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"coach" poems
fischers rap on a hot tin roof bristol creek pools over rock and seed english wolfhound (and the barkbuster) stroll pine lane vibrant colors of a cool spring in cob yellow and forest green field mice squander in cotton wind goats and ferret hold seven hour trim raven and **** meddle and forage (on a splendid fiaker goulash!) crickets and frogs hidden in swollen grey logs creepers fill the cut stone walls coy wolf high on a frayed white rope eagles perched at trudy’s bend catamounts laze on a snow base cedar (pared arbutus bent   through a failed ground rock) brush spider spins a timely web brown bears fumble at the spirit jamboree quizzical squirrels crack their nuts as pillow clouds float over telegraph trail 12 point dances on talus and scree hen hawks float in a big hard sun clydesdale and coach trot copper smith road (glancing down on finch and the warbler whistling through colander row) lavender fills the peat soil box mountain cats guard the heavenly gates black eyed ridge is wide and open the country squire hails this fruitful land
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Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 12:18 AM UTC
Welcome to the Shire
1445 Death is the supple Suitor That wins at last— It is a stealthy Wooing Conducted first By pallid innuendoes And dim approach But brave at last with Bugles And a bisected Coach It bears away in triumph To Troth unknown And Kindred as responsive As Porcelain.
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Death is the supple Suitor
Being a coach is hard Winning isn't everything It all stats during practice Arrive early to prep for the team The ones who want it show up on time want it The best players show up late Running bases conditioning for the game Batting cages to help with the swing Playing catch helping the team work as a unit Till the day of the big game Slide to the base with technique practiced Cutoff play to make an out Team functions without doubt Play hard play right win or loss giving it your all Coach does right by the team no need to fight Lets win and take the season play and do What the team does best play softball
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
Softball
Everyday I walk around. I don't understand what I'm seeing. There is Stardust in my eyes. It's fogged up my sight. I see how everyone is the same. With their Ugg boots, North Face Jackets, iPhones, and Coach bags. Just take off your empty frames and, Get Stardust in your eyes. See things through a vivid light. Get Stardust in your eyes, Be yourself and don't conform. Get Stardust in your eyes, And let your colors shine. I thought I was weird. With my off brand cloths, And no internet on my phone. With my black eyeliner, And my rhythmic soul. But my eyes are burning, I'm exhausted from hiding. I am who I am. I've got Stardust in my eyes. I see things through a vivid light. Get Stardust in your eyes. See the world as it really is. Get Stardust in your eyes, Be yourself and don't conform. Get Stardust in your eyes, And let your colors shine. Be yourself, you Are unique. With Stardust in your eyes, you see. Don't follow the robot hipster army. Get Stardust in your eyes, And Shine!
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Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
Stardust
To my Daddy on Father's Day When I was young and small, I was your little girl. As I grew and grew, I stayed your little girl. Now, 18 years later, I'm still your little girl. When I am twenty, Thirty, Forty, Fifty, I will still be your little girl. No matter where I go, Or how old I grow, I will still be, Forever and always Your little girl. You were my cheerlearder, Calling and whistling from the stands, Since I was smaller and tinier Than all those who played. You were my coach, Helping me and teaching me Giving me confidence Showing me what it meant to be an athlete. I took what you taught me And applied it to my life Making me, Forever and always Your little girl. You were my personal chef, Teaching me to love the finer foods And that cooking is an art. Healthy and not Food was to be treated specially Cooked and baked just right. Nothing has ever compared to what you have made. Spoiled and exposed to the best Making me, Forever and always Your little girl You were my supporter, When I was upset and had nowhere to turn. You taught me to be tough And to be strong. You said I could do anything, Be anything I wanted, That being a girl made no difference. You taught me to love myself, To take care of myself To defend and stand up for myself, Making me, Forever and always Your little girl. When I was small and tiny, I was your little girl. As I grew, I remained you little girl. Today I am you little girl. Tomorrow and the day after I will be your little girl. No matter where I go, No matter how old I grow, No matter where you are, No matter how old you are, I will Forever and always Be your little girl. Happy Daddy's Day I love you <3
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
Daddy's Little Girl (Forever and Always)
