'Referees' poems - Hello Poetry

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Andrew Rueter Nov 2017

Vontaze Burfict

I'm a fan of Vontaze Burfict
Though he may not be perfect
For he gives players concussions
To continue the daily discussions
Of the power of his percussion
To receive a hall of fame induction
That is where his value is derived
So what do these penalties imply?
That the referees have a preconceived notion of him
And are preemptively looking to treat him grim
Which gives his team a lesser chance to win
Which makes the biased referees grin

We are a country that idolizes quarterbacks
Every other position we're quick to attack
We only care about who has the ball
And laughing at others when they fall
We worship that which is shiny
And view everything else as grimy
Quarterbacks become celebrities incredulously
While everyone else is treated impetuously

The NFL is like America
Politics makes it harder to watch
The Patriots are boring and plain
They win constantly
The Bengals are entertaining and rough around the edges
They show promise and potential that is never realized
In a nation
Of provocation
I'd rather proudly call myself a bengal
I know that seems an idealistic angle
But Cincinnati provides no coziness or protection
You must always avoid discriminate detection
Of those that call themselves patriots
That drive blue and white chariots
And penalize players unnecessarily
For African Americanning

We really fumbled the ball
Because of the ref's call
That treats us unequally
How they have fun evilly
They can arbitrarily treat whoever however
But a concussion will make them less clever

#vontaze #burfict

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Matt Shade Aug 2016

Star Log 4 :: Culture Study :: Broadcast from Zargoz

"Holy Quambats!",
bellows low-orbit sports announcer 33e, a.k.a. Rick,
"The Zargoball's been switched! With a hopping Ugaroo!",

(An Ugaroo is an adorable jumping rodent from Vulky II, and a Quambat is the ten foot titanium pole typically used to hit a Zargoball across any particular preset playing perimeter- this for any listeners at home who are new to the sport.)

"Not to worry! It seems that Team Lime Green has gotten the Ugaroo caught in a snare- placed here in the ancient past for JUST such an occasion! Uh-oh! Here come the Iron Knights to try and steal their capture!"

(There are over 70,302 teams [exactly 70,303 teams] currently competing for possession of the Zargoball on planet Zargoz, partaking in the galaxies favorite interstellar pastime- a popular sport known also as Zargoz. The current round began at an unknown date in the planets ancient history, and all that remain of its origins are a plethora of wildly conflicting and confusing myths. It seems here that Team Lime Green has passed down knowledge of their hidden snare for hundreds of generations through word of mouth before this incident today. Miraculously, their bizarre efforts appear to have payed off.)

"Oh, what a blast! The Zorodan Order has just dropped a neutron bomb over the site of the capture, eradicating all life within a fifty mile radius! All referees are currently contacting their lawyers! And now... The word is in! The new Zargoball has been placed in the Temple City, just outside the Zorodan Temple! Power move!"

(...)

"The timing however couldn't have been worse! It is now 29:29am of the third day of Rayah on the Zorodan Calendar! All Zorodan on Zargoz must now drop all clothing and physical possessions, sit on the ground, and spend the next 3 days in holy naked meditation! The Council of Crystals has now moved in and captured the temple, decapitating all naked Zorodan on sight! After burning down the temple, the Council will be transporting the Zargoball via Air Carrier to ninety-third base, where hoards of treasures await the recipient of this hard-earned point! It's a long journey though! Before they arrive, someone had better discover the secret location of ninety-third base! And quick!"

(The secret location of ninety-third base actually, out of sheer coincidence, is also inside the Zorodan Temple- however it will now likely be well over a hundred years before this is discovered, as the only living contestants with knowledge of its location have been recently decapitated and burned.)

"Folks, I'd like to take this minute to promote our sponsor, Fizzwerz! A bubbly drink, sweeter than theropian glass-grass and recently determined to be more highly addictive than human crack, now cost you only 13.1 Gobi credits! These are- HOLY GOD!! Attention folks, I'd like to interrupt this interruption to announce a spectator of honor here in the low-orbit VIP section! Actually God himself! What a serious honor! And now we return to our broadcast! Oh here we go! Oh dear! It seems that the pilot of the Crystal Council Air Carrier was a Swamper spy all along! The carriers passengers have all been knocked unconscious by his thick perfume! What a show!"

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Terence James Potter Sep 2018

Rugby season

The smell of the oil as it's rubbed on your shoulder
The passion of the coach , we must be much bolder
The hatred of a player on the opposite side
The knowing when you'er out there there's nowhere to hide
The whistle has blow your anxiety drop
The firsts tackle made is a 19 stone prop
The taste of your blood makes it all worth while
The prop gets up and gives that I'll **** you next time smile
The old man on the score board sets our team to win
The small crowd on the side making all the din
The referees whistle calls the game to end
The prop who tried to **** you is now your friend
The hot water finds your wounds without any tear
The thought of some grub and a pint of beer
The game you so love has come to its end
The club house the banter a chat with a friend
The talk of the game the rights and the wrongs
The choir master arises and we blast out our songs

See you training

Rugby is a game for men with leather *****.

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The Dedpoet Feb 2016

You Know Your a Poet When: Superbowl Edition

You could not wait til halftime to check your poem or add one.

2. You wrote a sonnet about pretty horses. (Broncos)

3.You wrote a poem about kittens.(Panthers)

4. As the ball soars through the air, you are reminded of a bird in flight.

5. A Superbowl commercial inspired a new poem.

6. You paused the game with your DVR to write a piece.

7. You think the referees look like majestic Zebra on the African plains.

8. You ponder the coin toss and wonder of chance and philosophical questions as to whether life is like a paradox, then write yourself a poem about it.

