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John Stevens Jan 2015
(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.
Basketball is upon us. The bleachers are hard but the fun is great.

Has been 6500 reads.
11-18-16.   16,100 times
12-21-16.   17,200 times
07-28-17.  28,300 times
05-18-18.   42,400 times
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Who in the world is reading this?

Version called "Baseball"
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1583323/baseball/
Michael John Jul 2018
placed indecision into your opponent´ s
heart-
an affair without end or start
but a cunning infinite!
a wheel of endless doubt..

a labyrinth of love and hate
that waves from the nights
and make past the very moment..!
suggested in  plain silence..


and the stayed magic of third word
light of rhythm and humoured..
-soon a rat inside a box
-thinking outside a box..

a vortex
lost
another´s thought
caught..
Marta Aug 2018
Stillness and immobility
They look just the same
But one can be bliss the other is pain

The stillness arises when the tension is gone
When the tension grows immobility is born

The blessing of stillness it flies high and wide
The curse of tension pulls the mind closely tied

Stillness and immobility
They look just the same
But one can be bliss the other is pain

In the eye of a storm mighty worrier she waits
Her opponent exhausted from the forces he breaks

From the centre she moves in any direction
Her hands tied only by one thing - affection

Stillness and immobility
They look just the same
But one can be bliss the other is pain
Cathyy Feb 2016
Flashback,
To that time we played blackjack
I was impressed by your ability to shuffle all the cards just like that,
&then; you showed me a magic trick with pistachio shells
Oh what a friendship it is when someone buys you peanuts and opens all the shells

Yeah confession;
You're in my sci fi screenplay
I think I wrote about you in the most innocent way
And theres a song that,
I currently have on replay...
And a smile that can't help but shine when I see your face
What a moment it is when you're sitting there on the bus and you just want to photograph it

Life's a chess game, and now its your move..
I'm standing on the front line,
I'm giving my horsey to you (haha)
Oh this life's a chess game,
One wrong move and I'll lose....
But here right now we're at a stalemate
All my pieces were going but the piece that remains, patiently waits
For you..
Oh with you I never want the game to end so soon

And I know that we can't fall in love
Cause we've got different ones for us
But what a friendship it is when none of that matters no more..
You're the chess opponent I've been waiting for,
You are.
Really like this one, its one of my best from this year in my opinion! Really personal references..
Umi Apr 2018
Whereabout of the heart, where might it be ?
When fury is a feeling which engages your senses, your mind and your soul in a raging outburst of negativity expressed in adrenaline,
Everything seems to be one sided, a loop which only fuels your anger with thoughts of unpleasant, disturbing annoyances, making it harder
Harder to resist, until alike a super nova, you explode in a viscious rampage with knows no escape, so, where is the heart ? Where is it?
A tantrum might be encouraged to grow in size if it's revenge you seek, desire, want to live for to make it expire, with violent passion,
Mercy or compassion, forgiveness and simpathy may be forgotten, within the depths of your burning soul, lit ablaze solely by hatred,
You may lose your mind, oh beauty of a living existence, becoming alike a lily of murderous intent, spiteful, yet elegant and wonderful,
A shivering star, ready to take its opponent down with itself while destroying what used to be so precious, unique and simply sweet,
Blemishing the unconscious without thinking of patience or the chance to calm this nuclear meltdown, unfolding in tragedy for us,
The pure light of your praying palms might help in this regard,
Because his remembrance is what makes furious hearts become calm.

