big dream & grind
a player with odd circumstance
battle life with a game of chance
practice hard through the trails
you’ll be rewarded with a great big smile
be thankful for the past
life will change for you very fast
Oh, oh, oh, yeah…..

on the ropes: pummelled;
somehow, he stays on his feet:
the bell ends the round!

~
Love is the painting
every heart hopes to achieve,
sifting through seldom
looked upon pictures,
we came upon this masterpiece:

The little boy pensive
just to hold the hand
of his darling,
and skipping along
we played to this game,
giggling in each other's ear,
yet, with only sweet innocent thoughts.

The daytime summer sun
meant a twirl in the air,
a ride on the swing,
and an ice cream to share.

As children love
was an amusement ride,
just leisure fun we never took seriously,
as adults love achieved art,
developing a magnum opus
rich in its own poetry.

The young man proud
just to hold the hand of his darling,
and strolling along their game matures,
they whisper in each other's ear,
yet, with each word the balance
of their intimate thoughts so rest.

The dazzled moonlight of evening
means an aura in the air,
the anticipated kiss it will bring,
and maybe an ice cream to share.

We were never good at every sport,
but somehow this one
came so natural for us,
and so we too were an art
unto ourselves.
~

Star soldier with the rocket arm,
you bleed silver, gold,
and product placement.

Smile big for the camera,
the media will sell its soul
for a new bankable face.

Party hardy, Heisman candidate,
******* your semi-steady's
sorority sister,
then ask to see her again
sometime after the **** kit.

It's quite alright,
so long as you have talent
beyond this hemisphere.
Why even the fatherland, ESPN,
will gladly call you "son."

she plays soccer
it’s
ok?

her coach is flamboyant
and loud
and nice
and she feels

so so very small
even though she is goalie
and has big feet
and spidery hands

she faces a lot of doubt
in goal
at home
on the court where she practices

is she valued?
is she liked?
do people think she’s ok?
does it matter?

If you score it like baseball,
It’s nothing,
A perfect game
For both parties,
A marathon
With no ribbon at the end.
I’ll push that rock up the mountain,
But it always rolls away.
Playing tennis with a wall
Often ends in self defeat,
But I get lost in the heat
Of competition.
I have a premonition
That I’ll break it down,
Chip by chip,
Brick by brick,
But rubber’s got nothing
On masonry.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss the blue uniform,
The oversized hoodies
And the black uniform shoes.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss sneaking in snacks in the bus,
And the food fights with my friends.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss the sports classes,
When we ran rounds together as punishments,
And made excuses to sit back.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss classes where we passed chits,
The times when we did last minute homeworks,
And covering up for your absence.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss you, my friend,
I miss your presence,
And all our times together.