The Golf Walk
Behold, my child, this touching scene,
The golfer on the golfing-green;
Pray mark his legs’ uncanny swing,
The golf-walk is a gruesome thing!
See how his arms and shoulders ride
Above his legs in haughty pride,
While over bunker, hill and lawn
His feet, relentless, drag him on.
And does the man walk always so?
Nay! nay I my child, and eke, oh! no!
It is a gait he only knows
When he has on his golfing clothes.
Blame not the man for that strange stride
He could not help it if he tried;
It is his timid feet that try
From his obstreperous clothes to fly.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tiger Woods
He is many times over a multi millionaire
And arguably the World's greatest ever golf player
The golfer most young golfers would love to emulate
The legendary sports star and a golfing great
'Tis true Tiger Woods is the golfer to beat
In every golf tournament in which he compete
For many years now the World's number one
So many golf majors the great champ has won
The golfer who has proved himself in every test
That's why by so many he is rated as the best
Professional golfer in the World of today
By millions beyond the borders of the U S of A
The World's number one golfer for many years now
Though to the father of time he eventually must bow.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
25 Miles
Twenty-five miles from home, girl
My feet are hurtin mighty bad
Now Ive been walkin for three days
And two lonely nights
You know that Im mighty bad
But I got a girl waitin for me
Thats gonna make this trip worthwhile
You see, shes got the kind
Of lovin and kissin
Make a boy go stone wild
I got to keep on walkin
Oh I got to walk on
Let me tell you, yall
Im so tired
But I just cant lose my stride
I got fifteen miles to go now
And I can hear my baby callin my name
Its as if, as though
Im standin at her front door
And I can hear that doggone thing
Now Ill be so glad to see my baby
And hold her in my arms one more time
And when I kiss her lips
I turn backward flip
And I forget about these feet of mine
I got to keep on walkin
Oh I got to walk on
Let me tell you, yall
Im so tired
But I just cant lose my stride
Yeah I got to walk on
Let me tell you, yall
Hope my feet dont fail me now
I got five more miles to go
I got nine, eight, seven
Six, oh six
I got five more miles to go now
Over the hills just around the bend
Although my feet are tired
I cant lose my stride
I got to get my baby back again
I got to keep on walkin
I got to walk on
Let me tell yall
Im so tired now
But I just cant lose my stride
Oh, I got to walk on
Let me tell you now
Im so tired
But I just cant lose my stride
I got to walk on
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Worship Your Feet
You want a diamond and gold shaped locket
And a fat share of my dollar sized pocket
I beg, I beg
Watch those legs
The soles of your feet
Need a comfortable seat
Uncomfortable shoes will make you retreat
And you will walk the path of shameless defeat
For the city of Paris has no definition
Once I would have merely given it a distinction
I beg, I beg
Give those legs meaning
Walk as if you are winning
Foisting of competition
Searching for my name
For the game is walk with no shame
You want to be superstar
And get the chance to drive super-fast cars
I beg, I beg
Watch those legs
For the city of London has no obvious ignition
Blocks of high-rise buildings are its recognition
If my feet walk off the ground
Will my soul stay quietly spell bound?
For there is a certain silence without sound
When that ever-lasting peace is well-found
You want a cold beer
And live your life as if you don't care
Worship your feet
When you walk on the street!
Worship your feet
In the rough cold and the heat!
On your marks - Take off!
Worship your feet as you worship your tits!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On The Tiger Woods Affair
In the sporting World his is the most photographed face
And in golf he is the one who does take pride of place
His marriage in trouble not an unusual case
But he is not the first male to have fallen from grace.
The man with many mistresses in his life
Tiger Woods the World's number one golfer unfaithful to his wife
But before rushing to condemn him it may be best to recall
That all humans are flawed and he's human after all.
Known throughout the World in every village, city and town
To be a marvellous golfer his claim to renown
A golfing billionaire millions his praises do sing
And that women should fall for him a natural thing.