9. When a tackle is made, you think upon the animalistic nature of humanity and write a haiku about it.

10. There is a notebook and pen right next to your remote and munchies.

11. You have a neck ache due to looking at your hellopoetry site and then back up at the t.v.

12. You write Peyton Manning farewell poem.

13. The commentator of the game makes a poetical statement and you use it in your latest poem.

14. The crowd boos a player and you feel compelled to write the pain of number 94 in a poem.

15. Last but not least, you might be a poet if you are reading this and the game is on.

#superbowl #dedpoet

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Aa Harvey Sep 2018

This is my Bloodbowl

This is my Blood Bowl.

Thank you Games Workshop for giving us Blood Bowl;
I’ve played it all my life and I’ve completely re-written the rules.
It allows my imagination to run wild carrying a sword,
Attacking all sorts of creatures, whilst playing American Football.
It has magic, magic items and you may think it’s just for kids;
But without Blood Bowl,
I wouldn’t have imagined half of the things that I did.

People need a release from the real world;
Mine is found on a football pitch in the game of Blood Bowl.
People cheat, steal and bribe referees and do almost anything.
If you give this game to your kid,
They could imagine the impossible
And some day, maybe, write random poetry like me!  He, he.

…And now down to the pitch to see the kickoff!...

The humans line up against the bad boy orcs;
The dwarfs and elves are in support.
Chaos lords and chaos spawn (twisted creatures);
Rain down pain and death on the undead and the living.

The undead walk slowly, the goblins flee!
Rat Ogres and trolls are invading the pitch!
The referee blows his whistle to send the giant off!
The deadly dark elves chop the referee’s up with chainsaws,
Or use swords and axes, grenades and clubs.
They are all fighting to win the B.B.C. cup.

The Blood Bowl Championship;
It’s like the NFL Superbowl trophy.
I’ve made leagues and cups
And every single thing possible, just for fun; just for me.

The Official Blood Bowl Organization,
Try to make all weapons illegal, but oh no, no, no!
This is the sport of death!
This is Blood Bowl!

Use spells and magic items and cause suffering;
The tiny snotling is beaten by the little Halfling.
The ***** in there somewhere, though nobody cares;
The Beastmen are just here to fight,
Whilst the gnomes laugh at the high elves hair.
Such pampered fools, in love with themselves;
Vanity and self-love?  That must be the elves.

Here comes a chaos dwarf, driving a steam roller;
He flattens the Fimir and another vampire.
The zombies are clueless and one fumbles the ball,
Before he is decapitated, by the Reikland Reavers’ Mighty Zug!

The ghoul’s are hungry for blood;
Here come the orks, the band of goffs.
Crazy *** gitz, just having a laugh.
Here are the sneaky Skaven to stab someone in the back.

Amazonian women are running around screaming,
Like the banshee’s and all sorts of scary demons.
The Sisters of Battle are from the future;
A bear charges at a Treeman and look!  There’s a little Gnoblar.

Giant bats, giant snails, giant rats and giant eagles,
Giant leeches, giant frogs, giant spiders and giant scorpions.
The norse are Vikings, (ranked titles include kings);
There’s a termagant from the year 40,000 and something.
There are space marines, and space wolf marines,
All armed to the teeth with weapons.

The genestealer’s steal genes to make new creatures/weapons;
There are evil gnomes, evil ewoks, ewoks and evil Treemen.
Lesser demons fight lesser goblins and run from the Lictor!
The werebear’s and werewolves fight the wolves and Saurus creatures.
There is no victor.

The skinks fire poisoned blowpipes at the Large beasts & minions.
Chaos Halflings beat up people on camels and horses
And they beat up Khemri with anything.
Mummies climb out of their crypts to bring death to the mutants;
The slayers are here to bring down the mighty bone giants.

The noble Brettonians see Blue and Pink Horrors running around;
Tyranids, Tyranid warriors and tyrants send people underground.
Dead now in this game of Blood Bowl; the game of death!
Witch elves are being hunted by Witch Hunters;
There’s only three left.

To the right is a Zoat fighting a huge Yeti.
A chaos human rides a chaos horse; look out Goddess Betty.
Greater demons bring down Griffons and **** the crazy monkeys;
The mushlings and snotrooms are simply fleeing and screaming.

Skeletons on skeletal horses, fight salamanders and satyrs.
Jabberwocks and Juggernauts,
Destroy Hydra’s with the Hydra’s own fire.
Chaos Warriors and Chaos human cowboys, slug it out with Gods;
Norse dwarves fight Nurgles rotter’s and nurgling’s fight ogres.

The slann were the originators of the game of Blood Bowl;
The Ushabti Tomb Kings come from Khemri to fight the robotic Tau.
Vostroyan drunks are fighting with Wood elves.
Oh my God!  That troglodyte really does smell!

Warhounds race Gladehounds and cyborg’s fight cyboar’s;
Big cats include tigers and lions, so we must quickly carry on.
A carrion is an undead bird and they are ****** huge!
The imperial guard are like the rebels in Terminator;
They are humans.

Kroxigor’s smash boney clubs & break Kroot’s predator-like heads;
Kislevite Horsemen and Cowboy’s ride horses onto the pitch.
Night goblin’s and forest goblin’s steal from all including the Eldar.
They are elves of the future and there are chaos space marines…

They have travelled far.

Every creature has come to take part in this game of football.
Its American football with death included; it’s so much fun!
Harpy fly above Haradhrim as a Necron breaks his own jaw;
He fell over when dodging the tomb scorpion’s claw.

Thrall and Wights march to battle on the pitch against the living;
Undead champions are leaders of death
And the minotaur’s eat the dead.
Nobody knows who is winning.
Chimera and other daemonic beasts are really tough to ****, I see;
But that boar just exploded, thanks to the grenade…
Bye life, hello death; he, he.

