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TS Ray Nov 2019
It’s a beautiful game of back and forth,
showing me life is merely a game too,
winning or losing may have me trying,
so long as you have fun on the court, playing!

On occasions, I couldn’t get through you,
could you lower yourself for me,
Or are you asking
to raise the game within me?

Serving me a volley of ups and downs,
making me come to the net,
playing it on the rise,
taking risk down the line,
but, alas, life doesn’t give you an HawkEye.

Opponents may be many,
courts may be different,
conditions may be new,
keep that passion within you,
for you never know when the match point is on you.
TS. 2019
TS Ray Nov 2019
If he was with the Queen,
he would be her majestic Cleveland Bay.
But he was with me and
just as regal.

Knowing where to go,
speeding through the meadows in a flow,
judging when to stop with a whoa,
appearing to satisfy my ego,
jumping around the ponds and puddles to forego,
there was no turning or needing to go slow.

I didn’t have to tell him,
he didn’t have to ask me,
I wasn’t heavy for him,
He had a lightness around him.

He wandered,
pondered and
shouldered.
He just did.

Riding for a lifetime,
bonding for a good time,
just know it’s not summertime,
Cos my whitehorse
will be here in no time.

Come, run with me!
this sport is played
at a leisurely pace
no-one playing it ever
seems to be in a race

some are good
at the short game
whilst others are better
at the long

during the tournament
strokes will be calculated
to make sure the score
isn't deflated or overrated

what stick shall
you employ
on the course's
tricky ploy

oh the ball has just landed
in the thick vegetation
it scattered the birdies
which were sitting on its plantation
the competitors
shall be mounted on something high
and that something
stands on four speeding legs of ply

this particular sport
is presently staging a revival
as there are enthusiasts  
who want to see its survival

the outfits the rivals
wear are really heavy of weight
they must feel like
they're carrying a large freight

let us now hark back
to those days of yore
when the knights would
make a galore score

if you guess the
name of the sport
Sir Lancelot will be
your tournament escort
fiachra breac Jun 2019
this is not a game I enjoy playing
yet with every new month
I seem to get drafted in for one more round.

the team is familiar -
well, isn’t it always?
same faces, same bodies, same minds.

some months we swap places,
and friend becomes foe,
treading the same well-worn earth
we have all grown so accustomed to.

some months we draw crowds,
(who can resist? what colourful,
lively displays!)

some months we draw pity
(for who would watch the pitiful playtime
of university educated adults),

but one thing is guaranteed -
from the game is set in motion,
till the results are declared -
we will always,
always,
draw blood.
ah, the usual spectacle returns for another jam packed instalment.

see how grown up we all are! we neglect to communicate our feelings! look at our primmed and preemed words, scattered across many corners of the internet.

missed the action? fear not! the official soundtrack is COMING SOON (to a Bitter End near you). track after track of carefully constructed vitriol and bile, hand picked to reopen closing wounds. why waste a plaster, when you can pour vinegar into open sores?

music not your thing? no problem! read all about it with wildly differing perspectives and cheap hot takes; simply disengage your humanity and log on to the social media platform of your choosing. believe me, we’re all doing it.

and if modernity isn’t your speed, simply inform the same network of people immediately and watch as a molehill shoots to the top of every cartographer’s priority list.

you will be shocked, awed, and entertained. you will see tears, heartbreak, and jibes. and just when you think it can’t get any better, a few weeks from now, the process will start all over again as the next game gets underway...
Chris Apr 2019
Sport and reality TV,
Bad music and Turkish shows,
Why do we waste our eyes and ears...
The reason is unknown...
stupid people watch stupid people do stupid things and pay for it.... dearly
Ithaca Mar 2019
When a dog chases it’s tail,
Does it get bored after it catches it?
Or does it hang on tight,
Running circles through the night?

If I chase you again,
Will you continue to run?
Run away forever,
Some sick idea of fun?

And if I become as fast as light,
Will I be the dog that hangs on tight?
Or will I too get bored,
And leave your life fragmented and ignored?
I would give up feeling sad if my cat would chase it’s tail
RH 78 Jan 2019
Cross winded sleet....

                            Cutting across like pencil lines.

Droplets turn to a stream...

                            Down the greyed creased faces.

Mud laced skin......

                            Cloth absorbs and stains.

White washed lines.....

                            Defining all perimeters.

Carnage amongst serenity.......

                             It’s all over.......
My take on Love, life, war, sport, work..... we’re all bound by rules. I find it all fascinating!
ice flow
in river
there milt
on milk
island but
that gilt
below steal
bridge was
back flow
and rip
down quarter
as German
maniple wouldn't
impede this
on the
canal in
the junction
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