Yea, it was mine. Oh what a thrill!
What dandy drive I'd done
By luck,--well, grant a little skill,
I'd holed in one.
Say that my score is eighty odd,
And though I won't give up,--
Say that as round the course I plod,
I never win a cup.
Say that my handicap's nineteen,
And of my game make fun,
But holler: 'On the seventh green
HE HOLED IN ONE.'
poem by Robert William Service
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Let's Have A Little Game
let us play
this small game
he that gives the smaller one
wins
i'll start
with a dog and you will have a cat
you win
and i will choose the flea in the cat
and then i win
we go into much smaller things
i'll have the bacteria and you choose
this virus
you win again
then i take the atom
you take the neutron
and i take a space of
emptiness
shall i win this time?
ok let's stop, let us try another one
something big, bigger and biggest
let us start with the size of our hearts
game.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Golf 'N' Me
Golf and me are not to be I’ve tried it many times,
I slipped I fell and heard folk yell and even hit a old brass bell
At hole’s I crossed when ball was lost
Then shortly after leaving Tee I let those pass who Tee long after me
While colleagues wait quiet patiently for me to find a perfect swing
And make the day worthwhile thing
Then suddenly success it’s been I find my swing and hit the green
A putters what you need right now until I seem to miss somehow
Again to find the missing ball oh why do I bother at all?
The driving range would sort me out or so the experts all would shout
Yet many balls I’d bash and hit just went their own way, not ahead
The many times I failed to hit a single net or hole or flag
Yes golf and me are not to be and now we all know why
So shoes that crimp and made me limp, the single glove and strange shape clubs
I waive them all goodbye!
Copyright © 2007 Ray Feasey
poem by Ray Feasey
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An Ageing Golfer's Dream
His great dream in his fifties is to emulate his son
Who was lucky enough to score a hole in one
Which is something in golf that is quite rare indeed
Where many do fail few can hope to succeed
A far better golfer than his son it is said
By those in the know who rate the ageing golfer ahead
Of anyone else in the local golf club
I only say here what I hear in the pub
From the local amateur golfers who enjoy their weekend game
Who play for the love of it not for the fame
As a golfer the young man in his twenties with his dad can't compare
For the father indeed is a far better player
But the father has yet to hit a hole in one
And on that score alone 'tis one up for the son.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Take A Bow!
When you're feeling way above 'par',
And your golf ball is travelling far,
With a 'birdie' to give you a start,
Golfing is an art.
When an 'eagle' soars high in the sky,
As within a deep 'bunker' you try,
To extricate neatly your ball,
Golfing is the call.
When your 'club' just doesn't impel
Your first 'shot' to go very well,
You can't always 'iron' out the fault,
Golfing is difficult.
Now the 'swing' that keeps the ball rolling,
Will need some careful controlling, .
But then down the 'fairway' it flies,
Golfing is exercise.
When you 'angle' your ball at the 'flag',
And you suddenly encounter a snag,
Once the ball goes straight in the 'hole',
Golfing is your goal.
If you're 'putting' well, out on the green,
And your 'stroke' is one worth being seen,
Then go on my friend, take a bow,
Golfing is a WOW!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Red BMX Bicycle
There was a small boy
In the countryside
Who had a small red BMX bicycle
Kept in the store besides the herbicides
Every evening like a cycle
He would ride down the dusty road
The sun a yellow ball
on the west side
Glittering under the sun`s rays
Was that small
RED BMX BICYCLE
There was a smaller boy
In the countryside
Who had nothing…
Totally nothing
He was a friend to the small boy
Every evening like a cycle
He would wait by the dusty road
To have a chance
On the small red BMX bicycle
His face would be all smiles
Even after falling off that
RED BMX BICYCLE
One day at dusk
The smaller boy
Stood next to the small boy
And asked
“When you grow up, would you give me this bike? ”
The small boy without thinking
Said YES..
