An Awkward Lie
The course looks soft and silky
Perfectly manicured lying in wait
Fresh ball active on the tee
Every man anticipating ones fate
The sound was deafening from the crack of the drive
Bouncing down the fairway eyes following as if alive
Coming to a rest in the deep rough
Dropping his head now self conscious
Calmly he removes a card from the side poach
Caddy nervously contemplating the approach
Wrongly estimating his clubs heft
Looks of despair as it hocks to the left
Disappearing the crowd let out a sigh
Judge gazing at the awful tricky lie
Man against nature at its best
Now’s the moment to show the rest
This requires an extraordinarily high shot
The golfer knew he had to hit the sweet spot
Hacking down with all his might
The ball dug deeper out of sight
Thinking to himself golf makes man humble
Wishing to search ‘ Awkward Lie ‘ in Google
Takes a breath knowing this ball is going on the green
Skimming off two trees rolls in the cup thats eighteen
poem by David Darbyshire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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Keepin'-Th'Big-Ball Bouncin
Caught up in the nonsense.
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncing.
And waiting for some annoucement...
To stop that loud sound that pounds!
Caught up in the nonsense.
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncing.
Yet hypnotized to the aspect,
Folks stay ready to pounce.
But no one moves to unload the packs,
Stacked on their backs.
Mounting are their burdens,
And some like it like that!
Caught up in the nonsense.
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncing.
Bitten lips,
Bleeding blood.
Taking it.
With the moaning.
Sighing in their pain with pleas...
As if they seek someone to please.
And squeezing sweat from handkerchieves...
In fields they're proud to plow,
But gone!
Caught up in the nonsense.
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncing.
With a dragging of their feet...
To feed defeat on urban streets.
And reminiscing this so easy,
As if this beat succeeds.
And it does.
A nothingness achieved...
Like this does.
Caught up in the nonsense.
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncing.
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncing.
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncing.
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncing.
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncing.
And...
A nothingness achieved,
Like this does.
Ahhhh...bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-b all bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncin'
Ahhhh...bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ba ll bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncin'
Ahhhh...bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ba ll bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncin'
Ahhhh...bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ba ll bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncin'
Keepin'-th'big-ball bouncin'
And nothing gets achieved...
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Them Heavy People
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
They arrived at an inconvenient time.
I was hiding in a room in my mind.
They made me look at myself. I saw it well.
Id shut the people out of my life.
So now I take the opportunities:
Wonderful teachers ready to teach me.
I must work on my mind. for now I realise:
Everyone of us has a heaven inside.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Them heavy people help me.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
They open doorways that I thought were shut for good.
They read me gurdjieff and jesu.
They build up my body, break me emotionally.
Its nearly killing me, but what a lovely feeling!
I love the whirling of the dervishes.
I love the beauty of rare innocence.
You dont need no crystal ball,
Dont fall for a magic wand.
We humans got it all, we perform the miracles.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Them heavy people help me.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball...
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Basketball
I was bouncing my ball
on a warm summer day
when he looked up
and he did say
shoot me through
that hoop up there
and let me fly
right through the air
shoot me through
that orange round rim
if you make it
we will win
but if you miss it
that's okay
cuz i'll still love you
anyway
I shot the ball
and i made the shot
the ball looked up and said
thanks, thanks alot
I knew you could do it
I knew you would
keep practicing now
just like you should
Highly Ambitious Dot
the lowly dot
learns that ambition is a virtue
and so one day
it rolls itself upon itself
until it becomes a line
and then it runs and struggles
and chases and rises and stretches
and curls and winds itself upon itself
until it becomes a shape
until it learns the best shape to be in
a circle that feeds upon its own shape
until it become a sphere
a ball
a rubber ball until it becomes
a bouncing ball
bouncing and bouncing until it masters
the tricks of being the most
important circle
the earth
where you live.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My soccer team
I see men standing next to each other
in a line
and they wear yellow and green.
The national anthem plays
and its like nobody honours it
or know the words,
but maybe they are caught by the great moment.
The whistle blows
and the ball is kicked to and fro
and there are men attacking
and others that defend.
The goal is open
and the ball flies past in a wide arc
and it’s as if my team
can’t score any goal.
The opponents have the ball
and shoot it right over the field
and one of their front players
hits it with his head.
The ball flies twisting
and with a swing in the air
and is accurately aimed at the goal
As from the ground
the goalie rises
and the onlookers are silent
and just before it’s too late,
the ball is caught
and the crowd cheers.
It is as if something sweeps into
the men with yellow and green
and they play perfectly,
like only a good team can.
There’s passion to win
and the ball is passed
from player to player
and a mighty kick,
launches it accurately past the goalkeeper
to get entangled in the net.
The crowd cheers and go nuts
and vuvezelas are blowing
and flags are swept to and thro
and the players grab each other.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beautiful Game
As you step on to the muddy field,
You feel the joy rise inside you,
The crowd roars as the players take up there positions;
And your team gets ready to kick off.
