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Paul Butters Jan 2020
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.
Let’s have a really great show.
Let’s fly just like an arrow,
Faster than a sparrow.

We know we are the best.
Let’s put it to the test.
Prove we are worthy champions
From The South Pole to the Grampians.

Just see our motivation:
Our hope is our foundation.
We’re full of self belief
And going to cause some grief.

We know we are so great.
To play we cannot wait.
Once more unto the breach:
A win’s within our reach.

Paul Butters

© PB 13\1\2020. From a diary jotting 7\1.
Words! Rhymes!
Vartika Hada Dec 2019
The year was 2014
And I thought justice was delivered
I saw them everywhere
On billboards, posters, newspapers
And we knew humaare acche din aa gaye.
We were shown repeatedly how congress was corrupted
How one party changed the face of this country,
And how they are right, others are wrong
Us and them, I cared for development
Economy and justice
Swiftly, they were delivered.
The world saw us happy
But the reports are always wrong
Dropping our ranks
We are developing, they said
How far are we to develop? No one knows.
They kept the internet charges very low
So low that everyone had access
They had access to modiji ke foreign visits
But some forsaw what was wrong.
They were put behind bars
Some wanted justice, but She was blind to saffron
And we knew modji kaise galat honge
Not minding justice is revenge
Justice is unke desh me ghuss ke maarenge
And justice is righting every wrong.
Colm Sep 2019
Tennis is like poetry

Back ... and ... forth
And back ... and ... forth
Back ... and ... forth
And back ... and ... forth
Back ... and ... forth
And back ... and ... forth

Until one line breaks
A Rally
Matt Bernstein Jun 2019
A shutter clicks in flashing colors,
recording the imaginary.

The wheezing voice of tales unfolding,
now hoarse from an endless retelling.

Capture what we can't remember,
make up everything that's left.

A faint, but echoed, call to arms
that no on hears on set
Taliesin Mar 2019
Enfield punches the ground, wheels throw up muddy rainbows
from where they sank with the rain. The rider, some fresh young college thing,
flinches as it ricochets off his goggles, then unsteadily pulls away
wrestling with this strange machine. The old blokes laugh
with their propane cookers and badger-stripe beards, slick
with bacon grease and spit. Outside the beer tent
a kid fingers an old blues tune on a scarred and beaten acoustic.
Coins thrown into an old railway cap, her grandfather’s
smile golden in the sunrise.
Kamala sunbathed
****** art
where in
heart she
fly to
virtual beach
in LA
so Leroy
fell and
took her
task there
in Philadelphia
her adherent
of folk
from downtown
here and
ole USA
Johnny come lately
Tonight you feast,
getting ready to slay the beast.
You'll mount your ride,
and get ready for that slide,
into battle you will go,
running past any enemies that may slow,
down your progress for the two days you'll be gone,
until the moment you're back where you belong.
You'll concur and succeed where others have not,
your enimies will run cold, as your blood runs hot,
to sleigh them all, with your wicked spells.
With your words you can summon the strength to send them to hell.
They'll try to trick, and try to betray,
but you'll be on top and victor of the day.
I look forward to the tales that will be told,
because a warrior as fine as you, is among the most bold.
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