"varsity" poems
by
rgpage
in times long past young lovers dashed
to reach their secret space.
to kiss and ***** and plan and hope
their future's goals are placed.
never mind their path be lined
with unknown strife and pain.
their love is strong they'll carry on
with carefree youthful gain.
they don't see their life to be
past cupid's hot embrace.
as hot breath blends with kiss' deep
young lovers start their chase.
young love is hot and secrets not
shall block their youthful nest.
when young men dare and young girls share
young lovers start their quest.
its saturday night, dad's packard's right
with half a tank of gas.
with comb to hair in the bathroom mirror
he's thinking 'bout his lass.
its only been a week gone past
his greatest dream came true.
he staked his claim, with hopes on high
and pinned his Peggy Sue.
they talked of passages young men take
to cross that great divide.
to walk the way of their father's
and yes to take a bride.
in the grown up world so long past school
the grown ups just don't see.
teen love is true and made to last
the way it was meant to be.
he got on base with his varsity pin,
the base is numbered two.
this place before he'd never been
he hardly knew what to do.
his body went through changes great
his thoughts a swirling brook.
he cupped his prize with shaky hand
when before he could only look.
tonight's the night he's waited for
yes perhaps go all the way.
to walk with those who've beat love's quest
to become a man this day.
the time is ripe as is the night
it's planned in every way.
she won't resist his manly charms
WHAT MONTHLY FRIEND?
how long does she plan to stay?
and what's her visit to do with us
away from the lights of the city?
who is this friend to ruin this night?
his plans be dashed more the pity.
Dec 2, 2011
Dec 2, 2011 at 11:44 AM UTC
The heavy girls are too heavy
The skinny girls are too thin
The **** is perfect
The nerd is a try hard
The fangirl is a freak
The fanboy is gay
The goth girl is a *****
The goth boy is insane
The person who asked for help today just needed a person to talk with
But in today's society we only follow hate and gossip
That skinny girl can't gain wait
That fat girl doesn't know what to do
That **** maybe varsity but he's got problems too
The nerd is poor and wants to go to college and the only way to do that is through a scholarship
The fangirl lives in a fictional world because of the judgmental people in her own
The fanboy does the same and it doesn't matter wheather or not he is straight or gay
The goth girl isn't a ***** she just listens to her music and wears black
The goth boy isn't insane he just wants his happy life back
The person who asked for help today really did need it
But now it's too late for her and now her death has been completed
All of these people could be good or bad but you will never know that
Because in today's society we only follow hate a gossip
So the next time you see a strangers face
Go on say hi and see what they say
Some might stick their noses up and walk away
But for others a stranger being friendly just might make their day.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
Suicidal tendencies, alleged attempt in 2011
(National Scholar-Athlete)
Bipolar with psychotic features, meds necessary
(President of student government)
Anti-social features, deceptive, manipulative, lying.
(Captain of varsity athletics)
Qualifies as a pickup. Forfeits all rights. Police involvement if necessary.
(President of an all-star rugby club)
Extreme aggression. Any homicidal idealization should be taken seriously.
(Trustee Scholarship to a renown private college)
Narcotics abuse. Marijuana, LSD, Klonopin, ******* Alcohol, Painkillers
(3.7 GPA)
Masks and shields intentions. Deceptive with professionals.
(Active volunteer)
I advise that he be admitted to a hospital immediately
(Participant in community)
Drug abuse counseling, medication, extensive therapy necessary
(Leader of peers)
Diagnoses fly like a panhandlers love affairs
Your inexact science is a disgrace to what I've created
A philosophy based on your experience
Ignoring the dynamic of the human condition
****** for feeling to much
****** for not feeling enough
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
Sunday night is a dull hum
constantly buzzing in my ear
Sunday night is a broken clock
hands stuck at five to five
Sunday night is experiencing technical difficulties
bars of black, white, and other colors
Sunday is so high it can't get off the couch
was that somebody knocking at the door?
Sunday night is so drunk
it fell asleep in the closet
only to wake up thinking
this doesn't look like my bed
Sunday night is trying out for varsity
only to make the practice squad
Sunday night is a suburban strip mall
at five AM on a Monday
I took my Sunday nights
and poured them in a glass
downed it in one gulp
and projectile vomited
all over my Monday through Saturdays
I took my Sunday nights
and put them on a page for you
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
I go to bed early and am quick to rise,
my room is tidy as can be.
Heaven forbid I should ever tell lies,
I have no faults, or can’t you see?
