"basketball" poems
Everyone is scared of Death.
I'm petrified of Death.
But am I scared to die?
No,
no, I am not. I welcome the end with open arms.
At night I shudder under my blanket
dreaming of the paths that Death leaves
in its wake.
In the darkness of my room with thunderstorms inside my head,
I fear the hole that is left
after Death has struck.
I wonder what,
who, might come out of it:
**Depression, Mourning, Sorrow, Confusion, Emptiness,
and even more Death.**
I miss the good old days
when Life could be as easy as
going to bed at night worrying
about what Pokemon version to get,
how to get the latest game console,
what skill in basketball I need to improve in,
when my parents will find out I had an infraction,
how the test next day will go.
But it's funny, Life,
the more you grow in it
the more you approach Death.
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
(c) 01-25-15
The cold has come
What once was green , now brown.
The air is cool
Promise of Spring to come.
Boys are gathered
Practice begins
for the games
to see who wins.
The ball is passed
Ball aloft at last.
Through the hoop
the points are cast.
They finesse the ball
as they pass and trick.
To out wit the opponent
as the clock does tick.
They win they lose
this season thus far.
Led by great coaches
has been better than par.
When the games are done
whether lost or won.
It is all in the fun
As they have a great run.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
Bouncing
An orange ball
Repeatedly against the floor.
Fake left.
Run right.
Pass.
Reverse.
Shoot.
Miss.
Rebound.
Repeat.
We must all be mad,
For we are doing
The same thing,
Over and over again,
And expecting a different result.
Lose the ball.
Run down the court.
Fast break.
Sprint.
Shot blocked.
Run back.
We run ourselves
Out.
To put a
Big orange ball
In a small white net.
And love every minute of it.
Back on offense.
Call the play.
Set a pick.
Roll to the basket.
Get the ball.
Shoot.
Get a point.
I don't know
What I would do
Without this madness
This again and again
This over and over
It may be mad,
But it makes me happy.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
Basketball stands for war or battle.
That's why I think about the players'
personalities, in my foxhole or squad.
Danny and Ben are fast and smart. Dan
especially can pass making him master
and commander. To defeat them as we did
is pst satisfying. Ben's five year old son
disdains to answer my question
Why are you you?
But I'm not here
to catalogue the men's personalities.
I like them. But each of us has moved on
many times, when ___________ suddenly died
the games went on with hardly a mention
and his name has since been forgotten.
But even this, absolute mortality
of not just our bodies but our names
and souls is not what I came
to talk about. Yesterday, between games,
I asked Joe how Molly his daughter likes
the high school. He mounted an impassioned
defense of reading as the indispensable skill
when I suggested math, the scientific method
and history are essential too.
Also between games
Bob diffidently asked why my kids are bald.
I was moved by the care he took to satisfy
his curiosity, concerned the subject might be
difficult. He's a political science teacher so
I took the opportunity to ask What ails
the republic? Of course I answered myself
wanting mostly to hear myself talk about Iraq
and how empire is self-correcting. For once I was amusing
I thought, treating the subject with a light touch
heretofore lacking.
But none of this is what I came to say.
A new guy, long quick and strong, a
bulldozer under the boards with a good
outside shot if needed got into a dispute
with the other Bob who likes to tell people
what to do sometimes, about an offensive
foul Bob called which we almost never do.
The new guy said If you can't take it don't
play under the boards which is what I say
when I'm ****** and don't give a ****
Bob said You've been pushing and shoving me
all day. I said He doesn't want to be
pushed and shoved which got a wry
smile out of Danny as I put the ball in play.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
I hate white people
who stop me from stealing their stuff
and bring in the po po
who put me in hand cuff.
Now I'm in jail
cannot post bail
eating out of a metal bowl
while being ****** in my ********
Then it occurred to me
what I am supposed to be
so I became a basketball player
and changed my name to Lebron James.
Chris Bosh wants to be more than homies
ever since I was drunk and he groped me
he wanted my ****
i think he was sick.
