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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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
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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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No other game combines the wonder of nature with the discipline of sport in such carefully planned ways. A great golf course both frees and challenges a golfer's mind.
quote by Tom Watson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The City of Golf
Would you like to see a city given over,
Soul and body, to a tyrannising game?
If you would, there's little need to be a rover,
For St. Andrews is the abject city's name.
It is surely quite superfluous to mention,
To a person who has been here half an hour,
That Golf is what engrosses the attention
Of the people, with an all-absorbing power.
Rich and poor alike are smitten with the fever;
Their business and religion is to play;
And a man is scarcely deemed a true believer,
Unless he goes at least a round a day.
The city boasts an old and learned college,
Where you'd think the leading industry was Greek;
Even there the favoured instruments of knowledge
Are a driver and a putter and a cleek.
All the natives and the residents are patrons
Of this royal, ancient, irritating sport;
All the old men, all the young men, maids and matrons --
The universal populace, in short.
In the morning, when the feeble light grows stronger,
You may see the players going out in shoals;
And when night forbids their playing any longer,
They tell you how they did the different holes.
Golf, golf, golf -- is all the story!
In despair my overburdened spirit sinks,
Till I wish that every golfer was in glory,
And I pray the sea may overflow the links.
One slender, struggling ray of consolation
Sustains me, very feeble though it be:
There are two who still escape infatuation,
My friend M'Foozle's one, the other's me.
As I write the words, M'Foozle enters blushing,
With a brassy and an iron in his hand ....
This blow, so unexpected and so crushing,
Is more than I am able to withstand.
So now it but remains for me to die, sir.
Stay! There is another course I may pursue --
And perhaps upon the whole it would be wiser --
I will yield to fate and be a golfer too!
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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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
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You're Up Chuck
Chuck had gone to a medium
To communicate with the dead.
No particular one had come
To mind to talk to, but instead,
Chuck, an avid golfer, did want
To find out if he could still play
Golf, after he'd gone on to haunt.
The medium had this to say,
'Good news, bad news. The good news is
'A great course is waiting for you, '
'To hone your skills as a golf whiz.'
'Hit those shots eternally true.'
'The bad news is that you are due'
'To tee off this Monday at 2.'
And if you're a golfer and you watch a golf film and Matt Damon swing, and it's not great, then you're not going to believe in the golf story, you're not going to believe in the rest of the film. That's the whole movie, so if that swing looks like crap, the movie's crap.
quote by Shia LaBeouf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy Golf requires goofy pants and a fat ass. You should talk to my neighbor the accountant. Probably a great golfer. Huge ass.
quote by Happy Gilmore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young David The Under Fourteen
With the local football club he plays under fourteen
In their football colours the black, brown and green
He dreams in the A F L he will star one day
Against Australia's finest he will be picked to play.
Everytime I see young David he's with the egg shaped ball
Playing by himself or with other boys in the park for his age he is tall
His dream is to play as number one ruckman for his favourite team Geelong
Enjoying a great victory as he sings the Club song.
Most boys of his age have a wish or a dream
To win a gold medal or play with a top football team
But not all dreams do come true everyone can't know fame
Still it is nice to dream of great things just the same.
He is the top ruckboy in his football team
And as a player of promise he knows local esteem
But few good juvenile players into great players grow
And young David he still has a long way to go.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Supreme Court ruled that disabled golfer Casey Martin has a legal right to ride in a golf cart between shots at PGA Tour events. Man, the next thing you know, they're going to have some guy carry his clubs around for him.