Whenever my parents wish to speak
I turn an ever eager ear.
Never would I give them cheek,
that is too brash for me, I fear.
My teachers’ words are my priority,
never would I cause them duress.
I must bow to their seniority,
and never will it cause me stress.
Juggling six demanding classes
is such a simple thing to do.
That’s six straight-A passes,
a 4.0 is nothing new.
Exercise is an important act,
all the leading physicians say,
So tennis, soccer and varsity track
are how I fill the rest of my day.
But as each evening wears on,
after days that were just too speedy,
I am constantly drawn
to serve meals to the needy.
I always speak grace before we eat,
in the most humble and catholic way,
so for food, light and heat
and for God’s love I truly pray.
This is my third square meal
that I’ve enjoyed today,
with portions small so I don’t feel
that I’ve increased what I weigh.
Now to homework I must run,
with adequate time for all.
Equations and essays are so much fun,
and studying history I would never stall.
On the weekends my friends and I
have more fun than you could know.
Root beer and warm apple pie
bring us from sugar high to low.
Despite my perfect SATs
I am more than intellectual.
My drawing skills, if you please,
are much more than ineffectual.
And on the stage I am a riot,
My singing voice is like a bell.
My pirouettes and leaps are oh so quiet,
Is there anything I can’t do well?
Mediocrity would be such a drag,
why would anyone choose it?
I wave perfection like a flag,
it has always been the perfect fit.
Why do some make it seem so tough?
Isn’t this everyone’s goal?
The pure exhaustion isn’t that rough.
And all perfection cost was my soul.
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 4:29 PM UTC
Soccer practice, as always, was grueling
Sweaty sediment sticks until showers
But the adrenaline is still pumping
Really? Do we need to smell like flowers?
No no, athletes deserve a better scent
Testosterone and *** suit us better
Instead, let us take a moment to vent
Afterwards, wear our Varsity sweaters
Big game coming up-we want to be loose
Skin on skin, touching curves, the same as all
We do on field, don't you be obtuse
C'mon now girl, let's win, be logical
You know I cannot play my best
Unless I strip that jersey off your chest
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC
i.
The sight of it brings back memories of
Your rival team, confronting you on the line of scrimmage,
The rain pouring down, stinging your face,
Your breath misting in the arctic air.
ii.
The smell of it brings you back to that Friday night
When you tripped up the bleachers and
Spilled popcorn all over yourself because
Her red hair and bright smile made you stop in your tracks.
iii.
The clang of the pins against each other
Follows you in the hallway wherever you go,
Reminding you of that triumphant feeling
That took over when your basketball team won districts.
iv.
The warm feeling that fills your heart when
You give it to her, the red-haired bright-smiled girl,
Matches the warm feeling she feels when she
Puts it on, drowning in your scent.
v.
You know that years later, after you’ve left high school
And everything about that place behind,
The sight of that jacket will bring back all the memories
Of football games, Friday nights, championships, and her.
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
Red.
Like parting lips,
Shushed kisses.
Like high school varsity jackets.
Orange.
Like the shirt you wore
The day we met.
Like my least favorite color.
Yellow.
Like the lemonade,
So sour we spit it out.
Like summers we spent together.
Green.
Like minty gum,
Newly freshened mouths.
Like the grass I lost my innocence on.
Blue.
Like the pen I used
To write your love letters.
Like all the times we've cried.
Indigo.
Like bruises, covered
By jeans high on hips.
Like the nights we stained with lust.
Violet.
Like every single thought
Led back to you.
Like even the spectrum had thoughts of you.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 10:53 AM UTC
Mix hormones, sprouting hair, and teenage angst in melting ***
Add 2 cups of Varsity Sports
Blend in at least 3 leadership positions
Sprinkle AP & Honors classes liberally
Acquire obscure talent such as playing a Theremin
Add long-term anxiety disease
Brag constantly about how you helped Jakito, a small African child, on a mission trip
Drain all traces of possible love connection
Substitute sleep for academia
Bring stress to boil
Add spoonful of “legacy”
Separately mix “White Guilt” with a cup of diversity (Native American if available)
Marinate in SAT classes
Spread 2300mg of SAT on top
Shake Well
Ice decoratively with essays about Jakito
Most batches must be rejected
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC
I'VE NEVER BEEN THAT GIRL ALL THE GUYS BOW DOWN TO.
IVE NEVER ACTUALLY MET A GUY WHO WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR ME.
NEVER BEEN A POPULAR PERSON.
