Hitting Ali in the body or on the arms was like hitting a piece of cement.
quote by Ken Norton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Riding With Cats Eyes Nine Lives
riding with cats eyes nine lives
riding in dark or moonlight
riding in cloud shadow or rain
riding with a lucky stars roll
riding at speed in night magic
hitting judder bars in darkness
hitting judder bars hard fast
hitting judder bars all alone
hitting judder bars straight on
hitting judder bars at speed
is heightened airborne rush
is riding racing death in night
is riding in night fed wonder
is heightened seconds flying
is ready road rocket launch pad
poem by Terence George Craddock
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It's not hard. When I'm not hitting, I don't hit nobody. But when I'm hitting, I hit anybody.
quote by Willie Mays
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hitting a baseball well, as in cricket, is a very rare skill. One of most difficult things to do in the world to do, hitting a ball coming at you at ninety miles an hour with a round bat. Wonderful to watch.
quote by Peter Tork
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Storm...
i remember
i did not stop the car
as i brace myself
for the well announced
storm
large drops of rain
hitting the windshield
there is no
road visible
lightning and thunder
hitting the trees
with a flash of
ghostly images
i was always
ready
i had no one
and no one
had me....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When I'm not hitting, I don't hit nobody. But, when I'm hitting, I hit anybody.
quote by Willie Mays
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I never blame myself when I'm not hitting. I just blame the bat and if it keeps up, I change bats. After all, if I know it isn't my fault that I'm not hitting, how can I get mad at myself?
quote by Yogi Berra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I never blame myself when I'm not hitting. I just blame the bat and if it keeps up, I change bats. After all, if I know it isn't my fault that I'm not hitting, how can I get mad at myself
quote by Yogi Berra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yeah, she was hitting me hard. She was drunk and she was hitting me hard.
quote by David Gest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Belief In The Hitting Of Bricks
Believe nothing.
Especially if,
A repeated running into a brick wall...
Has yet to cement its purpose.
But then again...
Maybe this has become the addiction needed,
That one pretends prevents head trips.
And a belief in the hitting of bricks,
Numbs the facing of real issues.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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There is hard hitting, but the hitting is not nearly as hard as it used to be.
Bouts With Hard Knocks
I wish I did awaken to become intelligent and wise.
As if a crawling on my knees and facing emotional turmoil,
Would have been prevented.
And those experiences did not attached themselves,
To a mind in a head addicted to hitting against walls.
Or fists hitting up against bricks,
And having bouts with hard knocks.
If 'only' I knew I was intelligent and wise,
My life would have been a lot easier.
And I would not have been left so scarred...
Damaged and a bit bruised,
But on the road to recovery with patience and years...
Under my belt.
Or in my head!
Wherever that patience I keep treasured is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Echoing Sounds Of The Ocean Waves
I LISTEN TO THE ECHOING SOUNDS
OF THE OCEAN WAVES HITTING THE SHORE
AND THE SEAGULS FLYING DOWN
TRYING TO CATCH MORE
WHILE MOUNTAINS SEEM SO FAR
AND THE PEOPLE ON THERE SAIL BOATS WAVING
NOT KNOWING WHO YOU ARE
AND TIME DON'T MOVE THE HOURS STAND STILL
WHEN YOUR OUT IN THE OCEAN ENJOYING THE AIR
NOW THE SWEET BREEZE RUFFLES YOUR HAIR
BUT YOU DON'T CARE
YOUR JUST LETTING YOUR SELF BE FREE
JUST LISTENING TO ECHOING SOUNDS
OF THE OCEAN WAVES HITTING THE SHORE
poem by Bruce Martone
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As the Caretakers of 'Your' Interests
Ladies and gentlemen...
It has come to our attention,
Many of you are homeless and starving.
And those of you who are not...
Are close to those experiences.
However...
We wish to inform you,
As the caretakers of 'your' interests...
And well being,
We...
Those you have elected to keep you,
From hitting rock bottom and hitting brick walls...
Are doing our utmost best to impress you,
With the acknowledgement...
That our concerns are 'your' concerns.
And...
Rest assured,
We are 'not' just maintaining those impressions!
But,
We are also...
Spending sleepless hours,
Ensuring our imitation of leaders...
Best represent your expectations!
So until further notice...
Please allow our performances to continue,
With your endorsements.
That alone,
Will help us succeed in keeping your beliefs alive.
Keep in mind...
None of this would exist without your support.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Pain Is Just To Real
The pain is just to real.
There’s a tear somewhere deep within me.
Pulling at me, reaching up, seizing me.
The pain is just to real.
It bursts white hot scorching my insides.
Prying me open, ripping inside me.
The pain is just to real.
Needles hitting over and over again.
A cry of fear burst through my mouth.