quote by Jon Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Know Him Only As My Neighbour
I know him only as my neighbour and though I see him most every day
For each of us a struggle for to find words for to say
Whenever we come face to face in the park or on the street
'Tis just a hello in passing we don't chat when we meet
The captain of the local golf club similar friends we do not share
For to be elected captain he has to be a good golf player
In local sporting circles he is one quite well known
Like I say we share little in common but then to each their own
Amongst those who share similar interests the bond of friendship does grow
Those who think alike us we wish to get to know
I do see and meet him often though not every day
And a hello in passing is all we have to say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Whiff
If you can keep your head when all about you
are losing balls and blaming it on fate
If you can trust the swing your partner doesn't rate
but make allowance for their whingeing too
If you can wait and not be tired of waiting
or stymied by bad breaks don't blame the lie
or being baited, don't give way to baiting
and yet never give up and always try
If you can treat that birdie and the bogey
with equal grace and don't excite the heart
or play Adonis or rank and file old fogey
and live the role and act the part
then all golf's splendour will surely come
and what's more you'll be a golfer my son
poem by Kris Viscardini
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You must work very hard to become a natural golfer.
quote by Gary Player
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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In Sports As In Life
The town decorated in the colours of the local football club for the weekend's big game
Suppose in sports as in life it is all about winning and fame
The local footballers are playing for renown
For the fans and love of self glory and love of the Hometown
And for love of the club colours they proudly do wear
The very thought of losing even seems hard to bear
To the uninterested 'tis just another game of football
But in sports as in life the winners seem to take all
Of the admiration and fame and of singing their praises their fans never tire
And even gallant losers so few seem to admire
To be graceful in defeat to little does amount
In sports as in life only winners seem to count
At the weekend they play for the trophy and their self glory and sporting renown
And for their sporting succes hungry fans and for love of their Hometown.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Only one golfer in a thousand grips the club lightly enough.
quote by Johnny Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Feels The Time Is Ripe
Where many do live for local renown
The ageing fringe dweller in the old country town
Has never played football with the local club
And always drinks on his own when he is in the pub.
Since he does not talk about the local club's latest loss or win
He remains an outsider and does not fit in
Though he has lived here for ten years as an outsider he remain
The status of a local he has yet to attain.
He feels a decade of his life enough to have spent here
He will move to the bigger town early next year
This not a town for one such as he an artist and a talented man
More suited to a footballer or a football fan.
In the old country town he does not have a friend
And his stay in the place is coming to an end
In his early to mid fifties his best days long gone
And he feels the time is ripe for him to move on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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He Is Such A Joyful Winner
He is such a joyful winner but he does not like to lose
His favourite team won at the weekend so he went on the booze
He could not go to work today he feels fuzzy in the head
And nursing his hangover he lay at home in bed.
A football mad young person he surely loves the game
To be the Club's best barracker is his great claim to fame
At every goal his team kicks he whoops aloud in joy
The man in his late twenties at heart remains a boy.
His beanie in his Club Football colours to bed he even wear
His Club as important to him as his wife and children his type no longer rare
In the pub with his drinking mates their main topic is football
The great players and the winners and the losers of the weekend games they recall.
His team won at the weekend but he is in bed today
For too much celebrating his price he has to pay
He proudly wears the Club colours of his favourite football team
And every victory that they have good for his self esteem.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Hang Down Your Head Kelly Tilghman
This time tomorrow
Reckon where I'll be
Down in some lonesome valley
Hangin' from a white oak tree (The Kingston Trio)
Kelly thought she was being cute,
Kelly thought she had made a funny,
Golf Central would not fire her,
As she is a woman,
Not being Rush, Imus, Jimmy the Greek Snyder,
They were men.
She is of course blonde, so is Caitlin Upton,
Maybe that explains the fact,
Golf Central would not fire her.
She stated that the only way the upcoming golfer would defeat Tiger Woods,
If they would beat him up, like Tonya Harding did to Nancy Kerrigan,
Further more they should 'lynch Tiger Woods in a back alley.'
If the KKK would have been paying her I would understand,
But if, not she could have been playing bedroom course,
She could have been playing on the course where there is easy “lay” on the turf,
She was a caddy to Arnold Palmer,
She could have kissed his balls while he ventured out the first ho’,
That would make his putter stand up.
Golf Central still would not fire her.
(1-13-2008)
poem by Joe Rosochacki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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