NEVER BEEN PERFECT ON THE INSIDE OUT.
NEVER BEEN HOMECOMING QUEEN.
IVE NEVER BEEN ON A CHEERLEADING TEAM.
NEVER HAD GIRLS THAT WANTED TO BE ME.
NEVER BEEN CALLED PERFECT BY GUYS ON THE VARSITY FOOTBALL TEAM.
I'VE NEVER KISSED KEN.
BUT,
I AM ME.
I'VE BEEN THE GIRL WHO ALL THE GUYS HAVE RESPECT FOR.
I'VE BEEN THE GIRL THAT ALL THE GUYS CALL FRIEND.
I HAVE BEEN THE GIRL THAT HAS HAD IMPERFECT BUT PERFECT GUYS CRUSH ON ME.
I'VE BEEN THE GIRL THAT SPENDS HER WEEKENDS AT THE SKATEPARK OR RIDING DIRTBIKES.
IM THE GIRL THAT HAS SARCASM EVERYONE FEARS TO HEAR.
IM THE GIRL THAT WILL BE TOTALLY HONEST EVEN IF IT WILL HURT YOUR FEELINGS.
IM THE GIRL THAT CAN BE PRETTY.
IM THE GIRL THAT PREFERS SHORTS OR PANTS OVER SKIRTS AND DRESSES.
IM THE GIRL WHO LIKES FISHNETS AND COMBAT BOOTS.
THE GIRL THAT WILL GET CRAZY.
THE GIRL THAT DEFENDS HERSELF AND PEOPLE SHE CARES ABOUT.
I WILL GET IN YOUR FACE IF YOU GET IN MINE.
I WOULD RATHER HAVE ONE SPECIAL GUY THEN HAVE TWENTY FAKE GUYS.
IM THE GIRL THAT RESPECTS YOU IF YOU RESPECT ME.
IM THE HARD HEADED GIRL THAT IS STUBBORN AS HELL.
I DON'T FALL IN LOVE WITH JERKS.
I PLAY HARD TO GET IF I FEEL THAT YOU WANT ME TO BE EASY.
IM THE GIRL THAT WILL KICK YOUR *** IF YOU MESS WITH ME.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
*** 101
by Michael R. Burch
That day the late spring heat
steamed through the windows of a Crayola-yellow schoolbus
crawling its way up the backwards slopes
of Nowheresville, North Carolina ...
Where we sat exhausted
from the day’s skulldrudgery
and the unexpected waves of muggy,
summer-like humidity ...
Giggly first graders sat two abreast
behind senior high students
sprouting their first sparse beards,
their implausible bosoms, their stranger affections ...
The most unlikely coupling―
Lambert, 18, the only college prospect
on the varsity basketball team,
the proverbial talldarkhandsome
swashbuckling cocksman, grinning ...
Beside him, Wanda, 13,
bespectacled, in her primproper attire
and pigtails, staring up at him,
fawneyed, disbelieving ...
And as the bus filled with the improbable musk of her,
as she twitched impaled on his finger
like a dead frog jarred to life by electrodes,
I knew ...
that love is a forlorn enterprise,
that I would never understand it.
Keywords/Tags: first, love, *** lust, passion, desire, school, bus, foreplay, ********* odor, musk
Apr 27, 2020
Apr 27, 2020 at 4:29 AM UTC
I’ll give you that;
You were my first.
Yet you were nothing but regret,
And I still cringe when I see you packing things in a plastic bag
At the local grocery store.
Sorry it ******
but I was high and didn’t care.
Now you,
Well you were confident and handsome
You knew how to deal with girls
And it was cruise, I would never see you again,
I was fine with that.
I had fun, thank you.
I guess I can say I’ve got with a black guy now.
We skipped school,
You and I,
Even as my third, I still didn’t love you
Even though we had dated twice before
To think that you were a varsity football ****
I didn’t care though
And I had fun,
A good two hours of it,
But you were the one that made me realize this wasn’t doing it
That this wasn’t helping and that it made me feel worse
But oh well
Wow,
You were the most unexpected,
the unclassiest,
but probably the most fun
Probably.
We were in a car,
The cliché teenage ****
I still think back and laugh
Because it wasn’t my car we were in, or yours for that matter
But my friend’s car
and she was driving.
You were a year younger, but rebellious
And I liked that.
Man, you ******
It was my first time tripping,
But definitely not my first time dealing with guys like you.
I should have known,
But you were sweet,
You were a gentlemen
And you took care of me.
