0382 Sportsman lacks ship
He's just won the tennis match;
walks up to the net,
shakes hands with his opponent
but his eyes don't follow
now they're off to the umpire's chair;
he reaches up, shakes hands
as if he's tipping the doorman,
eyes elsewhere
he may have won the match
but he's lost my vote.
At least politicians have the nerve
to look you in the eye.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sicker Soccer
The £10,000 a week defender can’t quite
catch the £20,000 striker who's got
the ball at his nimble, expensive feet, the stadium yelling
fit to raise the roof – what does he do? why,
he pulls the striker’s shirt, of course…; the ref, the commentators
remain silent. We, we were told off at nursery classes,
for pulling little Johnny’s shirt… I mean, for Pele’s sake,
what is this about? ! ..
then at the end of the game (one side’s got to win,
you’d think the fans are like they used to be,
paid good money to watch a good match)
the managers spit out their gum, pat each other on the back
whilst walking away, and not looking each other in the eye…
none of that love of the game stuff, the sparkling eyes
of those who love their sport, shaking hands
with a worthy opponent…ha…
and as for cricket – ‘sledging’ – can you believe it?
making sneery remarks to the batsmen while you stand in close…
never happened when sport was something you
enjoyed, loved to do, enjoyed the challenge and the company…
‘oh it’s all in good fun’… yeah?
tennis, being one-on-one, ain’t so bad; psych yourself up
but put the venom in your shots; but then,
when the match ends, run up to the net (or so they
used to) , eyes meet, shake hands, a few words? not
so often – shake hands without making
eye-contact, off to thank the umpire who's
up there out of reach…
it’s like some sorta natural law: when sport is a game
like life, the game’s the thing, and well-played, sir; pay
your ‘sportsmen’, your mercenaries, in the name
of ‘popular entertainment’ and big business, and
something disappears, as revenues increase;
how long before poetry becomes
a ‘spectator sport’ with a World Slam League out there
and TV rights?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I played Bobby Fischer, my opponent fought against organizations - the television producers and the match organizers. But he never fought against me personally. I lost to Bobby before the match because he was already stronger than I. He won normally.
quote by Boris Spassky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncertain match plays in the ground of Radiation!
The whole World is sick and in the Asylum
Patients were given the Tranquilizers!
And they watch the match with Doctor Confused!
Thank God! The Sea is calm and there won't be any Tsunami?
The head umpire is not certain whether the ball touched the bat
And it's an out?
He's requested the decision from the match Referee.
An Alien comes with a deep cry from a different Planet.
Doctor asked what can I do for you?
'I am a fortune teller' He replied.
'Oh! You came in the right time and is it out? '
'I am not sure.'
'Then who wins the match? '
'That's uncertain.'
'I have a hole in the heart since my childhood and it's very painful
Even the Tetanus scared to approach and finish this sad story.'
Doctor gave him a Morphine injection!
And all is quiet now, match goes on!
I too watch this entertaining game from infinity!
To all the Cricket fans in gratitude!
(Including my friend JVL.)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A coach can only teach.
A coach is not a match to his players.
Stamina matters.
A teacher cannot match his students;
Memory matters.
A preacher cannot match his disciples;
Staunchness matters.
A husband cannot match his cuckold;
Curiosity matters.
Can a ladder match the climber?
30.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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If you lived the doubles, as I did, which was very stressful, you are sitting down in a chair experiencing a match without being able to hold a racquet in your hands.
quote by Guy Forget
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tennis was never work for me, tennis was fun. And the tougher the battle and the longer the match, the more fun I had.
quote by Jimmy Connors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No, finito. Don't stay in the past. It's like playing tennis. If you win a match, you're not going to stay. You have to go to the next tournament. You're not going to come saying "I won the match, I'm the best." No, again on the courts and play. That's the life. It's like you. One article is not the same, so you have to write another one and another challenge. That's life.