To my Daddy on Father's Day When I was young and small, I was your little girl. As I grew and grew, I stayed your little girl. Now, 18 years later, I'm still your little girl. When I am twenty, Thirty, Forty, Fifty, I will still be your little girl. No matter where I go, Or how old I grow, I will still be, Forever and always Your little girl. You were my cheerlearder, Calling and whistling from the stands, Since I was smaller and tinier Than all those who played. You were my coach, Helping me and teaching me Giving me confidence Showing me what it meant to be an athlete. I took what you taught me And applied it to my life Making me, Forever and always Your little girl. You were my personal chef, Teaching me to love the finer foods And that cooking is an art. Healthy and not Food was to be treated specially Cooked and baked just right. Nothing has ever compared to what you have made. Spoiled and exposed to the best Making me, Forever and always Your little girl You were my supporter, When I was upset and had nowhere to turn. You taught me to be tough And to be strong. You said I could do anything, Be anything I wanted, That being a girl made no difference. You taught me to love myself, To take care of myself To defend and stand up for myself, Making me, Forever and always Your little girl. When I was small and tiny, I was your little girl. As I grew, I remained you little girl. Today I am you little girl. Tomorrow and the day after I will be your little girl. No matter where I go, No matter how old I grow, No matter where you are, No matter how old you are, I will Forever and always Be your little girl. Happy Daddy's Day I love you <3
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71
You're the counselor. When certain players can't accept defeat. You're a minister. Teaching them about humility. You're the coach. A title that takes on many roles. You're a defense attorney. When parents gets enraged. Thinking their child's better. Then they really is. You're the coach. It takes a dedicated soul to give of themselves. When many parents loves to criticize. And refuse to assist. It takes a calm manner person to accept this job. Because many parents are releasing to you their child. To motivate them to be better. Not just at the game. But, as a person with kindness. Long after the game. When many will forever think winning is everything. Until , they lose to see the sportsmanship. Is how you handle things. You're the coach. In the mist of many fools wearing that title. Because some treats their players like they entitled. You're not afraid to bench the star of the team. Even, if many think you're being mean. You're the coach. Who's respect for your dignity? If anything states about you. That you would like. You wants them to state you were fair. Even amongst the dislikes.
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Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 8:24 AM UTC
The Coach
Julie had never been one to partake in Girly things, dollies and frills Julie was one of those tomboy like girls Who looked out for adventurous thrills She loved riding bikes, down the hill at high speed Screaming loud with her hands in the air But Julie could not play in organized sports Her mum said the cash wasn't there She sat on the  sidelines and watched all the games To not play the game was a sin But Julie Macado would spend her whole life On the outside of things looking in. She knew all the players on all of the teams She wanted so badly to play But Julie Macado would learn pretty fast She was one of the have-nots that day In gym she was better than all of the guys She sank every shot that she tried But organized sports was just out of her league She was still sitting on the outside Her friends that she played with said "Go see the coach", maybe he'll let you join up When she told her poor mother that that's what's she'd do Her mother told her to shut up "I've done my best girl, to give you a life" "And charity...I'll never take" "If you're gonna play then you'll pay your own way "For you learn more when somethings at stake" So Julie went out, hustled, working part time Doing all that she could to make bucks But, when she had enough money to finally join in The season was done...and that ***** Even though she had shown she could be on the team She was finished and did not begin Poor Julie Macodo was still not on the team She was still outside looking in She worked all that summer making money galore She'd be ready to sign up that fall She had enough money to pay for herself She was going to play basketball Her mum lost her job in early July The plant that she worked at had closed Now she too was outside looking in at the others They would move...that was what she supposed Again Julie Macado would miss out again All of her money she gave to her mom She would be an outsider for all of her life Never playing a game...'cept for fun Even though she was better than all in her school She would never be in looking out Until that one day, when a man from Kentucky Had come up to Freeling to scout He'd heard of this girl, who could shoot from the floor She had skills that he had seldom seen He signed her on up to a four year free ride It was all like a really good dream He told her of how, he had gotten a letter About a young girl ..that was her It was written in crayon and a little bid blurry And it stated out with a Dear Ser, the spelling was bad, but he read it completely It told of how Julie could play But she had not school record, no history so He set out to see the girl play He contacted the school and he asked them for game films They said she played only in gym So he set out directly to see for himself The decision would be up to him Now, Julie Macado has realized her dream Her life is all set to begin She did it herself, with a note from her Mother She was no longer out looking in.