People created their false image of him as one morally clean
But he is only human you know what I mean
When beautiful young women offer themselves to you it is hard to say no
That all humans make mistakes is something we all know.
Tiger Woods the World's number one golfer is not a public foe
And like everyone else he deserves a fair go
The marriage infidelities of many famous people by the media made known
But peoples personal lives should remain as their own.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blue Highway
Show my dear friends
Its to put your hands
I ought to start this here
Rain for a day glow
But when you wants to boy so
And I wake up in the usa
Oh you know were gonna ride
On a blue highway
Walk with the legs youre blind
On a blue highway
Wave hellow to pride
On my highway
Yes I almost died
On a blue highway
Oh some sweet mask
Or its kind of a bitter risk
Out to ride the night
Oh sisters so hip too
I hear you and I miss you
Co-starring in the usa
Oh you know were gonna ride
On a blue highway
Walk with the legs youre blind
On a blue highway
Wave hellow to pride
On my highway
Yes I almost died
On a blue highway
Why do I miss you
Why did I kiss you
Because
Oh you know were gonna ride
On a blue highway
Walk with the legs youre blind
On a blue highway
Wave hellow to pride
On my highway
Yes I almost died
So glad that youre living now
Im glad that youre here
Im glad that you wanna stay
Because
You know were gonna ride
On a blue highway
Walk with the legs youre blind
On a blue highway
Wave hellow to pride
On my highway
Yes I almost died
On a blue highway
On a blue highway
Wings and well wind the love
Yes theres a time a time for love
Then you kissed me
On a blue highway
Why do I miss you
Why did I kiss you
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I have a story that’ll
I have a story that’ll
bury Tiger Woods
under 6 feet of sand.
It’s the wishful thinking
of any golfer
to eagle their balls
in Alice’s hole.
But I wonder if anybody
wants their balls
to shrink fast enough
in the time they fly
from the golfing club
to birdie Wonderland.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Apr©2010
AD Something
poem by Alex Nodopaka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Birds and the Above
What is their grade, who sing to the above?
Their legs can not carry their bodies,
For they are inferior, they are inferior.
Legs are too much for those who walk,
Yet the hands are meaning too much.
You are superior, and you are amazing -
It is a man who walks and talks that inspires,
Yet feeble people do not seem wrong
To the caring ones, the ones who care.
Care must be given to you,
As the hospital will fetch you
If hands and feet are allowed.
As you are like a bird,
Birds are like you, for you fly.
With wings you are not,
But hands and feet.
You walk and yet fly,
Yet wings are not feet
For the birds.
What is their grade, who sing to the above?
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Just A Day
doo doodoo doo...
Waking up at twelve in my clothes again
Feel my head explode from a night of gin
Another night out late
I don't want to drink, don't want to be a clown
I got to get my feet back on the ground
Before it pulls me in
How come it ended up like this
And who's gonna catch me when I'm coming down to hit the ground
again
All by myself(waking up at twelve in my clothes again)
Cause I don't want to drag you down hold you down
Cause you're a friend, I blame myself(feel my head explode from a night of gin)
I guess you think it's funny now, funny now
On the underground with the freaks and frowns
Looking at the world through silver clouds
But then it all came down
I've got to rise above the emotional flood
I've got to cut these ropes around my hands
Pull myself around
How come it ended up like this
And who's gonna be there when I've lost control I'm heading to crashland
All by myself(waking up at twelve in m clothes again)
Cause I don't want to drag you down hold you down
Cause you're a friend, I blame myself(feel my head explode from a night of gin)
I guess you think it's funny now, funny now
All by myself, cause I don't want to drag you down,
Hold you down cause you're a friend. I blame myself
I guess you think it's funny now, funny now, it's such a shame
All by myself(waking up at twelve in my clothes again)
Cause I don't want to drag you down hold you down
Cause you're a friend, I blame myself(feel my head explode from a night of gin)
I guess you think it's funny now, funny now, it's such a sin
All by myself(waking up at twelve in my clothes again)
Cause I don't want to drag you down hold you down
Cause you're a friend, I blame myself(feel my head explode in a night of gin)
I guess you think it's funny now, funny now
doo doodoo doo(x7)
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Am A Wicked Child
Mother mary come to me
Cause I am a wicked child
I have sinned and I am so confused and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
I am the devils son and I wish I could be good for you
I walk a crooked mile
but I wish I could be good
I wish I could be good
If I could have kept the straight and narrow
If I could have kept the straight and narrow
And not have broke your heart
Not have broke your heart
Now I wake up in the night
Lying on my bed
It's tugging at my arms and legs
Like I was a marionette
Send baby Jesus
Surely it is time
Send baby jesus
Let him radiate his light
Radiate his light
lyrics from 24-03-2000 webcast:
I am the devils son and I wish I could be good for you
broke your heartwicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
because I am a wicked child
and I deserve to go to hell
and I am a wicked child
I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child & I am a wicked child
and I am a wicked child
I am a..