The pain is just to real.
I hear the thud each time the pain comes.
It’s excruciating, I can’t take this much longer.
The pain is just to real.
I clutch my chest I can’t seem to breathe.
It’s killing me.
The pain is just to real.
Something’s shattering inside me.
It’s hitting every piece of flesh within me.
The pain is just to real.
White hot pain explodes in my chest.
Thud, Thud, pain pulses through my veins.
The pain is just to real.
My muscles begin to twitch.
Clutching my chest I think I see lights.
The pain is just to real.
My vision goes blurry.
I’m coming short of breath.
The pain is just to real.
With one gasping breathe I realize what’s happening.
My heart is shattering..
poem by Krystal Allison
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I was asleep, in the upstairs bedroom, in the rear of the house. There was this tremendous crash, there was a terrible wind force hitting my body, and then I blanked out.
quote by Larry Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long Journey Ahead
Blinking at the bright light, I thought
“I’m all set for a long trip! I must!
Through many unfamiliar routs”
“I might have done it before! But
I lost my past at my last horizon
Which I left by accepting a covenant
Of oblivion, before reaching this zone”
Ending my musings, I gazed forward
To find two pairs of cool eyes looking into mine
From two masked persons with Steel blades
Bleeding in their hands! What a bad reception? !
Shocked, I remained in timid quietude
Then came an unexpected knock on my back
Someone has started hitting me, first with some heed
Then started speeding up, with sounds like
Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud
I wanted to say, “Hey! Stop it! You freak!
My mumbled lips produced no sound
The hitting continued; with brisk strokes
This time on my belly as well
I felt vulnerable and weak
I wanted to weep; get out of this hell
I tried once again; this time with a crack
With full force I expelled, a shrilling yell
Now the hitting’ as slowed down to a somewhat
Systematic patting; to a more measured rhythm
Heartened; I shrieked again; with full throat
Louder and louder, hysterical, up to the acme
The hitting did cease, all abrupt
After a minute of silence I heard
My captors shouting with delight
“The baby has cried! The baby has cried! !
poem by Sathya Narayana
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On A Day Like This
Circumstances hitting hard
Economic and social woes
Breathing down my back
Nowhere to look
Nowhere to turn
Feeling spurned
On a day like this
Cannot lose my sanity
Over necessity
Have to keep pressing
Looking ahead
Remembering
Dread times never last
It's just a monkey on my head
On a day like this
Roast a potato or a piece of yam
Ask Uncle Joe for a pound of fish
Give God thanks
It could be worse
On a day like this
2010
poem by Buxton Shippy
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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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Good-Bye Forever
time slowly passes,
and I just sit and wait for something to happen,
and yet nothing,
all I hear is the second hand ticking and rain drops hitting the ground,
but as I go look outside to see this rain,
I notice it isn't rain at all it's my tears hitting the wooden desk,
no one knows,
and no one sees the truth that lies within,
to you I'm just a little kid but to my family I'm stronger,
but yet to myself deep within I'm weak,
I fall short,
I have and am nothing,
if only you knew me well,
to you I'm just that little girl you walked out on,
oh, so many years ago,
but now, now I've grown,
words hurt yes but actions speak louder than words,
when you left it hurt but now it hurts a little more but yet a little less,
I want my dad but I don't want the pain I once went through,
but I can't expect you to remember the tears I shed over you,
for you just hid within your lies,
but now I know I'm bigger than that,
and your weakness is my strength,
good luck without a single piece of happiness,
I never want to see you again,
I just need my family in which you'll never be a part of,
not now not ever,
I did love you yes,
but no more,
looking into those cold black eyes I only see hate and pain,
I feel bad for you,
you'll never know love like I do,
never know what you've done and how much it hurts me,
I hate this,
I hate you,
I hate everything about you,
but yet I love you,
not because your my father,
but because your my brother in God's family,
God put you here for a reason,
though at times I question it I'm thankful,
my blood brothers mean so much to me,
and I love them,
now and forever more,
something you'll never know,
I'm tired of it,
so good-bye forever,
and I hope I never see you again.
poem by Katherine Bryce
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Tendulkar's 100th Ton
My father gave a chocolate
when I walked hundred steps
In eighth standard, in maths
I got hundred out of hundred.
The hundred meant me more
When I watched Tendulkar,
hitting his hundredth century
after previous, waiting almost a year.
Delighted every spectator
watching the great cricketer,
either in the ground or television
hitting historic hundredth ton.
Since last ton hit in March last
waited eagerly every fan and sportsman
March 16 of twelve was set
to witness that great moment.
Every one was waiting fully excited
date would go down in history of cricket
Tendulkar would score hundredth hundred
setting the milestone of achievement
(C) S D Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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