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May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 6:20 PM UTC
Outside Looking In
Julie had never been one to partake in Girly things, dollies and frills Julie was one of those tomboy like girls Who looked out for adventurous thrills She loved riding bikes, down the hill at high speed Screaming loud with her hands in the air But Julie could not play in organized sports Her mum said the cash wasn't there She sat on the  sidelines and watched all the games To not play the game was a sin But Julie Macado would spend her whole life On the outside of things looking in. She knew all the players on all of the teams She wanted so badly to play But Julie Macado would learn pretty fast She was one of the have-nots that day In gym she was better than all of the guys She sank every shot that she tried But organized sports was just out of her league She was still sitting on the outside Her friends that she played with said "Go see the coach", maybe he'll let you join up When she told her poor mother that that's what's she'd do Her mother told her to shut up "I've done my best girl, to give you a life" "And charity...I'll never take" "If you're gonna play then you'll pay your own way "For you learn more when somethings at stake" So Julie went out, hustled, working part time Doing all that she could to make bucks But, when she had enough money to finally join in The season was done...and that ***** Even though she had shown she could be on the team She was finished and did not begin Poor Julie Macodo was still not on the team She was still outside looking in She worked all that summer making money galore She'd be ready to sign up that fall She had enough money to pay for herself She was going to play basketball Her mum lost her job in early July The plant that she worked at had closed Now she too was outside looking in at the others They would move...that was what she supposed Again Julie Macado would miss out again All of her money she gave to her mom She would be an outsider for all of her life Never playing a game...'cept for fun Even though she was better than all in her school She would never be in looking out Until that one day, when a man from Kentucky Had come up to Freeling to scout He'd heard of this girl, who could shoot from the floor She had skills that he had seldom seen He signed her on up to a four year free ride It was all like a really good dream He told her of how, he had gotten a letter About a young girl ..that was her It was written in crayon and a little bid blurry And it stated out with a Dear Ser, the spelling was bad, but he read it completely It told of how Julie could play But she had not school record, no history so He set out to see the girl play He contacted the school and he asked them for game films They said she played only in gym So he set out directly to see for himself The decision would be up to him Now, Julie Macado has realized her dream Her life is all set to begin She did it herself, with a note from her Mother She was no longer out looking in.
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72
A waif on this earth, Sick, ugly and small, Contemned from my birth And rejected by all, From my lips broke a cry, Such as anguish may wring, Sing, — said God in reply, Chant poor little thing. By Wealth's coach besmeared With dirt in a shower, Insulted and jeered By the minions of power, Where — oh where shall I fly? Who comfort will bring? Sing, — said God in reply, Chant poor little thing. Life struck me with fright — Full of chances and pain, So I hugged with delight The drudge's hard chain; One must eat, — yet I die, Like a bird with clipped wing, Sing — said God in reply, Chant poor little thing. Love cheered for a while My morn with his ray, But like a ripple or smile My youth passed away. Now near Beauty I sigh, But fled is the spring! Sing — said God in reply, Chant poor little thing. All men have a task, And to sing is my lot — No meed from men I ask But one kindly thought. My vocation is high — 'Mid the glasses that ring, Still — still comes that reply, Chant poor little thing.