Elementals are like Gods of earth, wind, water and fire.
Dragon ogres are going to **** anything that gets in their way!
Dreadnoughts are made to ****; there’s a wolf!
This undead one’s dire.
Dryad are small Treemen; there are some Elite Skaven!
Open fire!

Savage orcs fight sea elves as squig hopper’s bounce past randomly.
Ungor’s are little Beastmen, but there are still quite deadly.
Manticores destroy lizardmen and there’s a blood-soaked cold one.
Bull centaur’s charge at black orc’s,
Who are ganging up with a chaos champion.

Centaurs crash into carnosaur’s,
As Dark eldar fly down from their space ships.
Hobgoblins can’t be trusted; the thieving gits!
Orc leaders are warlords, bosses and big bosses too;
The Redemptionists are the priest from aliens 3 or aliens 2.
Whichever I can’t remember and haven’t got time to look;
Oh yeah let’s watch the game again and see who has got the ball.

Golem!  (phlegm!)  Golem!  No; not that one!
These golems are Flesh golem’s and some are made of stone.
They are creature of magic and are here to smack some heads;
And this is the end of the poem…

Dedicated to Games workshop (thank you) and the sport of death!

(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

#game #creatures #football #violence #fantasy #magic #bloodbowl #imagination #gamesworkshop

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weinburglar Mar 2015

Success is a Cockroach

A six-legged Asian cockroach just washed up on American soil, and it can lay eggs on ice.

Roaches are infamous for the myth that they're one of the few species that could survive an atomic bomb. It's not science, but even Adam Savage and his gang of Myth Buster's say it's beyond myth: a human croaks after ten minutes of exposure to 1,000 units of cobalt 60. But for roaches, 10% of their population survives after exposure to 10,000 rads - hell, it's better than zero.

This new species is the most evolutionarily persistent thing ever - if surviving means anything, it win's life on earth, hands down.

But I'd rather be a monkey.

We **** up and **** ourselves everyday. We slip and **** ourselves with power tools, or smash our fists into soccer referees and manslaughter oops ****. We shoot ourselves off of propulsion equipment to see what happens. Bone-crunching splatter ****.

From 100 feet up, we look like ******* mad men.

But the roach shows up carefully and gets **** done with nasty perseverance. The roach with vapid speech and wide eyes, glued to efficiencies and body armor.

To exist plainly - to work, eat. and sleep - is done best by roaches. Success is a cockroach.

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Marshal Gebbie Sep 2014

A Paralysis of Will

Lured by the siren voices of human aggrandizement,
The hedonistic, headlong pursuit of material satisfaction.
By the few who seek wealth and power
On a scale undreamed of
By the Caesars and Pharaohs
Or even by the lofty, pampered Imperialists
Of the heady nineteenth century.

Ignored, are the vast stinking, majority,
The teeming poor who sink deeper
Into the morass of hunger and wretchedness.
In circumstances of inescapable horror
Which breed hopelessness
And the smouldering hatred
Of lasting resentment and fear

A world of vast inequality.
Marshaled by the incorrigibly rich
In order to sate their selfish and aggressive
Lust for more.
An ideological evil
Which grips the lost and deprived
With the extinction of hope
And the rage to exact…a retribution.

Then there is the deterioration
Of international leadership,
The willingness or inability
Of world powers to control
Excess or anarchy within or without
Their borders…
Even whilst circling each other
With monstrous weaponry
And an engulfing, growing,
Antagonism of distrust.

America is in retreat to it’s fortress shores.
Europe is leaderless, timid and uncontactable.
Russia, near bankrupt, snarling aggression
And clawing back a buffer of unwilling former satellites.
Eurasia and the Middle East seething
With religious and racial warfare.
Africa in the throes of losing control
Of a world threatening Ebola pandemic.
China clawing it’s way forward
To global economic and military dominance.

A world without referees or rules
Where antagonistic giants force
The un-powerful to adopt
An ultimatum of “either them or us”.
Where the threat of terrorism transcends borders every day,
Where genocidal practices and weapons of mass destruction,
Computer global anarchy and environmental depredation
Illustrate the growing volatility
Of a deteriorating world order.

There is a Paralysis of Will in mankind.
Anthropology, psychology and physiology
Recognise only one single human species.
But that species is impossibly fractionated….
By an entrenched pattern of conflict,
An inability to compromise,
A refusal to disperse wealth for the common good,
Global racial and religious disharmony and animosity
And a fundamental refusal to communicate
Proactively …at all.

The consequences of tolerating
And furthering this Paralysis of Will,
Shall lead mankind to an apocalypse.
The consequences of which,
Are just too terrible to contemplate.

Somehow we should, as one,
Engender… a common aspiration,
With a level of universal commitment,
To induce an attitude, a consciousness
Of great and abiding…
World Citizenship.

Realistic? …No!
Likely? …No!
Do you give it a snowballs chance in Hell? …Not this week!

Why?... The frailty of Human Nature!

M.
From just about as far away from everything as you can, thankfully, possibly get….
NEW ZEALAND.
20 September 2014

With thanks for base material from The Baha'i Universal House of Justice and Henry Kissinger's new book on"Threatening Chaos"
M.

