Do you know what happens when you slice a golf ball in half Someone gets mad at you. I found this out the hard way.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Golf Ball and the Loan
[After Longfellow.]
I drove a golf-ball into the air;
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I lent five shillings to some men,
They spent it all, I know not when,
For who is quick enough to know
The time in which a crown may go?
Long, long afterward, in a whin
I found the golf-ball, black as sin;
But the five shillings are missing still!
They haven't turned up, and I doubt if they will.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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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 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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IT's THE GOLF BALL OR ME
TIGER TIGER IN THE WOODS
Hit the ball as U should
Ere the Golf Stick skidded
And U in the Woods ended
Tiger Tiger your fame spread far and wide
Many a wallop in joy you with your family cried
Alas your 'misses' your family dread
And many a tear dropp you dead
Tiger Tiger in the Woods the time has come
When Your Wife has given you ultimatum
It's either me or GOLF you choose
And mend your ways or both your loose
'On my terms' if U want the kids and me
Coz I love you so much honey
I am not to touch the GOLF BALL
NOT for LOVE or for MONEY....
TIGER TIGER IN THE WOODS.
poem by Intensive KS1
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If you think it's hard to meet new people, try picking up the wrong golf ball.
quote by Jack Lemmon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Me Passing By
i saw golf-ball in water
deep as my cup of wine
sign of impact still visible
thread of cloud; a crater
that was a cruel slice
thirty yards from fairway
i keep on walking watching
stray shots from sky, wary
geese with their curious eyes
honks and march far; in flock
sailboats are at bay waiting
for weekend or maybe porting
poem by Manonton Dalan
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Birdie on the Seventh Hole, Shoot like a Pro
John Henry (Tripp) Isenhour III is a real jerk,
He was at the Grand Cypress Golf course,
Where he had been taping a television when there was a sound,
Not a “Fore”,
not car,
not a cow
or a horse,
Tripp was furious,
-no, not Linda Tripp,
he had to silence the source.
It was a red-shouldered hawk got Tripp upset when he had to do another take.
Tripp waited and waited for right shot to silence the squawking bird.
Tripp drove the golf ball 75 yards to the birdie.
The hawk was silent; the golf ball struck its mark,
The blood from the bird’s nostrils did not make the killing fake.
Usually birds are killed with baseballs or M1 Abrams Tanks,
(see Observation Farewell to Feathers) ,
But this was feat that was terrible for the red shouldered hawk,
and later Tripp,
Because the hawk is a protected species.
Tripp was arrested and faces 2 years and $1,500 in fines,
I hope he is found guilty and gets the maximum sentence.
Enough time for him to finish his subject on Man’s Endangerment t to Wildlife thesis.
(3-7-2008)
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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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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041811N next time
i feel bad hitting branch
with my errant golf ball
it broke it off and fall
i pick up, large as thumb
there's lot of power behind
that flying ball, i imagine
it could be weight of cones
that contributes to breaking
then i thought; gardener who
died who got hit by errant ball
i have lethal weapon at hand
i must be, must be very careful
poem by Manonton Dalan
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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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I tried real hard to play golf, and I was so bad at it they would have to check me for ticks at the end of the round because I'd spent about half the day in the woods.
quote by Jeff Foxworthy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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031010 Green Moments
i'm almost kneeling to the green
tracing the undulation and grain
i set my ball and look one more
from four sides and with prayer
did a couple of practice swing
got the tempo and putt went in
roll is when you hold your breathe
in silence talking to your ball begging
to break to follow follow path to cup
as tension builds up inside of me
so focus, it's me and my golf ball
nobody else, then yess...growwl(silent)
poem by Manonton Dalan
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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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I Have Taken Your Slice Of Bread
i have taken your slice of bread
from the table
it is for you
as i have already eaten mine
early
this morning
forgive me
i have learned
to eat more
and took
without so much
thinking
your share
the slice of bread
one half bigger
than mine
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I can't hit a ball more than 200 yards. I have no butt. You need a butt if you're going to hit a golf ball.
quote by Dennis Quaid
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A poor caddy who goes behind the Masters
The skinny dreamer strike the ball and it's landed on the Horizon.
But they are not ready to grant him the championship until he brings back the lost ball.
Oh! The voiceless stampede Golf ground cried alone
And he collected the tears in the dawn.
Dedication to all those who touch the grass for solace.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Hit the ball pretty solid. Haven't played a lot of golf this year, so was really unsure of what it would be like. I've been playing pretty well lately, especially hitting the ball solid.
quote by Trent Dilfer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Valley Every Man Wants
Trumpets blow so hard
They shatter the drums
In my head. God
Damn those bloody
Sounds that scream
And moan like secrets
Worth not repeating.
And the horses run
Down that worn out path,
But still they can’t find any
Water. It’s all dried
Up in the valley of
Roses and thorns, thanks
To this golf ball tumor.
poem by Lyndee Michelle
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The majority of people who buy homes in golf course communities don't play golf. Golf is way down at the bottom in terms of total numbers and growth.
quote by Ed McMahon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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