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My Vocation
The Iron Horse can still saddle this Coach, Whose Extract nourishes the Children he trains: One the Golden Girl; The Other a Hodge, Transpose to the Miracle-Boy remains Two-Scores-and-Four his Dedication baits, Like Tunes based to emasculate them both Here in the Pillow-Jungle Success does wait Bending limbs into Sport; Then promotes their Growth What Circus! Said the Lame Artist envine Yet in Prayer begs him to join the Fray He looked at his Pearls; And saw that they Shine Which, suspend, trained his Boon-Dogs to obey. Hence, to Devotion his Shoes retire Partner and Career; In Big Thanks suspire.
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Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 6:59 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE: ANDY BANKS
I had Joe Willie from jump. The Jets were off the chain Baltimore benched Johnny U cause he knew the game. And played it too. The AFL was full of bells and whistles.Speed kills Three yards and a cloud of dust. Get real coach. We shootin rockets to da moon. High tops . Cmon pops. Change the guard. Them people ain't done nothing to me said Ali. Da Nang ain't my thang.  He was the greatest. Still is. The Haight was great.  Oh yeah Kent STATE. 1968. Open the gate to the house of the rising sun. Joplin. And Jimmy. Marvin and Tammy. The Doors and Hair. ****** in the air What rhymes with Agent Orange...... Nothing.
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Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 1:16 AM UTC
Age of Aquarius
With the start of the first inning as the wind whistled through the tree's Our short stop had his shoulder broke and the fates blew in on the breeze This team was a thorn in the side of the Harding Presidents Club It was on this night my son Tate was scheduled to play as a sub The kid pitching for North Union hurled a cooking heater down field You could hear that freight train coming as it's hide was 'bout to be peeled Their coach then rallied his talent pressing their shoulders to the wheel like natives dancing 'round a fire driving devils who'd struck a deal A death defying mid-air, catch the bounding, ball tossed on the run The Devil was in town this night riding in on the setting sun They dove and slid then nearly flew as if the angels rode their backs While running bases half possessed plowing the field with cleated tracks No one remembered the last time that our team had beaten this bunch That night they took the field in style serving them all up for their lunch , The dice kept coming up seven and oh prophetically so When the sun had finally set the score was seven to zero Come ye father's follow your child through the tough times every one For the oft chance will someday come when they will have finally won Tate © 2012 Tate Morgan Written April 12, 2014 Americans love the underdogs. original http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/1342622/ Original video poem of the same http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/1354978/
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Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 11:36 AM UTC
A Day In The Sun
I can't deny it anymore. I am in love with you. I didn't fall mind you. I chose this. I chose you. And I can't help but feel that I have chosen wrong. That I have chosen too soon. And it didn't help that you chose me as your beta. As your apprentice. As your most trusted photographer. Didn't help that you nursed all of my fangirl tendencies. Didn't help that you claimed to be my alpha, my coach, my captain. Didn't help that you made me feel like it is just the two of us in the pack. Didn't help that you verbalized my feelings and told me there is only us in the crew. That I am your first mate. The co-captain of a ship That only the two of us can set sail. The only thing is... I am the only one shipping us. And one day, you'll go canon with someone else. And believe me darling, those canons can sink our ship.
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Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
First mate
A shout out to LeBron For a big night in Akron A welcome win for the Cavaliers Tonight against the TimberWolves. Cavs finally ended the drought Via the energy they brought. Coach Tyronn Lue drew up a game plan That finally brought a win to the land. Both teams put up a spectacular show Leaving the erratic Cavs fans like wow! The combined 3s of forty was historic, Shot by both teams was really fantastic! Tonight LeBron played like a real GOAT! Playing great basketball from all over the court! The big block on Butler is not what this is about, But the clutched game winner fadeaway he shot! IBPoetry 2/8/2018
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Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 12:25 AM UTC
LeBron's Iconic Fade away
98 One dignity delays for all— One mitred Afternoon— None can avoid this purple— None evade this Crown! Coach, it insures, and footmen— Chamber, and state, and throng— Bells, also, in the village As we ride grand along! What dignified Attendants! What service when we pause! How loyally at parting Their hundred hats they raise! Her pomp surpassing ermine When simple You, and I, Present our meek escutheon And claim the rank to die!