Spoelstra is an ***
I ****** hate him.
he needs to die
before I cram a basketball in his wife.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 4:17 PM UTC
He ran
Stopped
Aimed
And shot
Right through the net
Or
Was that my heart?
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
Where do I start
How should i begin,
I guess i will just write
until the very end,
I could start with my name
and where i am from,
Yes, I will start with that
and then more will come,
My name is Dylan
and I was born in North Carolina,
I am nineteen years old
but I feel even older,
I look much younger or so I am told
My days are long and filled with joy
I have a daughter
No, not a boy
I work, go to school, and am a father
I own my own business
As God as my witness
I have a beautiful companion
who is full of life
She is my joy
No, not a boy
My two girls are my life
one is my daughter
The other my future wife
My Passion is Business
My title is Entrepreneur
I love what i do
Which is more than most
If you love your work
Than you too can boast
My business is a brand
Perception Apparel is the name
I create unique Clothes
And nothing is quite the same
Check me out,
The website is the name!
Among my hobbies sports are fairly high
Basketball is my favorite
Still not sure why
Other interests may include:
Food, movies, and long walks on the beach
This is begining to sound like a date
I can't think of anything else to say
My life in 300 words
It is sort of sad in a way
My life in one paragraph
Yet i have nothing left to say?
Well It seems I have begun to rant
I hope now you may know me
There is not much to see
For this is all there is to me
In essence of time
let's bring this to a close
And if you are lost, this was my Prose.
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 9:36 AM UTC
Sour.
Bitter.
Bright.
The sky before the night.
The leaves in the fall.
The rhythmically bouncing basketball
The poet’s nightmare.
The fire’s glare
The bottle of prescription pills
The pumpkins on our porch, still.
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
Come see me
9 PM this Friday
In a park near you!
Come watch me eat ḋ̸̻̺̗͙̤͕̦͂̄̓̽̊̋͗i̴̡̛̙̯̗̠͇͉̼̲̻̅̊̃̍̆͞r̸͚̼̣͔̜̟̬̰͂̽̆̿̏͋̓̕͟͡͞t̄̍̈̃̆͗̕͘ by the mouthful at the swing set.
Come see me scream till your ears b̨̩̫͕̘̊͊̉̾͛̍́̀͞l̤̺̫̰̘͎͉̓̅̌͐̀͜͢ͅe̡̙͚̟̯͙͕̖̾͌̽͐̀͊̓̌̒͜ḝ̰̙̱̯̻̘̬̥̈́͗̌̀͞͞d̨̡̟̪̟̗̼͍͓̓́̈̍̊̇̿͋̅͢͞ as I slide down the biggest slides.
Enjoy my one man play reenacting the Silence of the Lambs!
(Your ķ͖̠͙̫̗̣͒̊͆̾̎̽̃̈͘ǐ̷̧̛͍̦̟̜͙̥͎̔̄̽̾͢d̡̡̮̗̜̻̱̮̼̊͒̈́̓̔̊̊͒͌͜s̴̤͉̲̜̖̻̈̆̓͗̾̓̅͢ will love that one)
Stand and applaud as I attempt dangerouse ş̵͇̲̗͒͋͐̅̚͝ͅt̸̨͙̣̰̬̩̱̥̝͒̓̀̓̏̏̓͘͠ų̷̢̨̥͓͕̉́͑̿̕͢͝ņ̸͓̱͚͈̭̣̬̘̀͑͗͊̆ͅt̶̨͇̝̻͍͉̼̎̓͟͠͝͠s̴̡̧̗̹̰̩̘͇̤̈́̽͛̊͐͟ off the jungle gym that I have only seen In Hollywood movies!
