Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
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 very satisfying. Ben's five year old son
is intelligent but distant. 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, very big 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 pissed and don't give a shit.
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.
Amy H Mar 2015
Sunday.
The coffee knows,
and my toes;
I can't move either.
Sunday.
House is quiet,
after the riot;
it's a breather.
Monday.
Comes too fast,
a weekend passed;
not a pleaser.
Sunday.
Through a week,
your silent break
is just a teaser.
Sunday.
Feelin' lazy;
it's all hazy...
feeling lazy
marïama Sep 2016
In this battle for the freedom of our souls some may think
Maybe I should've let go long ago
From being kings and queens, Chiefs and Pharaohs
To Niggers in the cotton fields
To slaves being whipped and forgotten
We were stolen.
Stripped from our homes and looted of our gold.
Fast forward
Now we are doctors, lawyers, professors
But Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our tears
Our sweat seeps deep into the souls of America
So Don't tell me the cotton fields have recovered from our blood.
Fast forward
"All are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law."
They tell us equality is coming.
That it is here.
Then let you wait holding your breath
Suffocating.
Black boy shot and killed for walking down the street
Black boy whipped and beaten for looking master in the eye
Tell me are you still holding your breath?
Still suffocating
Still waiting for the keys to our chains
Fast forward
Black lives matter
All roads torn down, we've paved new paths  
Stripped from our houses so we built homes
Lotted for our gold but we are golden
Black is hard to get rid of, that annoying stain that stays to long
Black is rough and tough
Black is solid in luring ways
But
Black lives won't matter until we love our own people
Black lives won't. matter. to. them. because you've called that girl a "Hoe or Thot"
Black lives won't matter until we stop the black on black blood splatter
For black lives to matter...
We must empower each other
Standing together the ground will break recognizing he whose tears, sweat and blood upon which it was built
So take one look at our past
Because this will be the last
Patrick Forrest Jun 2013
There's something so satisfying
About eating fast food in front of a gym.
Whether it's about watching other people
On their endless cycle of self improvement
And disappointment,
Or slowly embracing your own failures.

There's something about eating McDonalds
At four in the morning
Near the beach
Which says that you've really given up,
As the salty air floods your lungs
And the cholesterol hardens in your veins.

There's something about KFC for breakfast
After a long night out drinking,
Which makes you feel
Just how rotten you've become.
With your insides all rebelling,
Poisoning your body to match your soul.

There's something about eating fast food
Which is synonymous with the break
Of the human spirit;
And I'm so fucking tired
Of eating all this
Takeout.
Cori MacNaughton Jul 2015
Fed by waterfalls
fast and muddy from the rain
Calfkiller River
Second of four poems written this morning.
Our place is bordered on our eastern side by the Calfkiller River.
Beck Dec 2014
this world is fast
yet forever
love is strong
but complex
poetry should be short--
we don't have an eternity to read your thoughts
keep it simple,
just simple
DieingEmbers May 2012
Butter-flies

as the

bread rolls

chasing my hunger

away.
Ella Byrne Jul 2014
Holding fast -
To everything I've ever known.
I keep slipping -
Into old habits.
I'm tired -
Of being comfortable in this dingy cocoon.
All I want -
Is nothing more than
To break free -
And emerge, a new.
Written in March 2014
tread Mar 2013
The old world
died

with the rise
of

McDonalds.
Twilight Zone Aug 2014
Its a good thing Burger King
doesn't let me have it my way.
You should have to shut down.
If you don't start giving your
employees 10 dollars an hour.
Your employees work hard
like nurses and you don't care.
Burger king is a pauper in reality.
Your reputation hangs on a string.
You have the best buffalo sauce in town.
Burger king be glad its not my way.


McDonald's I am not really lovin it.
Your tomatoes taste like nothing.
They aren't worth throwin at you.
Your burgers taste like asphalt yes
its your fault for tricking me into it.
Your clown is in reality a monster.
No ones lovin that you make them fat.
I'll just remember the farmers in town.
When I'm away from you I'm lovin it.
Shelley Connor Feb 2015
At the bus stop on Praed Street
Just arrived on the train
Awaiting the  bus, in drizzly rain

On the opposite side
Outside Paddington station
Is the evidence that we are a fast food nation

Burger King, Le gourmet brasserie, Chelsea deli, KFC, Subway, La Taarza cafe, Bagel factory, Costa, Chicken cottage, Bonne Bouch, Victors cafe
I can't see much more
But there are further food stores

We must be obsessed
With coffee and food
Can this be good?

Our waist lines are growing
Our pockets are empty
Yet there's fast food a plenty

There must be a market
They are filling a need
Is it our laziness or greed?
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