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Knocked And Ran
He, on a road, was standing
Ignorant of the road-laws.
He was in his tattered clothes;
A poor village child he was.
I was sitting in a car
On the left of the driver.
When the car came near the child,
It was slowed by the driver.
He sounded aloud the horn,
But the child did not it care.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
Remained standing mutely there.
He was aping the gesture
Of the driver of the car.
How joyful in his action,
As if he were in the car!
He was moving round his arms
In driving his unreal car.
The driver, taking the side,
Safely steered his real car.
But a truck from the front side
Down the road speedily ran.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
The truck driver knocked and ran.
poem by Aziz Ahmad
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Knocked And Ran
He, on a road, was standing
Ignorant of the road-laws.
He was in his tattered clothes;
A poor village child he was.
I was sitting in a car
On the left of the driver.
When the car came near the child,
It was slowed by the driver.
He sounded aloud the horn,
But the child did not it care.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
Remained standing mutely there.
He was aping the gesture
Of the driver of the car.
How joyful in his action,
As if he were in the car!
He was moving round his arms
In driving his unreal car.
The driver, taking the side,
Safely steered his real car.
But a truck from the front side
Down the road speedily ran.
The child, in his tattered clothes,
The truck driver knocked and ran.
poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Let a child smile
Let a child blissfully grow,
Don’t try and obstruct his natural flow.
Let a child sleep,
Don’t try and break his dreams.
Let a child run,
Don’t try and smack his ear-drum.
Let a child confidently walk,
Don’t try and lure him with your talk.
Let a child create,
Don’t try and teach him to hate.
Let a child be innocent,
Don’t try and show him the art of disguise.
Let a child be naughty,
Don’t try and instruct him to be haughty.
Let a child play,
Don’t try and intentionally spoil his day.
Let a child make mistakes,
Don’t try and show him the stick.
Let a child roam in Sunlight,
Don’t try and hide him from the bright.
Let a child express his thoughts,
Don’t try and be a mental block.
And let a child prosper and SMILE,
Don’t try and expose him to worldly guiles.
poem by Nikhil Parekh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Who Will Cry?
Who will cry for the little child who goes for days without food?
Who will cry for the little child who parents beat them?
Who will cry for the little child who is mistreated for being different?
Who will cry for the little child who goes unloved?
Who will cry for the little child whose stomach is swelled up?
Who will cry for the little child who doesn't have clothes to wear?
Who will cry for the little child who is shunned for not being popular?
Who will cry for the little child who is molested every night?
Who will cry for the little child who's parents are not around?
Who will cry for the little child who has to take care of his self?
Who will cry?
Will you cry?