Watch me .
p̝̞̖̳̪̮̫͙̅̋̉̄͐͆̔̆̔̿ę̺͔̘̭̺̲̫̐̅̀̿̓͢͟ẽ̷̗͔͍̬͔͗̇͊͛̽̓͘͜͜ļ̟̬͎̗͙̫͎̇̔̂͗̓́͟͠͡͝ off my s̷̫̰̜̤̠̿̆̎͋̕͟͜͠k̴̢͔͔̳̬̻͗͑̀̌͂͐̔͑̊ͅi̷͓͖͉͚͚̠̝̙̝͌͊̄̀̏͊̑͝͡ͅņ̭̻͙̩̜̇̽̈́͋̄̔͡, and use my wet muscles as lubricant to make the roundabout go faster!
Watch me dunk your neighbors dogs s̴̢̨̘͎͉̪̪̦͚̄͋̃͛̊̆̀̓͘̕ȩ̧͎͈̀̀͒͋́̐͟͠v̸̦͚̠͕̏̂̎̔̀̊͆͢͝͞e̡̳̠̺̠̟͇͂͛͗͋̍͑͢ŗ̢̦͎̮͉͕͍̊̐̓̂͛̽̒̄͒͗e̗̩͚͖̫͋̄͟͡͠͞ḍ̴̢̲͔͖̣̪̾͌͗̀̒̄̄͞ head in the basketball hoop!
Have you ever seen a rat with no
f̵̢̣̘̦̱͚̟̟̱̀̏́͐́̍̄̚i̵̢̢͎̺̘͚̿͒̐̈́̀̓̌̚n̛͙̟̦̟͕̩͒̌̍͑g̢̰͕̤̝͑̏̅̆̕e̸̡̢͈̥͓͉͐̊̋͑̀r̛̩͔̻̩̮̱͆̒̽͆͋̚ṡ̸̛̛͎͕̯̳̻͙̏͘͝?
Would you l̨̛̦̟͎͇̲̼̦̱̠̓̀́̇̏̀į̧͎̭̫͓̮̫̮̌͆̎̐̀̽̎͌̚k̴̭̼̥̱͖̃̽̎͒͋̅́͠e̹̟͖̩̱̰̬̯͆͑̅̅͌͗̀̀͟͠ to?!
I
Would.
Come one come all,
to something, entirely new!
Enjoy something.... .
.
R̴̛͕̺̝̜͔̈́͋͑͒̎͆̏̓̒͜Ā͙̻͚̗͌́̃͂̊̈͗̚͞ͅW̶̙̻̰͙̹̲̗̆͋̈̇̓͜
.
.!
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 7:22 PM UTC
Basketball is not a sport
All they ever do is run around the court
The players use an orange bouncy ball
By the way, they're 11 feet tall
And the net is only 10 feet high
"How we gonna score, maybe bend our thigh?"
Saying basketball's a sport is like sportifying 4 square
What sports can you play while you're in a wheelchair?
Basketball's just an activity
So just dunk the ball for infinity
Don't be stupid, be a smarty
Don't go to a basketball party
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
Oh my it is great...
to have this headache...
after trying
to understand
what numbers are real and fake
I don't see
how this will help me
through my course of
life
Will I ever be
trying to see
what the angle of a chair is again?
or will I ever need to use
how to find a hypotenuse?
I've thought and thought
for a very long time
and came up with a list
of jobs that would ever
need algebra
Math teacher
Crazy Math obsessor
Architect
Carpenter
scientist (on occasion)
contractor
Someone who builds triangles
kite maker
someone who makes graphs
salesman/women
Too bad that isn't any of the jobs I ever want...
Algebra...
oh how my head burns
and I'm sorry if you like it
I don't mean to offend
but Algebra just aint my jam
I'd rather be painting
or writing
or singing
I'd rather be strumming(my guitar)
be sleeping
or eating
I'd rather
go play soccer
or basketball
or ski
Really I'd just rather be free
free of the confusion
I feel after class
of the helplessness
that I have
towards math
Oh how am I going to survive???
PS. I still have to live through geometry (I **** at shapes)
pre calculous (I don't even know what that is) and calculous (Ugh ***
I hope you enjoyed my "radical" poem!