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One dignity delays for all
Education is the ladder. Education is the key. Education is the mother of success. Education is the process of receiving or giving systematic instruction. Enlightening experience of learners. Learners stop making teachers lose the war of education because of being distracted by the social world. Boys stop believing in drugs and alcohol because alcohol is an intoxicating drink that slow down and depressing the brain. Girls stop believing in affairs and believe in education because your certificates will never leave you but boys can leave you and left you with gift of tears in your back. Study hard because time wasted never regain. When you are willing to learn you will stay humble and be the good coach to your friends. Principal words Time is money if you are wasting your own time you are wasting your own money. Remember perseverance is the mother of success. Education is the key . Education is the ladder.
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Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
Education
Brighter than Rudolph's red nose, My nose, like a traffic light glows. Santa could hire me you know, As his coach man I'd love to go !! Traffic stops when I cross, Puzzled police are at a loss. "Oh, those signals", they say at last, By then I'm gone real fast !! Winter haunteth the place I live, Not a ghost. (Ghostbusters do forgive) Tissues like snow, dot the floor, What's in them, I don't adore. If only this was Charlie's Chocolate factory, Where snow resembled sugary gallantry !! Maybe Santa loved Winter no more, Instead it entered through my front door. Homeless Winter, thou gifted me cold, And cold, a runny nose. I'm grateful, for I am bold, And gifteth Winter, poetry and prose !!!
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Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 11:57 AM UTC
A Christmas Cold
Stringbean small was tall and trim, Basketball seemed meant for him, At eight foot four,a coach's dream , And yet he failed to make the team. It seems at practice ,string bean small Began to chew the basketball, The coach screamed,"Stop! Don't nibble it! I want you to dribble it!"
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Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
String bean small
Cold temperatures deep snow there goes a coach but in the morning... Skiing,snowboarding sledging snowball fights warm pools warm sauna a happy life above the clouds
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Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 12:14 PM UTC
Alpe d huez
The invitation had arrived and I was over the moon It is really quite a mouthful, and it is coming soon The Second International Gender Non-Specific Inter-Denominational, from Atlantic to Pacific Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition It's been eight years since the first was won by China It was held in Illinois in a place known as Medinah Turns out the swimmers used were just not what they seemed The chinese had a total of nine atheists on their team So, the time has come to try again and bring it to fruition The I.G.N.I.D Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition No date has been decided yet, due to issues with each church So, even though the invitations out, we're still left in the lurch Saturday is out because the Jews are all at temple Sunday, the Christians all must set a good example Friday, cuts the muslims out for they are at Mosque praying So we've four days to hold this meet, is what I am now saying The Chinese team is back again, but the Atheists are out The team's made up of Christians and two Jews who are devout Their working on a movement that involves making a cross The Christian swimmers get it but the Jews don't give a toss The team from Israel's withdrawn because they are all sitting Shivah They had a coach drown last week, he hit his head while in the River The Arabs won't be back, you see they're not interested in the least They get confused while under water and don't know which way is east The I.G.N.I.D Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition Will take place in the New Year, we just need to get permission The Jews won't swim with Muslims, and the Sikhs are up in arms Because swimming with their daggers may cause other swimmers harm But, we've got a great location at the lake up at the park We can use it when we want to , but it must be after dark Remember keep an eye out for a poster where you pray We don't know just when we'll hold it, it may just be today This is your invitation and the event is coming soon It is really quite a mouthful, and it'll be held beneath the moon The Second International Gender Non-Specific Inter-Denominational, from Atlantic to Pacific Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition See you there...