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Historian E Lexano Feb 2018

Chelsea&Barcelona

Chelsea&Barça

Chelsea&Barça
Is when a stadium is torn between
The devil and the deep blue *sea
And referees are left solely and boldly
To decide on only what they see

Chelsea&Barça
Is when elegance and eclecticism sits in enmity
And battles it out till
In its entirety or finality

Chelsea&Barça
Is when the proverbs of curse begin
As teams fail to steam and win

Chelsea&Barça
Is a match with no particular price
Yet,everything is priced and staked
Every second counts,the minutes take
As the game changes,and break

Chelsea&Barça
Is when eyes cannot be kept
Of that which it behold
Not for a moment nor a second
Life is defined,is a clinging- hope

Chelsea&Barça
Is only when dark horses stumble
Giant pyramids
For glory sake,in just the name of the highest bids

Chelsea&Barça
Is when brothers dine on tables of passion
With swords and blades
As shades are thrown
And bloods are trade

Chelsea&Barça
Is when the pool of the eyes
Overflow its banks
And men gets laid in ice
For their low ranks

Chelsea&Barça
Is both life and death

Chelsea&Barça
Is certainly the story of the last breathe

#ThePrince
#GreatestPoetEver

©Historian E.Lexano
™Recalcitration With Excellence

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David Ehrgott Sep 2015

Fly Away With Me Chloe

THE SUPER SONNET
(14 syllables by 14 lines)

I want to beat up Jimmy Olsen and take all his cash
Leave him left for dead it's all inside my head; a gas
Explosion would take care of the rest and then I would have
Her all to myself the prettiest girl in the world

I'd kick his legs with steel-toed shoes like the referees kid
Did to all the star players way back when we were all kids
Man she looks like she could give eine bier some head, Superman
She looks hotter than a ******* Pet/Playmate, Superman

Come on, let me fly away with Chloe you'll save a lot
more men.  Believe me when I say she's got that rack of lamb
Roast of beef man  She's one sweet piece of meat Yeah that Chloe
She is the Smallville star by far that takes away my heart

Fly away with me Chloe  Fly away with me Chloe
Fly away with me Chloe  Fly away with me Chloe

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Nicole Joanne Sep 2014

The Whistle Has Blown.

What am I to do when the words are screaming within my head,
when the arms of the letters are engaged in a wrestling match
and they're ignoring the referees constant pleas to stop;
what is the referee to do when they're driving him mad?
What is he to do when they're driving him crazy?

The fights only exist in the ring, in the head,
for they don't even exist in the outside world.
Spoken word is nothing but dressed up thoughts;
nothing but children in costumes on Halloween night.
The referee can not exist outside,
neither can the battling words;
so how is he to get any peace of mind?

What is one to do when the things he's meant for drive him crazy,
what does one do when the only thing fueling him holds him back?
How does one free themselves from themselves?

(NJ2014) All Rights Reserved.

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Denise M Vazquez Feb 2012

floating breeze

hop skip and away
i'm flying today
feather in the air
i'm lighter, spark, fire
dare me to stay
but i just can't wait
i want to take to the skies
and see what i can find

hold on tight if you're in for the ride
want to see the whole world
see every fountain, river, mountain
lets explore open doors
step through find something new
no fear, any scrape or bruise
is an opportunity to grow
so
what do you say?
the only thing that could make this better
is if we're in this together
but i won't wait its now or never
you shouldn't have to think
so in a blink adios, te recordare!

so i take to the skies floating breeze
i want to be surprised at the colors
of the fish in the sea, and take a second
to see if there really is that many
or do i need to go fishing right now?
don't think i could stop if i tried
cause a fishy in the sea can
hook line and sinker this heart
if and when they're ready to sprout wings and
take to the skies floating breeze
sail overdrafts with me
jungles of Brazil to the city of Pair-ee

i've a heart meant for dancing,
beaches, culture, romancing
try anything once, most things twice
food, trees, and drinks are my vices
music is my ******* but it keeps me sane
so we just won't consider that a con
cause i'm pro-grammed hardwired
to move my feet to the beat of life
it may skip and shuffle sometimes
but thats the spice to the sugar
cause everything nice gave Jane a dull life

taking to the skies floating breeze
stop for a game of futbol no referees
play til sundown lay on the ground
catch my breath take a rest
open my eyes to watch the stars
turn the sky into my own lightshow
no cover charge
i want to see if they're in reach
so i take to the skies floating breeze
every different tree a different melody

now you're ready to explore with me?
consider yourself lucky i can recognize harmony
lets come together and find our rhythm
we make a beautiful song

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Andrew Rueter Jan 2021

Referees mismanage oversight
incorrect calls lower credibility
faith in justice dissolves into the ice
agency is taken into padded hands
vigilantes slash and spear.

Hip check leads to cross check leads to fist check
malignant hostility boils over
leather armor is removed
interphalangeal joints meet mandible
type O negative paints a jersey
haymakers take bizarre trajectories
to avoid helmets and visors
the face is homebase to ingrain pain.

Violence subverts gamesmanship
players must be taken off ice
to be put on ice
otherwise brawls become overabundant
and destroy the integrity of the sport
yet each transfer of agony is euphorically satisfying
—considering the context—
so fist fairs continue for the foreseeable future
we organize an impenetrable perimeter
once we've acclimated to penalty kills.

#hockey #fights

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Brian McDonagh Jan 2019

A Colosseum of Injustice II

Fans from both sides
Yelling at the referees,
Telling them how to do their job.
I wanted to defend the referees right
There.
But then I thought, "How could I plead my case
Regarding a sport that most of the audience knows
Better than I do?"
I rested my case in my head.
Even the coaches were mocking
How they could make better calls
And how many the referees missed.
I guess that's why my dad and brother
Didn't give a **** about the tension.
They've seen tension not only from me
In the family,
But they have an awareness of sports
That my experience cannot contest.