~ Umi
1
Even the scene I was making was making a scene:
Rosencrantzandguildensternaredeadmachine.
2
I've been freed by friendlessness, so why do old pals
embitter w/ velleity a reunion can still rouse?
3
It's just I'm so swizzed by reading trueselfbydates.
Shawl, who is also called Pall; runagate who is also prostrate.
4
To the bull's eye, the hawkeye is palpable, tangible, felt
To the hawkeye, the bull's eye is palpable, tangible, felt.
5
Phone went. Atonement? Opponent. Alone meant
renewal of the same old selfentering entertainment.
6
Narcissistic conception: a privately bred clone
'tis my duty to bully, torture earnestly. One does one's own.
7
British Ionists don't even understand Zirony.
But I wish I was as simple as just contradictory.
8
Tragready? Incipit tragoedia: travesties hurt.
Like seeing my Riot Grrl swiothrrt in a 'Travis' tshirt.
9
Trillions killed during filming, fastforwarded orchids.
Cast of inexpendable heart oscitation deleted.
10
To einsof soft life on the air, we're lost. In the sour feast,
50 years' service is a ****** on the mantlepiece.
11
*******, mon semblance! Goose scry to the scaly
Torygraph; Presidented Gein; masSACREDad (God's Mochrie).
12
It takes CITV & CBBC & pre-DWP DSS & pre-DSS
DHSS to raise a child, not a Doubting Momus.
13
Dreamflounder, dreamfloater, dreambounder in a dreamboater.
English country Capgras bros. of a stranger in  an oater.
14
Nil admirari, ennui, omnui, zennui, nitchevo.
Yet buckaroo Love's hopingpong lives out my spermself's FOMO.
15
I foamed at the month, Lysember, annually,
for flavour of the mouth should be Oxyjanuary.
16
Sandwich artists, stationary bloggers & ancient astronaut
theorists all walked Jackonoryology in school reports.
17
'Sweirdly emasculating, like a tall grandmother,
how I cannot poetsplain the future or its lovers.
18
1,000 albino bishybarnabees rorschach the tragic
lantern: swarm th'only pattern of fatback TV static.
19
Negress of the World dreams of unio Mr.Car
in the cave of charades that's shrine to an umbra.
20
Afflatic calculus of tragic trajectories, romantic ratios:
lyricalgebra. Show my working: Statement of Aesthetics, Rothko.
21
Song of alien vitalism, Neanderthal Jesse Garon.
Prosody fit for Methuselated muse, Struldbrugg paean.
22
How clean is your dream disqualidayhome celebrikitchen
bug in **** conscience, Carol Vorderline? Pigpen's plugin.
23
Jack of Shapes, Jack of Ages, Jack of Doors, Jack of Cues.
Best of all possible Lords to follow? Serendipitous debuts.
24
The Devil writhes a kiddiefiddlin' schtick.
The Devil is a devout Catholic.
25
Pincered zen selfsparta builtsitting in what it's from:
cogito keeping its damnable cheek above fatsam & fleshsam.
26
I feel it so intensely: irony of ironies when I don't care.
Selffulfulling jelly w/ nothing to fear but fears nothing hears.
27
Experienshit, differenshit, definitely still ****, diffranchiser
of scheisser. Choken record: wist zither, aubade nebuliser.
28
You pick up. Seashellsussurus of a radioed purlieu.
Your crepitant crelp, monastic by virtue of ***** flu.
29
Bellybutton ash/blue & green dahlia: inner & outer bull
of bull's eye anthropocentrism. Both can & can't be too careful.
30
Hawkeye Bennu or other siderolite's solipsism
cuts short my nut cutlet nuncheon: absurdissimum prism.
Lipok Jamir Apr 2016
Erstwhile, i cared for none
But now i have a promise
To the Lord that i can be
As worthy as a servant should be  

The earth is my battlefield  
Amid in the evil, wearily i stand
A relentless battle to survive
Trying hard to stay alive.

Each day I'm faced with opponent
In an arena crowded with temptation.
Masters of the dark distort my spirit,
In their deadly game, i am but a ****.

So weak, i tremble with fear.
This unutterable battle, i am bound to lose.
Lord, send forth thy holy warrior
And save me O Lord, make haste.

He knows my every weakness.
My weakness his console,
But, Lord have mercy on me
For you said "My power works best in weakness."

Permit me as your lowly servant if i deserve,
And send me forth to justify the truth.
Nurture me under Your grace
And i will build in You a strong faith.  

As a roaring lion he may come,
But i will stand still and never move.
For i have faith in You Lord 
I will rejoice and forever be glad.  