As the game commence all nervousness is lost,
Replaced by a sudden adrenaline rush,
The play goes back and forth, forth and back;
But you run on still,
nothing else concerns you but the ball.
It goes on as such for many minutes,
Until your rivals get a chance,
Your goalie tries but to your despair the ball finds the back of the net;
The crowd boos in anger and frustration.
The very next play the ball comes to you,
You run up the wing blasting by defender after defender,
You see an opening in the keeper’s defences;
You wind up to shoot and…
TWEET! You’re tackled by a defender,
Penalty shot declares the ref,
To the opposition’s protest.
You place the ball on the penalty spot,
And the once roaring crowd goes silent,
Thousands of eyes are upon you unspeaking and unforgiving,
As you wind up to shoot all time seems to stop;
And Suddenly time resumes to the roar of the crowd
And your teammates swarming around you,
At this moment you think to yourself,
Soccer, the beautiful game.
poem by Joseph Conlan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Happy Sadness of Golf
It’s not a sport or pastime … and usually not fun.
You’re reduced to a mumbler before you are done.
The book says to hit against your left side.
Seems like hitting the ball is what should be tried.
Then there’s that bit about not moving your head.
That’ll be no problem … as soon as you’re dead.
Down and behind the ball is what they say.
Just more of the same … your game’s going that way.
And what’s the deal about a full shoulder turn?
One try and it’s wheelchair racing to learn.
And be sure your follow-through finishes high.
No matter your shot’s an unplayable lie.
Or maybe your release wasn’t just right.
Keep the faith, hacker, the nineteenth’s in sight.
Then they wreck the course with water and rough.
Just making small holes is rotten enough.
Ah, putting; yes, putting … what a miserable part.
A three-footer with a break can tear out your heart.
The worst things of all are those ugly out-of-bounds
With their penalty strokes and club-throwing sounds.
Lessons, hope and practice … no, they’ll never pay.
Watch golf on tv … you’ll be saner that way!
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Looking For Work
Infinite feints
for a lane
to go driving.
Still there's
no opening.
Jump shot
pumped from afar
spits in the net,
sole sound.
The bucket is made,
but the ball
the ball is still bouncing.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Havin A Ball
Written by james young, john curulewski
Lead vocals by james young
Yeah
Now tell me girl
Wont you tell me true
Help me get this out of my head
Now fenny thinks that there aint no stoppin
Until you got me flat on my back
You know my number
Just give me a call
You know what Im thinking
Were just havin a ball
Now theres things that I agree with
And things that I really dont
If you think Im free to try something crazy
There aint nothing round that I wont
You know my number
Just give me a call
You know what Im thinking
Were just havin a ball
Yeah
Just havin a ball
Just havin a ball
Just havin a ball
Just havin a ball
Now if you want to spend some time with me
If youve got some time to kill
Tell more or else Ill leave this place
Know a couple of a ladies that will
You know my number
Just give me a call
You know what Im thinking
Were just havin a ball
You know my number
Just give me a call
You know what Im thinking
Were just havin a ball
Yeah
Just havin a ball
Just havin a ball
Just havin a ball
Just havin a ball
You know my number
Just give me a call
You know what Im thinking
Were just havin a ball
You know my number
Just give me a call
You know what Im thinking
Were just havin a ball
You know my number
Just give me a call
You know what Im thinking
Were just havin a ball
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Meat Ball
(l. singer-h.zaret)
The little man walked up and down
To find an eating place in town
He read the menu through and through
To see what fifteen cents could do
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
He told the waiter near at hand
A simple dinner he had planned
The guests were startled one and all to hear
That waiter loudly call
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, this here gent wants one meat ball
Little man felt very bad
One meat ball was all he had
And in his dreams he hears that call
Ya gets no bread with one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, you get no bread with one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
All he could afford was one meat ball
One meat ball
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Made Okay To Do It Your Way
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
Why did you choose to pick a ball,
Knowing picking it...
Wasn't cool to do.
You complained,
That you couldn't take the weight.
And a waiting too late makes it okay.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
Why did you choose to pick a ball,
Knowing picking it...
Wasn't cool to do.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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High Ball Shooter
Well Im a rock and roll preacher
Not a sunday school teacher
You aint no shady lady
But I love the way you strut your stuff
Youre a snow queen looking mean
Tryin to make it on the scene
I guess you love it
cause I always see you hanging around
Youre a high ball shooter
You make it easy to see
High ball shooter
You sure ripped the low ones off me
A magnet brought you to me
Told me your name was jo
You said you liked my music
And you really did enjoy the show
Now I wanna play piano
But my fingers dont agree
Theyre busy on you woman
And I feel your fingers workin on me
Youre a high ball shooter
You make it easy to see
High ball shooter
You sure ripped the low ones off me
Its time to leave you honey
I know youre feeling sad
Dont you cry now baby
You know that only makes me mad
I see you everywhere I go
Every town and place
I cant recall your name
But I know I wont forget your sweet face
Youre a high ball shooter
You make it easy to see
High ball shooter
You sure ripped the low ones off me
cause youre a high ball shooter
You make it easy to see
High ball shooter
You sure ripped the low ones off me
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Triumph
Why am I full of joy although
It drizzles on the links?