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Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 4:46 PM UTC
The Second International Gender Non-Specific Inter Denominational Freshwater Swimming Competition
The invitation had arrived and I was over the moon It is really quite a mouthful, and it is coming soon The Second International Gender Non-Specific Inter-Denominational, from Atlantic to Pacific Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition It's been eight years since the first was won by China It was held in Illinois in a place known as Medinah Turns out the swimmers used were just not what they seemed The chinese had a total of nine atheists on their team So, the time has come to try again and bring it to fruition The I.G.N.I.D Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition No date has been decided yet, due to issues with each church So, even though the invitations out, we're still left in the lurch Saturday is out because the Jews are all at temple Sunday, the Christians all must set a good example Friday, cuts the muslims out for they are at Mosque praying So we've four days to hold this meet, is what I am now saying The Chinese team is back again, but the Atheists are out The team's made up of Christians and two Jews who are devout Their working on a movement that involves making a cross The Christian swimmers get it but the Jews don't give a toss The team from Israel's withdrawn because they are all sitting Shivah They had a coach drown last week, he hit his head while in the River The Arabs won't be back, you see they're not interested in the least They get confused while under water and don't know which way is east The I.G.N.I.D Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition Will take place in the New Year, we just need to get permission The Jews won't swim with Muslims, and the Sikhs are up in arms Because swimming with their daggers may cause other swimmers harm But, we've got a great location at the lake up at the park We can use it when we want to , but it must be after dark Remember keep an eye out for a poster where you pray We don't know just when we'll hold it, it may just be today This is your invitation and the event is coming soon It is really quite a mouthful, and it'll be held beneath the moon The Second International Gender Non-Specific Inter-Denominational, from Atlantic to Pacific Freshwater Synchronized Swimming Competition See you there...
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39
I Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the black bird. II I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. III The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime. IV A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman and a blackbird Are one. V I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after. VI Icicles filled the long window With barbaric glass. The shadow of the blackbird Crossed it, to and fro. The mood Traced in the shadow An indecipherable cause. VII O thin men of Haddam, Why do you imagine golden birds? Do you not see how the blackbird Walks around the feet Of the women about you? VIII I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know. IX When the blackbird flew out of sight, It marked the edge Of one of many circles. X At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply. XI He rode over Connecticut In a glass coach. Once, a fear pierced him, In that he mistook The shadow of his equipage For blackbirds. XII The river is moving. The blackbird must be flying. XIII It was evening all afternoon. It was snowing And it was going to snow. The blackbird sat In the cedar-limbs.
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Thirteen Ways Of Looking At A Blackbird
The windows down Warm sticky air Salty sweat Kody’s beside me in the truck She has a hatchet and I have a hand grenade We’ve just been driving around town Screaming **** the earth Screaming it at all the pretty churchgoers The school board members Her old softball coach I didn’t pay the rent this month Kody didn’t eat a single vegetable We ****** about 76 times She’s been painting really beautiful Its true talent Mom sent some mail that said she missed me I look pathetic trying to react like a son should I’m almost as free as you would want to be But what a God **** shame I have to wake up in a few hours
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Feb 23, 2012
Feb 23, 2012 at 1:55 AM UTC
What a Shame/
toughness - the drive, grit, and determination that I have to find will be necessary in days to come goals - have been written on paper will make me shoot for the stars though I may fall short friends - will support me in my endeavors and fuel my drive but some may doubt family - happy that I have found myself glad to help me on my way though mom is not happy with all the time spent coach - the man with the plan which I will follow though who knows where it will lead the combination - of it all creates a strong brew from which I will partake giving me the toughness to see it through
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Sep 4, 2010
Sep 4, 2010 at 8:29 AM UTC
Achieving Goals