Lord, make me wise
That i may know his cunning ways, 
Make a shield around me
And wrap me in Your loving arms.  

I will watch and pray
Lest i get weary,
I have a life to sacrifice,
A heart to give.  

Lord, have patience with me
"O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger,
Nor chasten me in Your hot displeasure."
For i am but dust and You are my saviour. 

I will prove to be your worthy servant,
I will honor Your grace and love,
Till the day i hear the trumpet,
In that day, i will greatly rejoice. AMEN..
Notes (optional)
The chessboard is patterned in onyx and white.
Yellowed ivory are the pieces she plays.
The King is in Jeopardy; her options are few;
Death’s Jet pieces are against her arrayed.
Her opponent is fearsome; a skeletal Knight,
enrobed in a caftan as dark as midnight.
Each move she makes falls before the plan
of the specter’s outstretched bony hand.
As she pauses to ponder if her next move is wise
Her spectral opponent assumes a new guise;
“it’s your move, Dolores.” Her opponent now said
in the guise of her husband, some twenty years dead.
By now almost all ivory pieces are gone,
leaving her only her King and one ****.
She moves to defend but no chance can be seen
in sending a **** out to battle a Queen.
Once more her opponent assumes a new face;
Her beloved lost Daughter assumes her Dads place.
She has fought long and hard; long past hope of gain.
Now draining fatigue saps the strength from her frame.
“Mom, it is time to resign without shame;
None can deny you gave Death a good game.”
Or in baseball terms it is the bottom of the ninth with two outs and two strikes in my mother in laws battle with cancer
Spread claims you are the only one who can stop corrupt politicians and their dependence on the rich (even though you yourself belong to the rich)

2. Spread lies and insults about anyone who might look like a serious opponent

3. Once you are in power, continue 1. & 2. and put your rich friends into influential positions in state offices and courts, give tax breaks to the rich and claim that everyone benefits from them. Declare any information that runs counter to your lies „fake news“.

4. Invent threats to the security and well-being of the nation and then claim you are the one who can solve all the problems by strict measures, like building a 2,000 mile wall against those criminal immigrants that threaten your people – what the „fake news“ reports as a few thousand refugees from neighboring countries who flee from misery and persecution and crime and hope to get asylum in your country of 350 million.

5. Cut your aid programs for the home countries of those resfugees so that the situation there worsens even more and even more people will try to run for a better life, and you can rhetorically justify inhuman security measures at your borders.

6. On a different field, isolate your country internationally, be the elefant in the china shop, break or end international agreements, destabilize whole regions, and then threaten to send the military – all of which, you tell your voters, makes your country great again.

7. Start trade wars with old global partners, accusing them of taking advantage of your countrty, and when your own economy suffers from such idiocies, calm your afflicted followers with federal subsidies that jolt the nationl deficit to singular heights.

8. Fire (or mob into retirement) any critical person in your government until all your officials speak with your voice.

9. Look around for a worthy cause to be the focus of your consoldidated power.

10. Start a world war and lose it.
Apropos certain current global developments ....
Ansley Jul 2018
Each player gets 10,000 characters (spaces not included)
and topics to base the words on (space is not included)
Your objective is to make your opponent feel something
(anything)
In a game in which you'd be lucky to feel something
(anything)
while writing.
Note: we do not know who your opponent is and you're afraid to admit the same thing.
No one plays the Rat Race anymore. Now we all play Words To A Friend, a game based off the hit Words With Friends, except your opponent decides your score and you can't leave the game.
Robert Ronnow Apr 2018
What a city I murmur to myself looking at its map.
We approached the city known as Dis,
with its vast army and its burdened citizens.
At last we reached the moats
dug deep around the dismal city.
What destroys the poetry of a city?
Automobiles destroy it,
and they destroy more than the poetry.
Dante and Virgil chased by 7 or 8 dangerous devils
Grumpy, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, ***** . . .
Then there’s Aaron whose Latin teacher announced to the whole class
he got a poor participation grade because he acts like a *****.
Our heroes reduced from metaphysical philosophers
interested in god and what man has done to man
to improvising primitive tools for survival.
Hope abandoned, we rate our chances of expiring
in the nuclear fire – excellent –
during the decline of western civilization.