quote by Jean Reno
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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When The Eyes Look At The Eyes
the room is crowded and the chairs are fully occupied
what i see are mouths
strange but i know sometimes how to
make an abstract,
sometimes i like to see the eyes as fishes
swimming and silvery
the eyelashes as waves
and retina
jellyfish, trying to cope up with the change of the seasons
blue to pale
peace to this entangled points of views
one day
i am caught unaware and i see eyes as eyes
and there is this meeting
that shakes my whole being
it is joy and i savor every minute of it
there is this smile that seem to last forever
and i look at it
for a very long time like i have known what eternity is
infatuation with youth
that must be that, i am melting before some feet
my hands wanting to reach for another set of hands
asking for help what to do with love
disappearing to the face of my small earth
thin air
i am breathing it i am breathing it mercilessly
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lost Boy Eyes
eyes of the lost boy
who's vision is unclear
eyes of the lost boy
who walks in fear
eyes of the lost boy
who's journey is not taken
eyes of the lost boy
who's soul is forsaken
eyes of the lost boy
who can never see again
eyes of the lost boy
who walks alone till' his end
poem by Chris Moreno
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Rose, Fall
Rose of many petals that fall at gentle touch,
you cannot match up to my love-who with touch does not fall
Rose of the green stem, who withers when is dry
you cannot match up to my love, who with age, never dries
Rose of thorny flaws, who pricks me at the lips
you cannot match up to my love, whos lips contain no thorns
Rose like any other rose, who with them does not stand out,
you cannot match up to my love, whose beauty stands outloud
Rose of limited colors, who can only bloom one tone
you cannot match up to my love, who blooms of every hue
Rose, who only appeals to eyes, to those who see its beauty
you cannot match up to my love, who appeals to every sense
Rose fall down, and bow to my love-she is the one with grace
Rose wither away to my love, whose beauty outlives yours
Rose turn 'way, when in presence to my love-
for she holds something you dont hold
and that is my steep love
poem by Afrodita Alkline
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Old Hands And Old Eyes....
old hands unbutton
the blouse of the day.
old hands make coffee,
open the dusty blinds.
old hands wash a few dishes,
make breakfast for the dogs...
old hands feed the stray cat,
make toast and wait.
old eyes caress the sunlight
as if an old friend.
old eyes see the work,
yet stop, to touch the morning.
old eyes kiss the trees,
the squirrels, and distant mountains.
old eyes ache with longing,
and amazement.
old hands and old eyes
begin the journey anew.
listening intently for the footfall,
for another candle, a hoe.
for the scent of nearness,
perhaps only remembered.
old hands and old eyes,
take the plow, the hammer,
and the nails....
old hands and old eyes,
waiting for love!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Follow Me, Always Follow Me
follow me. always follow me.
do not worry. Do not be afraid.
There is no reason for fear.
We have the north star
and the compass and we walk through the rain.
we have the sun to light our way.
oh.. it will be as bright as noonday. except for the sweat
and the swear, do not have doubts.... follow me... follow me... come..
i will teach you the way to be lost.
i will teach you how it feels to be lost and not finding the way.
i will give you meaning to your life. You need to be shaken like
the way the earth shakes itself when people are too comfortable in their
homes watching tv and having parties for their first born, for their wedding
anniversaries, for their feasts of success, , , ,
come follow me. I am lost but i have no fear.
Because you are with me. Because i trust you. And because i was once
was lost and found my way. Because I am strong. Because i will be
stronger with you now.
Because you love me. Because you too wants to be lost with me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Étude Réaliste (excerpts)
A baby's hands, like rosebuds furled
Whence yet no leaf expands,
Ope if you touch, though close upcurled,
A baby's hands.
Then, fast as warriors grip their brands
When battle's bolt is hurled,
They close, clenched hard like tightening bands.
No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled
Match, even in loveliest lands,
The sweetest flowers in all the world--
A baby's hands.
III
A baby's eyes, ere speech begin,
Ere lips learn words or sighs,
Bless all things bright enough to win
A baby's eyes.