I have thin skin, I can't let these situations slide.
I couldn't be in an arena
Where every fan was booing the officials.
I had to leave; my hands are still marked with
The filth of unsportsmanlike conduct
On every animate being.
Sure no sport can come clean,
And everyone in my family and most outside my house
Had to remind me in basketball, piano, football,
That it's "just a game."

I left this so-called game early.
I wasn't really rooting for any team;
I don't even think I was watching a real game.

I was really tired while writing the first one, so if it's sloppy I apologize and will look into necessary edits. There's more I wanted to say on this poem's topic though...

#colosseum #injustice

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Alexander K Opicho Mar 2014

my CV

Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])

My name is nomenclatural postmodernism
My age is a blend of colonialism and freedom
My gender is engendered minus bias to LGBT
My languages is cultural defense from cultural Darwinism
With subaltern survival in the south-south dance,
My place of birth is epicenter of globalectics
My education is cosmetic with a knack in encyclopedic sham,
My work historiography is dialectic ignobling of the worker
As proceeds of my hand equally ennobles the master,
My profession is maximum respect to economic powers that be,
My schooling was done in two huge palimpsests,
My focus is to achieve poetic obscurantism out of artistic destituence,
My referees abode in the beatitude that blessed are they who thrill in ideas
For them is the kingdom of kingdoms in the global uni-polar politics.

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xavier thomas Jul 2021

Let me shoot 🏀

Ref blows whistle: (Full Time Out)

Me-
My man curled, screen, then tried to do a slip.
Size you in, and hit you really good in your lips.
No calls guaranteed, from these wack funky referees.
I’m ready to turn up on the court, bro, down with me?

Juice-
Hell yeah my guy! ******* and attitude kinda tight.
What a mess, Aye, Zay let’s put these boys to rest.

Me-
Straight facts! Next play they’re running flat.
The next time he do that, we’ll lay him on his back.

Time to respond. I'll get the ball, hit a crossover, and pass it through.
Hit your shimmy dance, shoot and move, shoot and move.

Juice-
*****, you ain’t got to say -ish!
I been ballin’ since 5th grade with the same tricks!

With the ball gripped, and a fake little drive.
Average 14p-10r-5a + an OG can still fly.
Just observe, I’m about to send these boy my regards.
Have the crowd singing, “Oh my Lord!”

Me-
Bet fam, love your crazy attitude!
We gone gang up on these rookies and beat them by 62!
Abuse them, with the upmost tempo vicious.
Dunk, score, scream and shout make them feel like quitting.

On Defense, guard #2 the short chubby dude.
I’ll guard #32 that look like a raccoon.
Go man to man with the little peasants.
When it’s all said and done, give these fools zero leg room exits.

Juice-
I'm dunking on chumps like O’Neal , offense-defense real!
Got ice in my veins from the thrill when I block and steal!
These little boys can’t stop me for -ish!
With my corner 3-pt nasty wet jumper, they gone have to recover.

Yup, make them suffer. We dangerous!
Whole team will lose confidence dawg, big trust!
Now let’s just chill, relax, stay focus no relapse,
watch our backs, but aye fam… where the ball at?

Ref blows whistle*: (Ball in!)

Game-Time

#basketball #attitude #story #win

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John F McCullagh Dec 2013

Regulation time was up
and our team one goal behind.
At the referees sole discretion
Is the length of stoppage time.
How much time do we have left?
What difference can we make?
Already we’re shorthanded
And the playoffs are at stake.
We’re like a man whose heart has failed
a time or two before.
Each time nearly off with death
Until revived for more.
Or somebody whose lease is up
And headed for the door,
Waiting only for the truck
to take their past to store.
I heard my pulse race in my ears
As I penetrate their line.
I tuck the ball inside the post
And score in stoppage time.

Just ahead a shootout waits
which will decide our fate.
When playing games of sudden death
What a difference seconds make.

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Alexander Ross Aug 2013

Silver tongues and black balloons and birds and paint

you sit and try to learn
The words you hear you said you could have written but you just needed another minute
When will it be your turn , to become a black balloon, and float toward freedom and the moon, your temper grows and true hearts are shown and now my mind has been blown like a referees whistle, you act like you are innocent but you know the fouls that you have committed
Just paint me a picture, of the future you see for yourself, tuck it away until a later day, let it collect dust upon your shelf
You are now the dove you dreamed of
Flying away back home, they say you can **** 2 birds with one stone,only if you agree to be alone
But I can only see the memory inside, even if its pressed betweeni a lie but your memory stays painted oN my mind

For the lion in New Jersey

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Jack May Sep 2020

This Is Football

It was in my mother’s father’s final days when Beckham curled it in against Greece
It should have been wrapped up months or at least minutes prior
But for the English
Football is a beautiful form of torture
Some relief in the dark and painful last of his days
It may sound dramatic from the outside
But from the inside
When you’re in on the secret
Football has always been the beautiful game for a reason
And fate was sealed that day

The infamous Zidane headbutt
It came at a time when I was realising people aren’t perfect and heroes are human
For me, not a disgrace, but a lesson
The world’s greatest are also flawed

Lampard 2010 World Cup
It was over the line
I know it
You know it
But the greatest journeys all have their ups and downs
Their misfortunes and their injustices
Our time is nigh
It’s coming home

The psychopathic work ethic of Ronaldo
The glue on the boots of Messi
The precision of the Pirlo pass
The ‘Why always me?’
The ‘You’ll never walk alone’
The wins, the losses
The joy, the heartbreak
The frustration of supporting a yo-yo that never goes all the way up
An ode to my forever unmentioned Plymouth Argyle
The screamers, the blunders
From Thierry to Titus Bramble
Alonso to Okocha
The once-club-record-signing whose name now evades you
The heroes, the villains
The naive dream that maybe one day you’ll make it
And the hope that maybe this will be our year
The diving, the referees, the relegations, the failure
The 4-0 thrashings by the rivals, the penalties and quarter finals