On the other hand, I hope
our current problems are only temporary
and it’s just a matter of time until
the public learns to ignore the 24-hour news cycle.
Bad news sells
but the good life’s all around us.
One feels love and devotion
even for the 60 million who voted for our opponent.
Vaclav Havel said
with a wisdom well beyond brilliance:
“Either we have hope within us or we don’t.
It is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not dependent
on some particular observation of the world
or estimate of the situation.
It is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart
that transcends the world as it’s immediately experienced.
It is not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense
no matter how it turns out.”

It resembles grief. But it's not quite grief. I'll give you grief.
Certain days planned to be eventful I look forward to for weeks.
Let the peaceful transfer of power proceed. The sorrow and the pity.
Never may the anarchic man find rest at my hearth.
When the laws are kept, how proudly the city stands!
When the laws are broken, what of the city then?
We are moving through some allegory between a City of Hope,
where history has been abolished, and a City of History,
where hope can be slipped in only as contraband.
Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching
outer space for an entity to unite us as humanity.
That person, or city, is consciousness.
Two ancient female poets are a revelation,
the clarity of their complaints: lost lover, lost city.
Our enemy eventually becomes our brother,
his misery lifted by coming to her city.
www.ronnowpoetry.com

--Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, The Inferno, Canto VIII, Italian, trans. Robert Hollander & Jean Hollander, Anchor Books, 2000.
--Ferlinghetti, Lawrence, Poetry Flash, November 1998
--Havel, Vaclav, Disturbing the Peace: A Conversation with Karel Huizdala, Vintage Books, 1991.
--Iyer, Pico, The Man Within My Head, Vintage Books, 2013
--Sophocles, Antigone, Greek, trans. Dudley Fitts & Robert Fitzgerald from The Oedipus Cycle: An English Version, Harcourt Brace & Co., 1939.
Nthaby Oct 2018
I can feel it
I can feel the cry
The cry to know more
The cry to understand
The cry to live
The cry to be free

I can feel it moving in
I can feel it looking for space
Space inside of me
Space to become part of me
Space to make a home with me

I am trying to fight it
I am trying to wrestle with it
But the war is too tight
I know less about my opponent
But he knows much about me
He knows where to hit the hardest
Its a warfare
But who has the upper hand?

I seem to be on the losing end
I seem to be dancing to his game
Who is in control, really?
How can a battle become so tight,
How can a battle become so unfair?
Oh we ask,
Is it even a fight?
But do we ever really know?
Do we ever truly know?
Tatiana Apr 30
How striking the steel sword is
when it's twirled expertly in the hand
of a knight from centuries ago
and then ****** at his opponent
finding the ***** in their armor.
How does metal find its way through metal?
Piercing the chest, flesh, bone, then heart.

Metal is for strength and for show.
Metal can make us fall apart, you know.
©Tatiana

I mini series about some homophones

Metal
Medal
Meddle
Mettle
Pockets of peonies
Replete with felonious undertones
This music sings through space
We upstage our own angels
Who have fallen into place 
To the depths of their fate 
They make a soft landing
Held by time's grace
They repel the light's bending
While biliousness bulges
And consternation compels you
Is it corpuscular or crepuscular
Neglect that commands you
To make your escape
Do you select denial
As a worthwhile opponent
From the depths of my being
To the depths of the ocean
The sea floor is waiting
For you to touch
Her unfathomable bottom
Its never easy to escape your prejudices
For the shadow is ever lurking
Beyond your uncertainties
We are all floating
On top of a volcano
If it never erupts
We’ll not know the difference
But if it does
There’s not a chance in a thousand
That we’d survive long enough
To heed even one of these warnings
Bo Tansky Oct 2018
What should I do with my blank slate
Write something about love or
Something about hate
I hate that I wait
Why bother to think
Just go with the flow
Write before you think
You can pause if you need to
For some rhyme to amuse you
But really, you’re looking for
Someone who will not abuse you
Someone to rise to the innuendo
Never taking offense, will defend you
I’m having a me-too moment
Looking for a friend
Not an opponent
I’ve worn my heart on my sleeve
What good has it done me
I think you’ll agree
It’s clear you don’t want to hear from me.
I could apologize for being me
But, why should I
I haven’t done anything
Except endlessly try to be a friend
It’s finally dawned on me
This was the end
So goodbye friend
I just want to say
If I ever offended
Pretended
Defended
I’m sorry
Please forgive me
It was only me being me
Maybe a temporary insanity
Nothing to get alarmed about
Chalk it up to my vanity.
Penmann Jun 11
I am just like Robin Hood
Shooting an impossible shot
When everything is lost