Love, while the sweet thing laughs and lies,
And sleep flows out and in,
Sees perfect in them Paradise.
Their glance might cast out pain and sin,
Their speech make dumb the wise,
By mute glad godhead felt within
A baby's eyes.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Flora of the Eden: Antwerp
Eyes that sought my eyes, an-hungered, as a fire;
Hands that sought and caught my hands in their desire;
Hands and eyes that clipt and lipt me as a hungering fire!
But I turned away from your ecstatic eyes,
But my heart was silent to your eager sighs,
But I turned to other eyes from your imploring eyes.
Hands that I rejected, you were fain to give;
Eyes that for their moment loved me, as I live;
Mouth that kissed me: Flora of the Eden, O forgive!
poem by Arthur Symons
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You're Everything to Me
In your eyes I see the fire.
In your eyes I see desire.
When they're closed I cannot see
the eyes that mean so much to me.
In your hands I feel the love.
In your hands I rise above
all the things I've known.
Your hands have always made me moan.
Closer to you on every day,
your eyes and hands show me the way
that you will always love me
no matter where I will be.
There is no look I haven't seen.
There is no space that's in between
what I've felt in every touch
and every smile that meant so much,
For you're everything to me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Illusion
perfection has always been an optical
illusion
a manipulation of the lens
of life's eyes
hoping to see much better
all the details
wanting to match what all those
invisible ones are creating
when we go back to the touch of our hands
the trembling is perfect
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For Those Who Drift Just to Follow
Soon...
Closed eyes awaken,
As dawn breaks.
A replacement shakes up misunderstandings.
And all that 'was'...
Is erased.
Soon.
Tomorrow,
Like today...
Has gone away!
And will not be like yesterday.
Tomorrow has taken a leap.
And all who have 'chosen' to stay asleep...
Notice they are without shadows!
In a world that they've been bleeped.
Like a dream no one keeps.
If none were kept to seek!
And souls are lost!
As souls are lost,
For those who drift...
Just to follow with hollow beliefs!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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At Last I Found You
The one my soul has been searching for
The one with whom I want to spend my life
Holding hands gazing into your eyes
Consumed by the love we share
Embracing as the moon and stars
Bow their heads
To our heavenly match
I anticipate our first embrace
As you mould me to your chest
The twinkle in your eyes
Pure love and adoration
We each have sailed stormy seas
To come to port
You and I
poem by Persian Khushi
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Cant Shake Those Shakes
Blind in my one good eye
My mind just wont reply
Somethin? from way down south
Kinda formin? a dust in my mouth
Lookin? for a place to hide
Lookin? for a space to die
Rattlin? like an old tin can
Im cruisin? like a laundry van
Hot n? cold fever down to my knees
Wearin? out all of my rosary beads
Cant shake those shakes
Can? t shake those shakes no more
Cant shake those shakes
Feels like Im dyin? when Im already dead
Date with my medicine man
He got the remedies I understand
Gotta find the price to pay
Gonna send me on my way
Gotta desperate need, gotta feed the fire
I got a chemical love and a burned out desire
Cant shake those shakes
Cant shake those shakes no more
Cant shake those shakes, eels like Im dyin? when Im already dead, Im dead.
Dont care for sentiment, dont even pay my rent
Got enough bad habits to blame
Got enough of them to keep me sane
Losin? altitude in this neighborhood
Cant break the fall, though ii know that I should
Cant shake those shakes
(rankin/paul.....polygram songs)
Published by nazareth (dunfermline) ltd.
Copyright 1994 polydorgmbh, hamburg
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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ONE, TWO, THREE of LOVE
If there were only ONE song
Possessed of every note of choice
It could not match the music
Of the Lovesong in your voice
If there were only TWO stars
Owning all light of the skies
They could not match the brilliance
Of the Lovelight in your eyes
If there were only THREE words
That your own ears ever knew
May they proceed from my lips
As I whisper “ I Love You, ”
poem by Mary Havran
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