I don’t know why I do it to myself
But I know that I wouldn’t have it any other way
This is the beautiful game
This is football

#football #love #dream

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Michael Kusi Mar 2018

The Imperial Candidate

The Federation stood around stunned because they did not know what to say
Message was the heart of the Federation, and now she was in Drozen’s fray.
Lady of the Night appeared to them and said Message is ok, Drent you have explaining.
Because it was like they were Romeo and Juliet the way they were complaining.
Drent rose up and said, no it was more like Romeo and Juliet were like Drozen and Message.
My father tried to warn her that as an Imperial Candidate she should spurn his vestige.
But Message did not respond, and as Headdress Prince I tried to get together a decree.
That no barbarian could associate with an Imperial Candidate or die painfully.
Message would not speak to me, and Drozen left in a maniacal fury.
Little did I know that Drozen would come back and this time not as a loving suitor.
The Imperial Candidacy went on, and it was between me and Message to be ruler.
I thought Message would win it, but the Brethren never got to pick.
They handed the Advocate Council the paper with their choice, but she never opened it.
Drozen interrupted the proceedings, and captured us both to his Alieno-Machine.
This is what happens when true love turned into violent vengeance, I would never forget that scream.
He destroyed our planet, and took Message to a load to lock her inside.
And as for me he said, Drent you will be a Teremi Mercanary, and if you fail Message already died.

So I came to Earth, because that was my next assignment.
But I did not know that Message was already there, and had broken out of confinement.
I resented Message for the destruction of our world, but I realize love cannot be forbidden.
I guess Message became a courier of the Dragon Power to become better hidden.
The Federation sat there stunned, and Breastplate-Bearer said, This explains so much.
Dragon-Man groaned and Lady of the Night asked, Tell us, how did she get the Death-Touch.
I think the load was so strong that it had a Gretian force-field and in the process of breaking free.
Some got onto her hands, and over time it evolved to become the Death-Touch on her fingertips.
I could never let go of the fact that I let down my Dahomeyians as a Headdress Prince.
Lady of the Night said, No don’t feel that way, and Breastplate-Bearer said, you really dropped the ball.
Boundaries, Lady of the Night and Dragon-Man both screamed, but Breastplate-Bearer continued, Good thing this is like boxing with gloves at all.
Dragon-Man then turned to Lady of the Night and asked, So did you get any intelligence that you heard.
Lady of the Night said, You can use your disembodiment powers to free her, and Dragon-Man replied, I gave Drozen my word.
Lady of the Night said, Well, there is nothing I can do, because Message just has to fight to victory.
Drent replied, I think now that how Message feels about Drozen, victory is not enough.
Breastplate-Bearer called out, Hey, should I take the cloaking mode off the Isotrain Mechanism?
Dragon-Man shook his head and said, No, this is our base we don’t want Drozen to know where we are living.
The Claimant joust was come, and Drozen and Message were both prepared.
But Dragon-Man was shocked for the first time in a while to feel fear.
He knew Message could fight, but Drozen was the Commander of the Numberless Clans.
They must be Numberless for a reason, but at least Message has the Death-Touch in her hands.
Message took her position on the Centaur-Raptor, its wings were spread out to its fullest.
Drozen also mounted a Centaur-Raptor, but when Message looked closely he was sweating bullets.
He seemed to be out of breath, and Lady of the Night taunted, What is wrong can’t get enough air.
Drozen fired back, After I am done with Message I will end all of you who have come here.
Message and Drozen head together each other Message had her weapons ready for combat.
Suddenly Drozen fell to the ground heavily, without Message making First Contact.
Message pulled out her Celestial Blade Saber, and yelled Surrender or die you fiend.
One of the Scimitan referees said, That is against the rules, and Lady of the Night retorted, Hush, you don’t know what you’ve meaned.
Don’t you realize that Message has saved your planet and many countless more.
I don’t think I did it, Message said as she stepped back with Drozen lifeless on the floor.

Can I have his head, No, Heart, No, Kneecap, No, Message and Dragon-Man argued.
His hands, You have hands, stop trying to be greedy and eat this splendid food.
Message huffed, He did not even have the courtesy to die by my hand, how rude.
Drent called out, So what do we do with Drozen’s lifeless body without power.
Dragon-Man replied, Put it in the Acider flames and let them have a feast to devour
Lady of the Night asked, Dragon-Man, don’t you have a pending court case?
Dragon-Man smacked his head and said, Oh yeah, we better get back to Earth in haste.
No don’t go to Earth yet I want to fight you all, the Legate said in the background.
And in the Voidful Midst the Covenantial Project was gathering the Federation without making a sound.

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William Wiley Dec 2014

The Game

Ah, the mercurial female pursuit!
The greatest and the damnedest game
What stunning highs and cruel lows
Where patience is lost and hearts are claimed

To feel the the pleasure of the chase!
The pursuit is worth the heavy toil
Great angst and fear are put to shame,
Eclipsed by sweet romance's spoil

But what is this? It seems to me
The playing ground's all bare today
Except for stone-faced referees
None of the players have come to play

I'll have to turn about and leave
No man can play this game alone
It seems an awful waste but yea
I'll pack my things and head back home.

I've tried to play a number of times
Prepped and practiced, just in case
There'd be another player to play
A worthy foe for me to face.

And we are made to play, and win
This game that we've all known and seen
This challenge, unequaled! Upon the earth
The greatest sport that's ever been

My spirit falters, as time marches on
Diligence, heart, and patience all wilt
I know not why this all must pass
Is this the thing for which I was built?