To sling that arrow straight
through the arrow of opponent
in my own bullseye.

Kick inside the hornets nest.
Wave to the pretty heiress on the stool next by,
Knowing i'll never get her,
Still the greatest in her life.
Somebody stop me.
Bob B May 4
Will Russia's election meddling ever
Come to an end? We keep hopin'.
But now the president blatantly
Colludes with Putin out in the open!

Recently, another phone call
Between Trump and Putin occurred.
Was Russian election meddling mentioned?
According to Trump, NOT one word.

But why would Trump want to stop
Interference in our elections?
If Russia helped him win before,
Why would he NOW raise objections?

He doesn't trust investigators
Here. He'd rather demonize
The FBI, while at the same time
He swallows all of Putin's lies.

Now team Trump seeks outside help
To hopefully tarnish the reputation
Of another political opponent.
Character assassination.

No maneuver is too low for Trump.
Will his actions come back to haunt him?
One thing we know: the Russians have
Donald Trump right where they want him.

People concerned about America's
Strength and safety should be upset
As Trump spins the cylinder
In a dangerous game of Russian roulette.

-by Bob B (5-4-19)
Jordan Rains Apr 9
Why are you hiding the words of your heart?
Tell them quickly, before the light departs
Darkness makes you sick, it tears you apart
All your hope departs, now you need a start
My soul says to itself- you're in no go-cart
Life's laying cards on table, don't fall apart
You're a superkart, it's time to play the part
Wear that crown of thorns, don't end up ****
Beat your counterpart, all you can outsmart
Set yourself apart from em, you're Blackheart

I used to be the Arclight, one that spark fights
If I write the same **** once again, that's trite
Now I'm picking up the words with hindsight
Life's a long *** flight, you know that's right
Used to hard-start all ways, yeah, I ran quite!
Now I start hard always, even on a dark night
I am not scared of the dark, I'm a Dark Knight
Need flashlights? No, I don't, Thanks, Dwight!
I don't lack sight, when I look I see stars light
Up in the sky, I feel high like I'm in a dank site

I'm **** right, my flight ain't gonna descend
The voices in my head builds predicaments
No matter what, I'll never go round the bend
The monster under my bed- him I'll apprehend
For the time he spend pretending as my friend
Adding fuel to the fire, slowly to the fire I blend
Now a Dark Phoenix, I'm breathing fire, I ascend
Deep in my heart I know, anything I can mend
I fend for myself, he'll always be my opponent
So I'll keep this fight going untill I see the end
Anna Nov 2018
I desperately ransack
Crumpled sheets and pillows
Hunting for you
At any time of day
As the sun glares at me
Shining rays of duty onto
My faded features
And bloodshot eyes

When I can't find you
Sparks bury under my skin
But when I turn
It's just the sunlight
Turning me into liquid wax
My eyes dissolve but
I don't care
They deserve to be punished

You're always out at night
I ring the bell so much
That I get tinnitus
But sacrificing my hearing
Is all for nothing
Because you leave my offering
Bleeding in its temple
The scornful God you are

You want me to use pills
To hunt you down but
I won't satisfy your desires
I know you like a game
But your opponent
Is apathetic towards life
Your worst fear
How can you twist numbness?