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 4:54 PM UTC
What luxury to get mad
about last night's basketball loss
and watch the full moon descending
at the speed the earth turns.
Things could get worse
personally and for the community.
Bombings, killings, anomie
boiling frogs and witches cursing.
The changing climate,
typhoons in the Philippines,
volcanoes and tsunamis, WWII which I missed,
Thanksgiving nor'easter, Easter twister.
What abundance to fast or feast,
your choice, stay inside by the stove
or go outside, climb the mountainside.
Live in a city or small town.
So I raged at the coaches
for their lazy zone defense
like an alien in the bleachers
unable to affect the outcome.
When my sons came home
I yelled at them too. What opulence
to be angry about nothing of consequence
neither stopped by the cops nor slipped on the ice.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 6:13 AM UTC
Troublesome love . . .
will not let you sleep . . .
Sort of like a basketball game . . .
Questions are bounced mad and furiously
against the hard wood floor with only
more questions bouncing back .
Meanwhile someone is trying to steal
your dreams causing you to twist and turn distorting your image .
And you fight your way down
the court of life and toss your hopes and
dreams into the air and pray to God . . .
go in.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC
Shall I compare thee to a rusty basketball hoop?
I feel the same way when I touch you:
You’re familiar, constant, friendly, but apt to hurt me if I come too close.
Each time I cut my hand on you,
I’m asking everyone, Should I go to the ER?
Everyone is asking me:
Why don’t you get a new basketball hoop?
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
Basketball is fun as **** it gets the energy outta me
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
alone this time
Past seeping into you
Abuse painted over exposed
Stars burn my eyes
You see yourself
Breath of smoke
Lungs aflame
biting her ****** lip
she saw the world
Clasped the basketball with her left
Her pride with her right
Far away it seems
And I shout to her
but she never looked back
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 4:19 AM UTC
People consider basketball a non-violent sport
Well you should see my body
Sure I have the heart, and height
But I never seem to score
I have to pray to be put in
I feel like I'm just not good enough
But I'm gonna stick with it
Because I'll be good soon enough
I love basketball
I love my team
I love all the support
I feel like its all a dream
Thanks to all the girls
Putting up with my lack of knowledge
I really appreciate it
I love you guys
Thank you so much
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
I began my life active with sports and other meaningless award systems.
Girl's recreational soccer, basketball, bike riding, math competitions, the works
Today, I feel weightless
useless would be best fit
As if all the running, jumping, yelling, point requiring statuses pushed the light out of my transitioned life.
I find myself sitting in one area often, as one may do
But different than sitting on a bench or sitting actively in company of others
I sit wondering exactly who I am looking at
Why am I empty lifeless longing towards an imaginary spot in the distant wall
I imagine some events in these minutes of stoic despair
Hearing goes weak and frozen, in this second, while I continue my Sunday brunch with non-conformative attitudes and her mother, the sweet old dementia
I don't mean to have their meetings often, I must of first acquainted as the first grade trauma or the Broadway rendition of Alone Thoughts featuring the Broken High School Years.
I hope to work the wheels again, to end these meetings and to live for once, in the midst of motion and pause.
This time, stopping and starting as I please.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
I saw you from across the gym and the second my eyes laid on you I knew I was never going to be the same.
Is it possible to fall in love with a stranger, because I think I just did.
Your posture resembled the self-confidence that filled your *****
Your hair a blonde hue that I have never been attracted to before.
How could it be, you already have a piece of me.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, you see.
For you were already starting to seep into me.
Maybe it was the idea that I can feel love like this, for someone I don’t even know.
Or maybe it is that I looked into your blue eyes from across the room and felt like I knew you.
My emotions were wired, and my thoughts gambled.
I had to remind myself how to walk and remember that staring in awe isn’t generally socially acceptable.
I can’t believe I just fell in love with a stranger.
You tossed the basketball with such grace, it sliding off your fingers so effortless. Your shoulders broad and your stamina grounded.