But I believe that someday soon
The pitch will shine an ecchoing green
And on that day I'll play the game
Against a player as yet unseen.

#love #frustration #patience #games #game #women #chase

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Johnny Noiπ Jan 2019

シ they sin daily [all the sacred mice]

.Hammer, Cup and signal.
     The first Russian is Protestant;
Continue with Molotov.
                              Molotov Powder "Alcohol and the Flocks"
In the Russian Revolution.

      It is connected to the eyes of the new oriented product.
                           The biggest letter on the world oil market,
the letter,                        A letter, an address of heart when writing a letter,
A letter, a letter, a word, a letter, a letter,
Today, today, today, today, today, today
Chicken, sheep, goats, sheep,
Kidney of a child, sheep, goat, sheep, goat, sheep,
Goats, goats, pigs, goats, pigs,      sheep and cows.
Garnier told us. What is the best way ...
But how is the speed we have?
Speed, Speed Speed, Speed Speed:
Speed, Speed Speed, Speed Speed:
The speed is the assembly speed of the circuit.
Humidity of the face is 50
The temperature is too low.                                             Of course,
at this level of competition. Is it a situation?
Clostridium Trophy Cafe-Restaurant Photos,
Butter, Butter; Shimeio, Misashi, Yukio Mishima
of course Of course, the "skin" is not proud.
Greek, Italian, German, Spanish, Turkish referees;
Russian citizens 60%;          | |          Please let your soap penetrate
to protect your dishes. Sometimes,        sometimes
and consciously using black toner for the node next to the product
Today, today, the face of the moon
To influence the rotten knowledge and understanding,     beautiful,
All in all, she wanted a girl.
Please play a brave soldier.
Everyone has to understand the ideas.               And with that soul,
                                                          that hint
And wait until you find a joke.
                                      Ironically, in extreme cases, they sin daily.
A young man learned this poem by his teacher.
Annie of David was among them.
After about 5 years of music video. |
These models are heat-resistant,
This is summer summer,                                                      cold summer heat,
summer, summer, autumn, children,
today will begin to reduce the garbage |
                                              containing the German island of native German
breast milk and Diana's tobacco                                       of the summer field.
Spanish, German, European, Spanish,
Instruments and verbs
So you can present a dream
Several vitamins that are athletic *******.
Or the frog returning to Bethlehem
Jackman Jack,                                  and all the sacred mice.
But you live in a country of nine years.
At the end of the week, a new patriarchal,
Marking Sign Sign This is a story of Russia, who?
                                                He said support for the game.
During the first test,
it was translated by Molotov of Russia.
In the autumn, Mussorgsky, 'John Hammer,                                             and'
We will slow it down for our health      |
and safety products,                             and we will learn to battle in Russian.
Experimental bronze muscles
The role of transport or its reaction
And Flexible, "Down ***** Stamp" 5 -
Marco DIAC Russian Espanolis movie.

It is supported by the eastern part of the mouth
In another place, a wise man?        New design
Privacy Policy Terms of Service
Mobile font size
Like me, letters and letters, letters, letters,
A letter, a word, a letter, a letter,
A letter, a letter, a word, a letter, a letter,
A letter, a letter, a word, a letter, a letter,
Skotomo Mesaggelos, Coupling Series, Umar, Unit ---
camera crops,
goat, sheep, goat, brown,
The best of snakes,
because I have seen the improvement to life,
goats & single children,                                  goats, goats, sheep & children,
goats, sheep and goats.
He wants to talk about a quarter ...
                                                              We all know there are no good plans,
What is the speed of Taikyin, Takakiqin,                                                 ||
Takakiqin, Takakiqin;                                       What is the speed of Taikyin,
Takakiqin, Takakiqin, Takakiqin;
Equipped with operator, contrast ring and star food,
rock, humanitarian lawyer, if any.
Please contact me, if you do not have too many colors.
There is no competition for the use of this society.
What harmony is this?                  What is the image coverage and function?
Shinje

Modest Petrovich Mussorgsky (Russian: Модест Петрович Мусоргский[note 1], tr. Modést Petróvich Músorgskiy, IPA: [mɐˈdɛst pʲɪˈtrovʲɪtɕ ˈmusərkskʲɪj]; 21 March [O.S. 9 March] 1839 – 28 March [O.S. 16 March] 1881) was a Russian composer, one of the group known as "The Five". He was an innovator of Russian music in the romantic period. He strove to achieve a uniquely Russian musical identity, often in deliberate defiance of the established conventions of Western music. Many of his works were inspired by Russian history, Russian folklore, and other national themes. Such works include the opera Boris Godunov, the orchestral tone poem Night on Bald Mountain and the piano suite Pictures at an Exhibition.

Jerusalem is a city in the Middle East, located on a plateau in the Judaean Mountains between the Mediterranean and the Dead Sea. It is one of the oldest cities in the world.

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Ugo Victor Jun 2016

8

I was 8
Breaktimes at school were the best
I remember the small field-not-pitch
Where we played football
Not as a game of 22 players
and referees and rules
It was a game of 44;
No, 46 self acclaimed stars
It was a game of the whole school
Everybody against everybody
Indiscriminate of ***
Or skill
Of height differences or body frame
Tackled by your teammates for dribbling too much
You could pick up the ball and run
Rugby style to the opposition post
Then kick to score and most likely, miss
Or get mobbed even before you get to the post
It was all so exciting;
Such disorganization;
So much fun.