When I was thirteen, I had a running coach. He was short, lean, and muscular. An Italian man with a whistle hanging around his neck, farmer's tan, and below his black widow's peak sat silver aviators, propped upon his shiny beak. I ran miles and miles a day, but, no matter how much I'd run he never followed. He always trusted me to stride my roads and lift my knees high during the kick at the end of the races against myself. "If you want to run you gotta drop that baggage," he'd laugh between sips from his water bottle as he towered over little me, panting and red. We both stood tall under the blazing sun. I couldn't comprehend exactly what he meant, I mean, I told him, "I have ultra-light, top-of-the-line shoes, compression shorts and athletic toes, a hairless chest for maximum speed, sweat running rivers down my spine, legs that never exhaust, and, above all, Coach, a spirit that can move mountains." His response, silence and a smirk. Who was he to teach me about running? "You're weighing yourself down boy, you gotta drop that baggage." It was his motto for me every time my time would increase, because, you see, when running, increase is bad. Except for hills. I can still hear his voice in my head, "Uphill, increase exertion." He never ran with me, he just told me to go. He showed me the route and I did as expected, six days a week, sometimes three miles, sometimes ten, day after day, again and again, shoulders hunched and me out of breath, "runners high," they called it. I hated running, I hated my coach, I didn't understand why anyone would want run to anywhere. Not now. Now, I love it. It has become my hobby, a specialty for when one grows up, your body is built for it, and your mind has been ready to run since junior high. It starts as a seedling, when you're barely able to walk, and by the time your cardiovascular system has been assaulted by packs of tobacco and rolled marijuana, it blooms green. That's when you realize: Running is easy. And coaching? Don't even get me started on how easy that is.
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Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 1:12 PM UTC
Timmy O'Brien
When I was thirteen, I had a running coach. He was short, lean, and muscular. An Italian man with a whistle hanging around his neck, farmer's tan, and below his black widow's peak sat silver aviators, propped upon his shiny beak. I ran miles and miles a day, but, no matter how much I'd run he never followed. He always trusted me to stride my roads and lift my knees high during the kick at the end of the races against myself. "If you want to run you gotta drop that baggage," he'd laugh between sips from his water bottle as he towered over little me, panting and red. We both stood tall under the blazing sun. I couldn't comprehend exactly what he meant, I mean, I told him, "I have ultra-light, top-of-the-line shoes, compression shorts and athletic toes, a hairless chest for maximum speed, sweat running rivers down my spine, legs that never exhaust, and, above all, Coach, a spirit that can move mountains." His response, silence and a smirk. Who was he to teach me about running? "You're weighing yourself down boy, you gotta drop that baggage." It was his motto for me every time my time would increase, because, you see, when running, increase is bad. Except for hills. I can still hear his voice in my head, "Uphill, increase exertion." He never ran with me, he just told me to go. He showed me the route and I did as expected, six days a week, sometimes three miles, sometimes ten, day after day, again and again, shoulders hunched and me out of breath, "runners high," they called it. I hated running, I hated my coach, I didn't understand why anyone would want run to anywhere. Not now. Now, I love it. It has become my hobby, a specialty for when one grows up, your body is built for it, and your mind has been ready to run since junior high. It starts as a seedling, when you're barely able to walk, and by the time your cardiovascular system has been assaulted by packs of tobacco and rolled marijuana, it blooms green. That's when you realize: Running is easy. And coaching? Don't even get me started on how easy that is.
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Even the longest journey Begins with a single step Tendulkar has waited patiently to be a part of winning the world cup The master has some incredible records to his credit No cricketer in the modern era can compare with him for merit Yesterday nearly 120o million Indian glued to the television sets Irrespective Of caste, colour, creed, religion or sects Dhoni and Co rewrote history after twenty eight years From the faces of Indian cricketers rolled joyous tears Cricket brought All the cricketing countries Unbelievably together The western Coach Gary Kirsten and Co were responsible For the Eastern thriller The great sport became the emotional healer and the gap filler And the greatest ever crowd puller Tendulkar has carried the Nation’s burden for nearly twenty four years So His team mates carried him on their broad shoulders Even Tendulkar could not help shedding his emotional tears It was really a great Moment for the entire nation to celebratewith cheers
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Apr 3, 2011
Apr 3, 2011 at 7:47 AM UTC
THE A WESTERN COACH AND THE EASTERN THRILLER