There was a smaller boy
In the countryside
One night
He had a bad stomach ache
His mum wiping the tiny streams of tears
That fell from his small face
That was pale…
Due to dust from the dusty road
As he played with his the small boy
And rode on that
RED BMX BICYCLE
There was a small boy
In the countryside…
Now HE is all grown
And in the university
Far away in the city
That RED BMX BICYCLE
Now long gone
Given to some relative, I guess
If I could go back
To those days…
Those days with beautiful sunsets
Back in the countryside
Waiting for my chance
On my red BMX bicycle
Watching that smaller boy fall off
I would give him…
I would hand him that bicycle
And never expect it back
And watch him ride
Towards the beautiful sunset
On my red BMX bicycle
But if I can go back
All will be in vain
Because on that night…in the dark
He struggled with pain
His small heart couldn`t keep on
Outside there was rain
The gods possibly wanted to cleanse
All the evil that night
That took him away
Now I reminisce
As I keep moving on
About that smaller boy
And our small
RED BMX BICYCLE…
poem by Paul Oguda
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Smaller And Smaller
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
(p) Faith No More
< Mike Bordin: Drums; Roddy Bottum: Keyboards;
Billy Gould: Bass Guitar; Jim Martin: Guitar;
Mike Patton: Vocals >
( Angel Dust [Slash Records, 1992] )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Drought makes the workers dream
Muscles and fields of green
Shovel the last few crumbs
Of generosity
Open heart, open mind, open mouth, open vein
DRAIN
Someday the rains will come
My blistered hands tell me
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow
BITE
BITE
BITE
CRY
I'll keep coming back
smaller and smaller and smaller
squash me
smaller and smaller and smaller
under the charity
smaller and smaller and smaller
under the topsoil
smaller and smaller and smaller
under the fingernail
smaller and smaller and smaller
then small becomes all becomes all.......
BITE
BITE
BITE
CRY
It's not a mirage
It's not a mirage
trickling downward, trickling downward
It's not a mirage
DRAIN
DRAIN
BITE
BITE
BITE
CRY
smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller and smaller.......
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kick Off Ball
Kick off ball,
Kick the ball to win the game!
But, with fair play.
Player,
Lyricist,
Arranger,
Keeper,
Composer,
Winner! !
But it was only yesterday that i found you;
And like the game ball in the land of your muse.
Face to face,
Again and again!
But pay and take it;
And, play the match to win the game! !
Play the ball,
Kick the ball,
And like the African Cup of Nations!
Race, ace, face, brace, mace, place, lace;
But words are things upon a thought,
And like something long lost! !
However, play the ball into the net to win the game.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Golf Tees Lament
Golf tees on my dresser
Golf tees in my bed
Golf tees on my pillows
Where they poke me in my head
Golf tees in my closet
Falling from my shirts and pants
Golf tees along the baseboards
Just like army ants
Golf tees in the carpet
And underneath my feet
Golf tees lined up on the mantle
Oh, they look so neat
Golf tees in my couch
And in my back and thighs
When I sit and watch TV
I feel those little guys
Golf tees in the kitchen
In Jurassic coffee mugs
Sometimes when I pass them
They look like prehistoric bugs.
Golf tees in the bathtub
Like sailors on plastic ships
Golf tee in her make-up
Like little bald q-tips.
Golf tees in the attic
Golf tees in the shed
Golf tees, golf tees everywhere
I wonder where they bred?
Golf tees out the backdoor
Like Hansel-and-Gretel’s trails
Golf tees in the flowerbeds
Among the mulch and snails
Golf tees in my car
And underneath the mats
Golf tees in the backseat
Like little baseball bats
But when I am at the golf course
I ask my partner, like a louse…
“May I borrow some of your tees? ”
I left mine at the house!
poem by Larry Buddin
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I love to play golf, and that's my arena. And you can characterize it and describe it however you want, but I have a love and a passion for getting that ball in the hole and beating those guys.
quote by Tiger Woods
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are no maladies in my golf game. My golf game stinks.
quote by Jack Nicklaus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golf-Slow Torture by Handicap
Golf is such a silly game
The less you play it-The greater the fame
But not alas for your average punter
Who stalks the long grass, more like a hunter.
He really isn't playing at all
Half the time he's looking for his ball.
Head always moving(if not hanging in shame)
The ball stays still, so the players to blame.
As more and more strokes we amass
Mainly playing from the longest grass
Temper flaming and words quite blue!
Are you sure this is the game for you?
The just one shot, that you do not thin
And look! Your nearest the pin
Bringing the fame that you seek
Ensuring your return, and the dream
That you will do better - next week!!!
poem by Keith Oldrey
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Small Victories!
small minds, small dreams,
small prayers, small God.
small thoughts, small answers,
to questions not small!
playing the race game,
the salvation game,
the mine and yours game,
the right and wrong game.
like cattle herded
unknowingly to slaughter.
every body a ticket,
to pay the fare.
bigger picture, bigger concepts,
bigger than i and me!
bigger risk, bigger world,
bigger choices, small victories.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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