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genderfluidlighterfluid Sep 2017

liberals hurt me

liberalism rots my brain and breaks my heart

emotions are cast as a lack of objectivity needing to be overcome and cut out.

emotions are not insight they are impediment.

a threat to someone’s wellbeing and dignity is cast as a difference of opinion, that we can agree to disagree that there is no target on your back.

while you are walking up hill into the wind with your possessions rolling down the bank, the world is warped into a frame, call it a “level playing field”

as if an elite group doesn’t own and run the pitch, profit from the rent, write the rulebook and hire the referees.

my poetry class pains me so much i have to write poems about it, maybe it is helping????

#liberalism #brain #rot #hurt #heart #politics

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Universal Thrum Mar 2018

Shades of Green

It's afternoon and I’m standing outside in a towel. I’m smoking a menthol cigarette, or rather the ****, one of four collected from the ash tray on the brick ledge sitting in the window by my screen door. I’m surrounded by dead plants, it was too cold in the storage room for them to make it, no heat goes there. The thing about dead plants, you can never tell if they’re truly dead. There might be a spark of life hidden somewhere. Sure the leaves yellow, become brittle, while others maintain a shade of green. I’m smoking this menthol down to the filter, my skin has the watery remains of a two hour bath beading in the late winter air. It's St. Patrick’s day, and the town will be filled with drunks, I aspire to be one of them. Yet my face is dead, I don’t know how to wink. The bar tender gave me a cigarette last night, in appreciation, I blew her a kiss, our eyes met, and in both of our faces, dead plants. I watched a gaggle of muscle bound monkeys in tight shirts pounding the hardwood of the bar, hollering in tones only achieved by men watching sports together. Not the birth of a boy, not the heat of ******, can match the sound of men reveling in someone else’s athletic accomplishment. I used to sit on the bench of my middle school basketball team, we only ever lost one game, it was a catholic school hit job, the referees in the hometown pocket, it was probably the first mugging I ever witnessed in real time. If you’re enthusiastic enough, people will keep you around, the key is to never let on that you’re faking it. That’s the art of social life, that veneer that only the true actor can achieve, being so deep in character, that you believe it as your self. This smile, take it or leave it, but if you walk around smiling long enough, people will wonder what’s wrong with you. I’m smiling, I enjoy absurdity, feigned or otherwise, just yell in my face a little less, or start throwing glass and make a real horror show of it.

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Michael Dillon lee foster ii Sep 2016

10

Hes fast.. that uppercut came out nowhere. its always the one you don't see that takes you down

9

Not sure how many more of those I can take. My legs feel like jelly

8

My right eye's bleeding pretty bad, hes been working on it all night and im pretty sure i have a cracked rib

7

This cant be happening man, not in front my family. I can't go out like this

6

This is a b.s. match anyway. There's two of him for christ sake!. and why do we need two referees!

5

If only I would have trained harder. Stopped drinking and taken thing's seriously for once. Come on lady luck I need you now more than ever!

4

How am I gonna face my girl after this. She's always been in my corner and i'm about to let her down

3

Well at least its almost over. I'll find a bottle of whiskey and hide out for a while.

2

**** that. You've fought harder men than him and you've always come out on top. Get your *** up and put him down. The loser is the man that gives up. That's something you've never done once. And your not gonna start today!

1

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Andrew Rueter Mar 2019

Fights

Hockey is the only major sport not based around fighting that you can fight in
And not get ejected from the game
The referees just give each player five minute penalties
Some players will use this to their advantage
And try to pick fights with players more valuable than them
Creating an equalizing equation
Raising their value to the player they eliminated
And bringing that player down to their level

#fights

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ghost girl Apr 2019

the loss and the longing

the lull, the longing,
the ache just before sleep
and just before wake -
the quiet, rhythmic
shushing, the weight,
the heaviness.
it's too dark, but
it's too bright, too
much, not enough,
too warm, too cold.
always too something.
never quite enough.
it's the swell of the sky
just before the rain,
the stillness and the hush
around midnight just
before it snows. it's
the creeping feeling
of change, of danger,
of letting go, of giving
up - it's how the winds
change, it's the stack
of papers blowing
away in the sudden
gust. it's the boys
who promise to
never hurt you while
they're untying their shoes,
unbuttoning their pants.
it's how they sneak out
after you've fallen asleep,
the cancer in the way
they kiss your forehead
just before they go.
it's your father holding
your small hands, and
your father's weight
after he buckles under
too many beers. it's how
no matter how many times
your he disappoints you,
you'll always call him daddy
when he finally comes around.
it's your father being the first
man to break all the promises
he made you and it's your aching
little girl's heart believing
him too many times. it's your
mother telling you to be better,
but never showing
you how to be better.
it's the way your mother tells you
to be safe but never teaches
you how to say no,
how to tell the boys when
enough is enough -
how fingertips creeping up too far,
how hands slipping down too low
should never feel like a debt to be paid.
she doesn't tell you how that sudden
vacancy in your mind is a warning
sign, how it's a quiet no,
and that maybe will never be a quiet yes.
it's the teachers telling
you that boys will be boys,
telling you that girls are mean
and to get over it and handle
it among yourselves because
there's no referees in real life.
it's lies that sound like promises
and words like forever and love
and ipromiseillneverleaveyou
hitting your heart like a brick.
it's empty beds and empty
houses and empty cupboards
and ghost towns in your chest
and abandoned homes in your
head and it's the way ghosts
never leave the places that
harmed them the most. it's
how falling asleep every night
feels like the battle and waking
up every morning feels like
the war and it's the way that
no matter how many times
you fight, nothing's ever won.

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Cheyenne Chenoa Jun 7

America The Cubicle

If freedom was a part of us
Rooted deep within our souls
Why don't we scream loudly like thunder
To vanquish these ignorant foes
But these chains abide around us
We see but do not speak
These walls between our neighbors
Serve as political referees

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— The End —