Why am I buying Veuve Cliquot,
And setting up the drinks?
Why stand I like a prince amid
My pals and envy none?
Ye gods of golf! Today I did
A Hole in One.
I drove my ball to heaven high,
It over-topped the hill;
I tried to guess how it would lie,
If on the fairway still.
I climbed the rise, so sure I'd hit
It straight towards the green:
I looked and looked,--no trace of it
Was to be seen.
My partner putted to the pin,
Then hoarse I heard him call;
And lo! So snug the hole within
Gleamed up my ball.
Yea, it was mine. Oh what a thrill!
What dandy drive I'd done
By luck,--well, grant a little skill,
I'd holed in one.
Say that my score is eighty odd,
And though I won't give up,--
Say that as round the course I plod,
I never win a cup.
Say that my handicap's nineteen,
And of my game make fun,
But holler: 'On the seventh green
HE HOLED IN ONE.'
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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061810C breeze behind me
cold enough for wind breaker
but sea lovers can't be deter
strolling barefoot on the beach
looking up the hill out of reach
joyous crowd found themselves
screaming as golf ball rolls in
surfers doesn't mind waiting
surf are very shy they're hiding
thanks paddle keep 'em going
wind pick up, push dimple flight
veering left away from fairway
challenge and to fans' delight
poem by Manonton Dalan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Feels Good
low feathery clouds, cast a shadow
drooping trees hugging the periphery
greens, green grass blankets the plains
on the corner beneath the biggest tree
i sit there, dreaming, writing poetry
when my mind closes the screen
i hit a golf ball to the far end
sometimes i miss, i don't know
so i'll try again, this one for the show.
walking on the rough, looking for my ball clover
white flowers, yellow prairie flowerets
grass a shoe deep, wet and very thick
i use my seventh iron as probing stick
a small greenish frog stands tall
blinks her eyes, she thinks i'm a fool
squirrels run around thinking my ball is a nut
i can't find it, they know where it is at
i don't really mind i have a bag full of that
cars are passing, runners trudging
friends talking, dog stopping and sniffing
birds singing, cool breeze blowing
i could smell the scent of sweetness
feel like screaming but i sneezeso loud,
it scares the buzzing bees
sorry, i must be so excited… i know
does this ever happen to you
it feels good, it's really true.
poem by Manonton Dalan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Greatest
Little boy, in a baseball hat stands in the field with his ball and bat.
Says, "I am the greatest player of them all" puts his bat on his shoulder and he tosses up his ball.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground.
Now the little boy doesn't say a word, picks up his ball, he is undeterred.
Says, "I am the greatest there has ever been" and he grits his teeth and he tries it again.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground.
He makes no excuses, he shows no fear, he just closes his eyes and listens to the cheers.
Little boy, he adjusts his hat, picks up his ball, stares at his bat
Says,"I am the greatest, the game is on the line" and he gives his all one last time.
And the ball goes up and the moon so bright, swings his bat with all his might
The world's as still, as still can be, the baseball falls and that's strike three.
Now it's suppertime and his momma calls, little boy starts home with his bat and ball.
Says, "I am the greatest, that is a fact, but even I didn't know I could pitch like that!"
Says, "I am the greatest,that is understood, but even I didn't know I could pitch that good!
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Greet, Meet And To Brag
My eyes never left the ball.
Afterall...
I became disciplined to keep my focus on it.
And when I joined on the field with others,
Who made claims they came with aims to play...
In a way to prove with me they could complete.
My eyes never left the ball to reach.
My eyes never left the ball not at all.
And when it was thrown in the air others stared.
But my eyes were right there to catch it...
To run with it and score a goal.
I came on the field prepared to win.
Not to say I just came to play.
Like others who came just to huddle.
My eyes never left the ball. afterall...
I did not come to greet, meet nor to brag,
With embellished exaggerations...
Of what I could do or had done in my past.
My eyes never left the ball...they couldn't.
And I was there on the field to win not pretend,
I came just to play to socialize and go away.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lets Have A Ball
(bunn)
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I may never get a break like this in life no more
Well, I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I may never get a break like this in life no more
Got money in my pocket
I aint begging for bread
Cadillac el dorado
Well, its gone to my head
I got a short time living and a long greasy time to pay (play) dead
Aint doing no favours, aint asking for none
Honey, I got money, I can pay for my fun
Thats the way I want it, thats the way it must be done
[because]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
I may never get a break like this in life no more
A certain little mama [you ? ? ? ? for me]
Gonna jump and shout [oh, yeah]
When the el dorado rolls up [ ah]
And Ill come walking out [? ? ? ]
Gonna tell ya pretty baby [say you like nothing]
You dont know what its all about
(Ive got) no special woman [no special woman]
Want no special friend [no special friend]
Want a good time today [good time today]
Tomorrow may be down again [may be down again]
Dont dial my number [oh, lord]
Ill tell you when [Ill tell you when]
I wanna ball like I never did ball before [before, before, before]
Really wanna...never did ball before [before, before, before]
I may never get a break like this in life no more
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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