Cause I have.
poem by Natasha Ligons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hot Legs
(rod stewart)
Whos that knocking on my door
Its gotta be a quarter to four
Is it you again coming round for more
Well you can love me tonight if you want
But in the morning make sure youre gone
Im talkin to you
Hot legs, wearing me out
Hot legs, you can scream and shout
Hot legs, are you still in school
I love you honey
Gotta most persuasive tongue
You promise all kinds of fun
But what you dont understand
Im a working man
Gonna need a shot of vitamin e
By the time youre finished with me
Im talking to you
Hot legs, youre an alley cat
Hot legs, you scratch my back
Hot legs, bring your mother too
I love you honey
Imagine how my daddy felt
In your jet black suspender belt
Seventeen years old
Hes touching sixty four
You got legs right up to your neck
Youre making me a physical wreck
Im talking to you
Hot legs, in your satin shoes
Hot legs, are you still in school
Hot legs, youre making me a fool
I love you honey
Hot legs, making your mark
Hot legs, keep my pencil sharp
Hot legs, keep your hands to yourself
I love you honey
Hot legs, youre wearing me out
Hot legs, you can scream and shout
Hot legs, youre still in school
I love you honey
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Bridge To Sunset
The bridge to sunset
Is located inside a beautiful golf course
And the man I know goes golfing every weekend
With his friends
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Morning in the Burned House
In the burned house I am eating breakfast.
You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast,
yet here I am.
The spoon which was melted scrapes against
the bowl which was melted also.
No one else is around.
Where have they gone to, brother and sister,
mother and father? Off along the shore,
perhaps. Their clothes are still on the hangers,
their dishes piled beside the sink,
which is beside the woodstove
with its grate and sooty kettle,
every detail clear,
tin cup and rippled mirror.
The day is bright and songless,
the lake is blue, the forest watchful.
In the east a bank of cloud
rises up silently like dark bread.
I can see the swirls in the oilcloth,
I can see the flaws in the glass,
those flares where the sun hits them.
I can't see my own arms and legs
or know if this is a trap or blessing,
finding myself back here, where everything
in this house has long been over,
kettle and mirror, spoon and bowl,
including my own body,
including the body I had then,
including the body I have now
as I sit at this morning table, alone and happy,
bare child's feet on the scorched floorboards
(I can almost see)
in my burning clothes, the thin green shorts
and grubby yellow T-shirt
holding my cindery, non-existent,
radiant flesh. Incandescent.
poem by Margaret Atwood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Still I Walk
I walk this road alone, I fear
Route unknown but my end is clear
Still I walk with determined stride
No place to rest, no stars to guide
Another fork, more twists and turns
Each fork a test and lessons learned
Still I walk, thru sheer strength and will
Though my journey lies all uphill
How queer it is, this path I take
My shoes are worn, my feet do ache
Still I walk with unchanging gait
To meet the end, we all call fate
We all share such similar paths
To all an end by nature's wrath
Still I walk with unyeilding grit
Hope guides me, never shall I quit
From start to finish, from womb to rest
Cherish the Journey, for we all are blessed
First I Look At The Purse
(william robinson/robert rogers)
Some fellows look at the eyes
Some fellows look at the nose
Some fellows look at the size
Some fellows look at the clothes
I dont care if her eyes are red
I dont care if her nose is long
I dont care if shes underfeed
I dont care if her clothes are wrong
First I look at the purse.
Some fellows like the smiles they wear
Some fellows like the legs that talk
Some fellows like the style of their hair,
They want the waist line to be small.
I dont care if their legs all vein
I dont care if their teeth are big
I dont care if she wears a ring
Why waste time looking at the waist line
Cause first I look at the purse....yeah!
A woman can be as fine as can be
Kisses sweeter than honey
That dont mean a thing to me,
If you aint got no money, baby.
Cause if the purse is fat, thats where its at. yeahaa...
Some fellows like the way they walk,
The way they swing and sway.
Some fellows like the way they talk,
If they can talk talk all day.
I dont care if she waddles like a duck or talks with a lisp
I still think Im in good luck if the dollar bills are crisp
Cause first I look at the purse....yeah yeah
Keep an eye on the money
Womans got to have some fine greenbacks hah
I aint greedy guys,
Oh I dont wanna work no more
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!