So we intertwine
A symbiotic relationship
You need me to have you
To exist as an action
This brinkmanship
Might push me to the edge
But I can live on the brink
Can you?
Whenever I get anxious it's always super hard to sleep, and the desperation for sleep sometimes comes close to insanity. It also feels like a game that you can't win and your strategies become crazier and crazier.
Classy J Jan 13
Making an *** of myself while asking myself, does cash moo when these cows Plow over poor fools?
In Cotten fields with brothers floundering,
But still gotta give grace even if monsters starve ya to death.
For they only concerned about cashing their cheque’s, and saving their necks.
Such is the carnal nature of wendigo’s,
Who egos keep em entitled and keeps the dough only flowing to their sect.
Leaving us to fend for ourselves in the wrong neck of the woods.
Evil twisted as some ******* story of a necessary moral good,
With these dark fascist crow puppeteers designing the hood.
Whilst demons like Regan test us like lab rats, pushing pills down our throats with police beating us with batons to our backs.
Backs that built the foundation for these pigs to thrive on while they watch as we slowly die.
Maybe that’s why the hood is also known as the projects.
A project for white supremacists to always have a usual suspect.
Should’ve known my skin colour would get me shot down for nothing like Malcolm x.
Assassinated because we’re deemed as a threat, So how can we live good lives when the cards have already been set?
Man!
I thought that the police was supposed to serve and protect, but corruption comes in and now a brother got to protect his neck.
Maybe that’s why ain’t a **** thing changes?
When one’s race determines the length of their jail sentences.
When ones gender determines whether or not another gets away with ****.
For goodness sake!
Devil please take a hike!
And God please give me the strength to cut up all this red tape!
Because at this rate, society will end up worse then the Scorpion album from drake!
Cause we just like his secret love child for we are in need of some ******* support.
Life is a *****, for if it was a **** star it would be easy but also expensive like a private resort.
So unless you actually started from the bottom it might be impossible to make the charts.
So when life is weighing you down, at least you never had to **** the ***** of a tattooed clown.
In order to try on a Burger King crown,
Then Letting one’s ego run wild and as a result your music becomes watered down.
But every day one a tone’s ah for their sins ah, and for drake it was the coffin Pusha T buried him in ah!
****! Fatality!
Such is the price when one makes a fatal mistake.
For you can’t have everything and that slice of cake!
You can be a model all you want but it doesn’t change the fact that your fake!
Just a manufactured mannequin pushed out at a flat rate.
For uniqueness is just a moded state.
And for the most part we are all bargain bin plastic sheep.
Man humbleness makes ones knees weak.
But loss or gain is all just something that we reap.
So be careful what you seek.
And be sure not to advantage of the meek.
Or else you will get put through a saw mill.
For if you underestimate your opponent you’ll be killed.
For real though man I swear this world has no chill!
Bob B May 7
Dear Donald, I have to say
How much I love our private jokes,
Especially the one that we
Both have called the Russian hoax.

You have learned a lot from me.
Fortunately, you're on my team.
All the power that I have
For you, however, is just a dream.

But keep up your strategy
Of duping the public. True, you'll find
You cannot fool everyone.
But there's one thing to bear in mind:

The more you condemn your nasty critics
And put the critical press on trial,
The more power you'll have. Can you--
While reading this-- see me smile?

The 2020 election will be
Very important. We can thwart
Your Democratic opponent, so
Let me know if you need support.

If you say a cloud has been lifted,
Then I think we both agree
That if you lift some sanctions, you'll
Lift the cloud that's over me.

I like how your trust in me
Overshadows the trust in your own
Experts there. For more advice,
Call me on the telephone.

By the way, I have to say,
I'm still counting every hour
Till I can have my penthouse view
From high atop your Moscow tower.

I'll support you, by the way,
But don't ask me to be your caddie.
I can dig up dirt on any-
One you want. Your friend, Vladdy.

-by Bob B (5-7-19)
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