The way you slid across the floor so smoothly chasing after the ball that went perfectly into the net.
When the smile grew on your face as your friend shot the ball, my soul felt warm as I looked into the happiness of yours.
Your teeth, strategically placed by God’s fingers. Resembling how perfect we will all soon be.
I can’t believe this is me.
Falling in love with a stranger, what else is new.
The second I saw you I knew
My confidence was back and I began to come to life again.
So maybe you were an angel sent from God.
Teaching me that I still do have hope.
Showing me that my heart is still in enough pieces to love.
What ever the case and outcome of this, I feel happy.
I feel at peace that maybe, just maybe, someday I will lay eyes on someone and know they will embrace me for the rest of eternity.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 3:09 AM UTC
Playing basketball feeling
the basketball touch
my hand is a cool feeling
Basketball
Basketball
Basketball
Playing basketball is
so peaceful I love to
play basketball and
feeling the basketball
touch my hand is a
cool feeling basketball
is my favorite sport
to play and watch
Basketball
© Amanda Kay Hill
11/5/16
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 1:37 AM UTC
I love baseball and football.
basketball, and hockey too.
Boxing, golf and wrestling,
but not as much as I love you.
Never think I put sports first.
You’re more important to me.
Now bring me a drink & pretzels,
and get outta’ the way of the TV!
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 10:39 AM UTC
Sports have rules
Down to every little detail
Zoned in and ready to go
You do this and this happens
There are memorized plays
Your mind reacts automatically
Rules
Every game has them
I'm good at body control
Now, controlling my emotions
That's a different story
I wish life was as easy as sports
In life, theres endless possibilities
You do this and you have no idea what happens
Baseball, volleyball, and hockey
I can play all day long
Life
I'm sick of it already
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
I stood on those old bleachers
at that basketball game.
my friends stood around me
huddled close
but I was alone
so alone
so very alone.
I can't relate to them.
I can't pretend to be happy.
I can't pretend I'm not thinking of you.
I can't make conversation
because I'm too awkward.
I can't cheer
and pretend I know how to play a game I don't care about.
I can't pretend I don't remember you sitting right there
on the bottom of the bleachers
talking to the one person that hurt me most.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
only wanted to enjoy the same unusual things
with like-minded people
the concierge of dystopia fnording *******
messing around with the octopus
cyberpunk nightmare with blue sky
expect a deluge and then wonder what happened to it
evaporated anxiety due for a downpour
catacombs rented by the hour
she typically cares about those
who don't care about her
abandoning me without consequence
don't ever come back
ungrateful swine of nowhere!
loyalty exists only in a parallel universe
where they locked themselves up
and destroyed the key
they feed the rich and ignore the poor
in the end the strugglers will prevail
and the ones who had it easy will suffer
game shows that punish the ignorant
rage that never ends
scoring infinite points in basketball
and still losing the game
only wanted to enjoy the same unusual things
with like-minded people
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
Red streaks of thin hair, finely cured,
Sugar-coded skin, sweet yet sticky inside…and then you sniff,
Freshly sliced with soft cries for help, the grass grows,
Dried in the most delightful setting; a miniature shadow of the sun,
The initials share a basketball in one palm-
-The pop from the stereo reflects the ripple of a king-
-----------------------0----------------------------0-------------------------
A complete package within, once the engine has revved- the liftoff-
Find yourself inside of her powers; the majestic magic maneuvers the mind,
Mend many memories and flick the switch on the motionless projector,
Guilty pleasures please the people and protect peaceful guidance,
Keep close the cultivation of a captivating lover-
-She will rise in your soul like helium in the lungs-
--------------------0--------------------0--------------------
She, who I breathe for, calls my name; forever entering the cave,
I broke off a chunk of everything she has grown to be,
Crumbled, chalk-like pollen, piles into mounds of distraction,
I set flame to the lone match and touch the wick- a silent sway-
She burns, her hair still a fiery-ruby blend, but like all living expectation-
-The ash separates and with the wind…she performs flips-
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC