"dodgeball" poems
During a walk through the hallway
of the primary school
I find hallways
filled with turkeys and leafs and stiff scrawled characters.
What is Mr. Smith's class thankful for?
Flowers and toys and cars and dresses and pink and purple and soccer and skirts and barbies and family.
How could you sum up all of the things you are thankful for in one word?
At the end of the hallway I am faced with a choice:
*What are you thankful for?*
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What am I thankful for?
Happiness, and family and security and nature and
friends.
I am thankful for friends.
I am thankful for laughs and chatts and cries and sobs and games and smiles.
I am thanful for ****** contortions and 80s dance sessions,
for inabilty to speak.
I am thankful for hobos, eating on the side of the road,
and for devious scheymes of intoxicatation.
Hep beni anlayan bir arkadaşım var müteşekkirim
and who listens to my sob stories.
I am thankful for singing in the rain.
And styling hair in the sink
for screeching and howling
and hissing.
I am thankful for obkirchergasses,
for Ströcks and for ice cream plarlours.
I am thankful for mentos,
and walnuts.
I am thankful for bad lip readings and hilarious youtube vidoes.
I am thankful for unknown languages and nymphs
and for eloquence.
I am thankful for good taste in music
and for strong opinions.
I am thankful for dancing indian pirates with demon chicks and fireballs.
I am thankful for two-headed teenagers and barbeques.
I am thankful for God and healthy choice prayers,
and Hawaii get aways.
I am thankful for huge, hanging sweaters and crazy, funky leggings.
I am thankful for deep talks about the world's lack of beauty
and for poetry buddies.
I am thankful for dodgeball playing mice,
and poor old wenches.
I am thankful for pirate and mermaid adventures.
I am thankful for the looks we get:
looks of loud disapproval,
and whispers of quiet exasperation.
I am thankful for golden men and loud singing,
for crazy dances with crazy cousins and cute brothers.
I am thankful for Aunt Jemima.
I am thankful for banging on metal bars with rocks and shouting at the top of our lungs.
I am thankful for climbing over gates in order to not step on cracks.
I am thankful for amazing humanities teachers.
I am thankful for a laugh when the day is over.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How those kids manage to fit all of their thankfulness into one word is beyond me.
Even the one-word things we are thankful for, must be described with a million words.
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 7:42 AM UTC
Take me back to the days of a Ghanaian sunset.
When hope dwelled above the waters of despair
And I gazed into the eyes of a sinking soul.
Where trust and fear were honest and pure --
Felt in the mountains, cities and fishing boats alike.
I want the hot air, the mango juice dripping down my hand, the dirt kicked up around my shoes, the roosters in the streets, the taxi cab dodgeball games, the eggshell passenger rides, and the shy children singing across from me on the shore. Because I want it all back.
It's the feeling I had when I was there in a wide space so open -- it is a feeling I call free.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
Suited up as I try to maintain
In this ground cracking weather.
Heavy bags on my back
And artillery in my hands.
Goggles dusty
From the blistering sand
That slice my face like razors
With every gust of wind.
The scorching temperature
Is on hell and every breath
I take is so dry that my tongue's stiff.
One canteen, a few packs of food,
And a mission to complete.
My boots are laced,
With my feet feeling like people
Trapped in a burning building.
The further I go the more my body
Feels like it's being cremated.
I must reach my destination....
As helicopters pass through
Dropping explosives the size of a
Small child with the impact of
Several meteors hitting the earth.
Running like a track meet and
Maneuvering like a game of Dodgeball.
Gunfire, bodies, and thick smoke
As I bypass fallen aircrafts.
Approaching my target which
Will be my final destination.
BOOM! I found myself airborne to
Only hit the ground in unconsciousness.
BEEEEP! Is all I hear as I try to get
Up and regain consciousness.
Just a little over a hundred yards to
Go with a blurred vision
Feels like a lifetime.
As I'm reaching my target with
Bullets whistling pass my ears....
It's time. I set up my shot....
I hold my breath
Heart pounding with adrenaline
I'm studying
I'm focused
I'm ready....
POW! As my 50 caliber jerks
Back into my shoulder kicking
The dirt off the ground like a horse
At the Kentucky Derby.
MISSION COMPLETE!
As I'm going home with a bad case
Of paranoia and a Metal of honor...
I still have disastrous flashbacks
And ****** nightmares.
But....Nothing compares to that
STORM in the DESERT.
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
I **** my enemies
I got critical strike
on all my nemesis
I ain't got hybris
Running for my life
Running with my dear love
Away, dodging all problems
We do not get killed
We are the perfect team
To win a dogdeball match
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
Let's go for a naked dip-
my bathing suit is cute but so is my birthday suit-
oh egg head
don't fall and crack
spill brains and embryo everywhere,
not good for the kids at all
might leave mental scars on long-term memory
let's get tatted like good old native americans
I am Chief Awesome
you are Franchise Emperor
pouring fries and salt into my arteries,
slow, delicious death
why must thou be so appealing?
Don't be so stupid
taste buds are my best buds
blooming like beautiful bulbs in berry season
blossoming
absorbing flavors and releasing neurochemicals
oh so sensible and seductive
get a hair cute Mr. Scrutiny,
you are outdated and overrated
Power-aded lemon-tossed
concluded in cuddling under stars and blankets
blame the infantry
they couldn't save themselves
poor things
just doing duties
just not all appreciated
but we do the appreciating
graphite collages and collagen fills
spill orange juice on tables
perpetually sticky
dodgeball eyes
yes we will be friends.
Jun 9, 2012
Jun 9, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
Morning
the alarm goes off
I wake up
I turn it off
I go back to sleep
My mom or dad comes in
they wake me back up
I lie in bed
for 10 more minutes
then I get up
I go to the bathroom
and stare at myself in the mirror
I sigh...
I pretend to wash my face
I go back to my room
I stare at my closet
and decide what I'm going to wear
I get dressed
I go down stairs
I eat one of the following items:
oat meal
-Chocolate chip
-Maple brown sugar
-apple cinnamon
Whole wheat bagel with almond butter, peanut butter, cinnamon, and/or jam
cereal if there are any good options
-Peanut butter bumpers
-GOOD granola
-organic chocolate *****
with coconut milk
toast with the same things as bagels
I say good morning to parents
I argue with my sister
I drink my orange juice
eat my vitamins
bring my stuff up to the sink
go up stairs
I lie on my bed
I go into the bathroom
I brush my teeth
I go downstairs
I pack my backpack
I pick out some shoes
I yawn
I go to school
School
I go to advisory
We play cake(a game)
First class
I space out
I draw pictures
unless that class is of the following:
PE
Writing lab (if it's not about grammer or spelling)
Art
Music(Because all the string instruments make it impossible)
I go to math
I get too confused to know what the hell is going on
I go to writing lab
we write and then teacher goes into some speech about commas
I go to french
I have no idea what the teachers talking about
I go to PE
If we aren't playing soccer, basketball, dodgeball, batmitten, capture the flag, or volleyball than I ****
Lunch
Yay!
I eat
I talk
I chill
More classes
Art
I tell my teacher how much I love her outfit
I read the board
and I make art
Music
UGHHHH
THE TEACHER IS SUCH A GRUMP!!!
I listen to her yell at people
I play my instrument
Study
Almost done with school
I finish a bit of homework
Going home (Or going nordic skiing)
I get a snack
I do homework
I have dinner with the family
I do more homework
I get ready for bed
I read
I go to bed
Every day is the same
the weekend is just a bunch of chores
hanging with friends some times
and stay up late watching my favorite shows:
Bones
Glee
CSI NY
CONAN
SNL
Ugh I need a change.
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 1:12 PM UTC
His nose was Cairo’s Bent Pyramid or a pair of ergonomic pliers
And his loyalty was a slumped tower of Jenga pieces
And his skin was a film of thick oatmeal or cream of mushroom soup, coating the bottom of an untouched ***
His teeth, little tombstones sinking into the earth.
His logic was a pair of safety scissors chewing through corrugated fiberboard
And his insults were sharp staccatos
And his humor was a steeped tea bag or curdled milk
And his laughter was a Singer sewing machine choking on tangled thread.
His eyebrows were gargoyle wings
And his hair, a bushel of dry bear grass
He sang, and it was cough syrup
And his beard was a soiled litter box.
His fingers, dried seaweed
And the palms of his hands were month old dish sponges.
His spine was a curved dipper gourd rotting in the sun
His grin was a snagged zipper
And his temperament pad-less brakes or a wasp in September
And his kisses were apple cider vinegar and radishes
And his eyes were two bottomless stone wells, foaming with moss.
His gait was a vulture scrutinizing its prey.
His chest was the backside of a dung beetle.
His insight was a cataract ridden car headlight lost in a curtain of fog
And his knees were skulls
And his touch was a snug pressure cuff
And his compassion was a guillotine
And the last time we spoke, it was crucifixion.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
Messages from strangers
Speak of waging war.
Go play jump roap,
Marbles, hopscotch.
All are fine playground games
British bulldog or dodgeball
tag or kiss-chase....
What's the time Mr Wolf?
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 2:51 AM UTC
I appreciate you for kissing me when no one else would & holding my hand no matter how cold it was;
& for always remembering that i'm more delicate than your lips & this kind of love can only happen once;
& the fact that I always loved you more, but you somehow always showed me more love;
& no matter how angry I made you, you always forgave me because you knew that the ocean would sink itself if it could;
& for always crawling past the bad times, because you knew how beautiful the good times were; because you knew how beautiful we were.
If you ever read this I want you to know:
The one thing I loved more than your smile was the way you smiled at me;
& the reason I couldn't love you any harder was because I put all of my love into writing about you, not actually giving that love to you;
& I forgive you for giving up on me, I would have given up on a fully lit moon also; i'm sorry I couldn't illuminate the night sky every night for you;
& all of the reasons I couldn't kiss you as hard as I wanted to were all the same reasons why I want to die with you in my arms;
& the way you used to look at me felt like skydiving with no parachute on, or being the last one standing in a game of dodgeball, or sinking to the bottom of a bathtub that's filled with your love & affection, or running a marathon while running on no hours of sleep, or seeing the moon for the first time, or realizing that the love we had is more meaningful than any high paying dead-end job, or traveling the world, or feeling something for somebody they said was an impossible feeling.
If you ever read this I want you to know, thank you, for everything.
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
Birds of a feather flock together,
which explains why I don't have many friends.
I'm an outcast even on the island of misfit toys.
I'm your childhood doll,
we're inseparable until you outgrow me,
until you stuff me in the bottom of your closet
for me to wait for you to take advantage of me again.
"Best friend" is a foreign expression
when everyone you let your guard down for rids themselves of you like the shedding of old skin.
I'm the last one picked for dodgeball,
for partners in English class,
for weekends out,
for a phone call,
for a text message.
If friends are supposed to be forever, I guess I forgot to read the fine print.
I'm what happens when lonely is less an adjective and more a personality trait.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
I want to go back to when I could curl up in bed and Disney movies would make everything feel better.
I could watch Peter Pan and feel as though Neverland was around the corner waiting for me.
As though all the princesses really got to live happily ever after and I didn't know that their lives were probably ****
Take me back to when I didn't have bills.
Or rent.
Or work.
Take me back to when happiness was a simple crayon drawing of the sky and some grass. When stick figures were considered great art!
I want to go back to before I knew what heartbreak was. Or how hard it was falling in and out of love. Before I knew that boys meant something more than just playing dodgeball with and girls were more than just a pretty face they actually had your back.
I don't know how I ever thought being a kid was so hard when being an adult is so much harder and much more sad than being a kid ever was....
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
Playing outside
Do kids still do this?
Breathing fresh air
Getting scrapes
Bee stings
What happened?
Texting
Games
Facebook
These have taken over
We hooked cups to strings
Made our own games
Our social network was our neighborhood
To go back to those days
Get the band aids ready
Get your sunscreen out
Lets go out and play
Fresh air
Sun shining
You dont have to buy a game
Combine things
Baseball with a football
Trampoline dodgeball
Sockball
Those were the days
So, lets go out and play
And enjoy the easy things in life
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 5:32 AM UTC
when i was young
i drew hearts that looked like the letter "B" -
B for battle
- for bullies
- for boys who would sting me
a thousand times over
and i worry about my allergies.
when i was eight i was a cub scout
enlisted in a group on how to become a man
i didn't want to play dodgeball,
you stupid ****
i just wanted to sit back and look
at the other boys in their uniforms
my heart pounding like a moth on glass
i promise that i will do my best
to keep it inside of my chest
to try and suppress the urge
to walk over to peter
and kiss him like i ought to kiss girls
well, i didn't earn many activity badges
and i never won a game of dodgeball
but i've washed away the shame,
come to learn it's okay to kiss boys
like i ought to kiss girls
infact,
it's
*******
great
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
Today I graduate
I realize how short life is
It seems like yesterday I was on the playground
Playing dodgeball and other rowdy games
Picked last from the bunch but kept smiling
I was always the shorter one
The weaker one
Inside I always was stronger
Stronger then even Hercules
Middle school I was pushed around
Bullied for being myself
But I still stayed strong
High school I made real friends
I could be myself
Now I will be starting a new chapter
The book of life is only just beginning
I am the acorn on the tree
I fell far from it
One day I'm going to be a bigger tree
My life in a nutshell
Literally
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
L--- is the thick, adrenaline-wrought catharsis of a summer rainstorm on the highway at night.
It's the ridiculously advantaged team in a game of dodgeball;
and the hail in March as you run from work to close your car's skylight;
and the wave that rakes your hair with the teeth of the sand and surf;
and the pebble on the downhill slope that your bike trips over and you fly off, eyes wide and gracelessly flailing;
and L--- is the way you lose yourself in the cosmic threads of their eyes;
and the breath you forgot you were holding.
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 11:22 PM UTC
Curveballs can be hit,
But dodgeballs are impossible to dodge.
Comparing dodgeball to a summer’s day?
Shakespeare, try again.
Dodgeball, you are synonymous
To a hellfire confined to a perimeter
That destroys everything it touches,
Especially at summer camps.
I walk away from dodgeball alive,
But dead in self-esteem:
Always getting hit,
And any clever maneuver of mine always seems to be a violation
Of game rules.
Dodgeball, you only fuel my aggression.
When I am the only one in play,
And see beyond the half court line
Stronger, more agile and athletic demons
Ready to pelt their confidence against my hope,
My mind defaults to “bad-sport” ideas
And just wants to get the match over with,
Lose or win.
With a POW!
Or even the slightest brush of orb to skin,
I give in
And have to wait until opposing victory cheers melt
Before grudgingly submitting to a pointless rematch
That tortures me, vaccinates me with sulky feelings.
Crying over spilled milk is negotiable,
But I cannot undo the rash from the whiff of a dodgeball
By screaming “That’s so not fair!”
Instead, I force out good sportsmanship,
My eyes wincing, my throat and mind hardening
In the struggle to keep vengeance contained.
If only the interest in dodgeball would cease
And suffocate on the taste of its own humiliation.
Boy, would I ever love to burn some dodgeball rubber.
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
Fireworks are a blast
Until they go off
In your garage
With you trapped inside
Jun 24, 2020
Jun 24, 2020 at 10:24 AM UTC
the shadow in the corner,
looks at me, whispers,
and whispers, at me ear,
looking for a way, to
become and merge with me.
as an insisting parasite,
as a shadow inside me,
but futile, and vain,
i'm too egotic, to let him.
enjoying my years of pain,
as a heartless man,
but the whispers, share his
childish flashes, a futile pursuit.
to myself, to be merge,
with creeps, cowards,
and annoyingly vain.
the poets secret crown, of
lovers in heaven, golden and
invisible, but made of pain.
cover my head, as a dead poet,
passing at this era, not blind or
vain, but true, and loving every girl.
even those i hate, the sexi hip bones.
the ego of a lion, never can be merge,
with a creep, pathetic and weak,
but he tries still.
wise by pain and deceit,
a lover in the prime, longing,
loving, watching, smelling them all.
with or without, gauche or droit.
tout le femme, e belle et magnifique,
comme le pleure de madeleine,
le sacre femme.
and this shadow, in me ear,
wants to be me,and make them feel,
complete and divine, as a goddess.
as y make them feel.
or a lioness, in the hand of a fouling,
and feverishly beast. burning and longing,
for the tresor, in their chalis, as mother earth,
smelling as her, as a jungle, and a door,
to infinite delights, between their thighs.
the shadow in my ear, y can see her pain,
but, it was his ******* choice, trie to be me,
and didn't make it, for being weak.
as an adult, inside the veil,
of a mouse's in a suit, the persistence
is futile, a shadow, trying in vain,
to be as me, but can't be but himself.
a lame little shadow mouse, in loved,
with a beast, can't love until she love
herself.
can't live or know anybody,
until he knows himself, and accept
his truth, until that happens, nothing,
will save him from him,
and his shame, is a cross.
as a man, can't live, as a boy either.
just as a shadow, in my body, trying to be me.
but failing at it, to weak and vain, to be me.
all y think, as i watch her, is thinking,
and for this **** almost burn my ***
and destroy my life, good choices, babes
but all wrongs, can't be forgiven,
or excused. all the pain was
hell on earth, but still unbreakable.
and loving even those that y still
hate, the lover's love even **** haters.
covered by lies, y emerge from the hell
some girls create, for the one, who wasn't.
an they where never me.
and now anyone can see. it was only
lies and deceit, little girls playing dodgeball,
for the shame of the creeps
not everything can be forgiven,
as y say, good choice babes.
20 years later, they still can't be me,
or not feel ashamed for their weakness,
or accepting their fate, and being without
feeling a ******* disgrace,
but nothing to
be ashamed of,
just their cowardness,
like tigers not accepting
the stripes,
creepy shadow on my wall,
you will never be me.
accept it and be free,
or you'll end up blowing lucy,
in the basement, loving the burning,
of HELL.
as THE shadow of a mouse,
in Lucy's playground,
suffering, and being only
you, the one you hate.
but you never were me.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
A sensation
Of cold air
Shivering
Chattering teeth.
I'm back sitting by the chain link fence,
Waiting for them to pick teams for dodgeball,
Or basketball,
Or what was it?
"Fred" ball?
I remember looking for you.
Wondering where you'd gone.
It was overcast,
I could smell the rain coming in.
First time I realized,
It was late in fall that I remembered,
Snow had a smell.
And dragons and dogs and animals filled our days at school,
We played games, different name, same game of tag over and over
When at home I'd go back to the screaming,
To the cold,
To the hunger.
A girl and her dog,
Wondering what her friends were up to.
Black outs and ****** paper clips
Turned to livid men and bruised abdomens and hips.
And every other month,
During September and January,
I wondered what would have happened if I had
Given you that valentine I threw away.
I want to tell you so many things,
But how do I tell you,
How do I tell you
I care more than
I knew.
I was shivering when I got home,
Teeth clattering,
Bad day,
Tears in my eyes.
I put on my nightgown,
Your sweatshirt,
And wrapped myself in a blanket,
Wanting to hear back from you.
Is it odd
That I don't know how to say
You've made my day.
I hope you know
I was okay without you,
But part of me is a little (a lot)
More whole by your side.
And sometimes I think of your laugh,
Then and now,
And I remember
The butterflies then,
And the warmth now.
And it's just ******* crazy,
Because I was a little bird,
With a broken wing.
Who was convinced I couldn't fly.
You were the bluebird of peace,
I had been searching for
For so long.
And I could listen
To your voice
Your heartbeat
Your words
All day.
I don't know what this means,
But it's easier by your side,
Than any place I've ever lived,
Any halfway house I've ever been.
I've always wanted to belong,
And finally I can see
The problem wasn't me.
It was a me without a you.
Tonight I want to dream
Of spiraling sunset red and soft oranges
Draped over a background of
The most beautiful seafoam blues and greens
I've ever come to know.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 7:48 PM UTC
mother of the hour-
I have
no clue
which.
-
dodgeball, no one sad.
-
praying mantis
eating blood
from a bowl
of dreams.
-
toy phone
imprisoned
why, toy phone, has wheels
ask
your father.
-
here somewhere
my nose.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
the past
how frightening
*(i got to thinking
too hard today
this morning driving
by my past)*
the thought that what
we call tomorrow will
soon be what we call
an elusive yesterday
*(choke your way through
asthmatic games of dodgeball
and forward rolls on blue gym mats
friday midnights of twirling and
swirling through some
bb-gun pockmarked
plate glass reflection of the
lonelier girl you used to be)*
that the moment we
put a thought down on
a page is the moment it
no longer holds control
*(drown in the square idea
of blue glasses of water under
your chair and a thousand
and one calibrated mistakes
a one-millionth of a light-year
distilled to a drop of sweat)*
because it's just
plain gone and
nobody can get it
back except in retrospect
*(i think i spent a lifetime
of ten and twelve a.m's
sliding over the
worst of your tiles
but ten and twelve
a.m. are very different
times and that was a very
different lifetime ago)*
growing up is
the worst when
it's done in the
worst ways
a childhood to
exist and a
lifetime to
forget.
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
I could see for miles Up $ Up
Why so difficult to move
a smile stay put to raise so upliftingly +
A new existence a phrase
You could move miles 2- Praise
way up and away
You're voicing the big hit up___towards you
Mentally sing rejoicing
The slightest smile
Where did it go??
I see your smile sadly
Oh! No
Down
Move the frown
Miles way down
Smile*
Oh! no downward
10
09
08
07
06
05
04
3 times
Love me more
Amore'
Mentally
Chosen 1
On 1
One more chance
Oh! God
Godly wait the smile++
Welcoming so inviting
"The Meeting" his smile
How it timed us the door
Smiles hit us through the floor
Winding moving staircase
What goes up must come
down picking up
Their smile's the love pair
U-R going down
Somewhere mentally
Bonded together
physically
Hot-headed The Pillsbury
Dough man you are the
Miles of lovey
He's "Gooey Oh! Joey"
smashing
The cool landing
You were marked
"The Given" To give and love
but feeding the poor
The next time your
"Smiley face"
Brings___ more lifts
More gifts @ the door
Gifts of happiness
God first
Not always about being
first class
Having any luck? love labeled
Such a sprinkled mind
Mental telepathy
Mentally everything
Wearing his College
school ring was something
The bell rings
swinging jazz pitch
In school remembering
the lost and found
His eyes were striking out
Dodgeball telling her
He didn't want to lose her
She made the Robin Joy Fly
the home run became all her
She won him over the shooting
Stars "Godly smiles nothing
compare to their love look above
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
I like to blow bubbles In the rain,
to see them play dodgeball
with the raindrops.
And as they floats beyond my sight,
I see the sunrays glisten off them,
Pocket rainbows floating above my head.
Its the little things that bring a smile to a day
Apr 11, 2020
Apr 11, 2020 at 6:00 AM UTC
Mother may I?
Red light, green light
Tv tag
Hopscotch
Skip it
Riding bikes
Kickball
Redbutt
Dodgeball
Climbing trees
Collecting acorns
Raking leaves
Catching lighting bugs
Street lights on
Back on your property
We still have fun
Playing outside
Huge group of friends
Endless possibilities
When we were young
Can we go back to that again?
May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC
Trip or dive
Slip or slide
In the end...
Does It Matter?
Life is a game
In the end...
Did you thrive?
Or merely
Survive
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 7:52 AM UTC