You made sure I was okay for my first time
I felt so good that night; new shapes and colors swirling around,
I just wanted to lie down.
I just wanted to cuddle, maybe.
Next thing I knew you were on top of me
And all I could feel was your pressure
I felt trapped,
Like I had to
I didn’t want to
But I had to
I don’t know what to think of that night anymore
I’m absolutely positive you existed,
But I can’t remember,
And that scares me.
I think you were the first one I truly cared about,
But now that I look back,
I don’t think I really did.
I loved the idea of you,
Just not you.
But it still hurts to think of it.
It wasn’t that good you know,
Maybe worse than my first,
But I disregarded that because I liked you.
And it hurt even more knowing that you didn’t like me,
That you kept denying any feelings for me.
Ill never forget the things you said right before
“Just friends, okay?”
Well it’s true what they say about sleeping with a friend
It ruined what we felt about each other
You didn’t go deep enough anyway.
Its been awkward with you ever since.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 4:02 PM UTC
It's Friday night at the sorority house.
You struggle to find the perfect blouse.
For the party of the year is happening tonight.
So you make sure everything is completely right.
Subtlety was left with your coat at the door.
I'd expect nothing less from a party-hopping *****
I've no place to judge if promiscuity be your choice.
But it's the same decision that makes my friends rejoice.
Your claws sink in to the first bro you see.
Tonight he is everything you want him to be.
Muscular, tall, and a great head of hair.
You hardly notice him pretend to care.
You leave the party and end up at his place.
His pretentious lines cause a smile on your face.
Then he brings his mouth close to your lips.
Not the ones on your face but those between your hips.
As you lay in his bed, your hair quite the mess.
The words you uttered for those to bless.
You ask yourself if there's anything better.
Than being a mark on his varsity letter.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:13 AM UTC
Sometimes I wonder about the girl in the back of the class with the Hogwarts shirt who knows everything.
Sometimes I wonder about the shy, new boy who is slightly bigger than the rest of our Psych class.
Sometimes I wonder about the varsity soccer player with a little sister who is a newcomer.
Sometimes I wonder about how my math teacher and assistant director are dating.
Sometimes I wonder why the boy in my English class feels the need to argue everything.
Sometimes I wonder how the girls in my class do their makeup so precisely.
Sometimes I wonder what life would be like without my siblings.
Sometimes I wonder what I would do if my best friend died.
Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I died.
Sometimes I wonder about my future.
Sometimes I wonder how we're all connected without really being connected at all.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
My worst?
My low?
My bottom?
Go back a few years,
You will find a fourteen-year-old girl
She looks like she has everything.
Incredibly gifted by God
Athletic, musical, lots of friends
An awesome family, a loving family
She gets A’s
She makes the Varsity team
She goes to church every Sunday
She seems happy
She smiles
She laughs
But these are empty smiles
This laughter is empty laughter
She is an actress
A good actress
She plays her role
With grace
With perfection
But when she climbs into bed at night
She slips under her sheets
And everything but satisfaction meets her where she lies
Her mind is bombarded
Her thoughts are stuck on repeat
Playing the same suicide song over and over
Again.
And again.
And again.
The thoughts come.
Unwanted,
They come.
Hard and fast,
They come.
She fights it.
She fights hard.
But they eat at her.
They gnaw at her insides,
And they won’t give up.
So she goes to find her release
She silently makes her way to the bathroom
And slowly, carefully
She begins
The blade hits her pale skin
And the pain,
Oh, the sweet, sweet pain
It erupts.
It explodes.
It envelops her in a blanket of protection
For the moment,
She is safe.
She is free from the thoughts
This pain has freed her
And satisfaction is what she feels
A satisfaction she feels from nothing else
This satisfaction,
It feels so **** good
So **** right
She desperately desires more
So she digs
Deeper
Harder
One more
Slice
And the pain,
It pours from her thin, shaking body
But the satisfaction,
It is just as great
And this is what she longs for,
This satisfaction
This sick,
This twisted,
Satisfaction
She is done now
Methodically she cleans up the blood
The remains of a self-massacre
The remains of her bath in blades
Suddenly,
There is a boy.
Standing in the doorway,
There is a boy
Her brother
His eyes catch hers
He knows
He speaks no words
Neither does she
But he comes
He sits behind her,
Around her
And his arms,
They wrap around her
They hold her
And then she cries
Not just tears,
But sobs,
Sobs that rob her of her sight,
Sobs that take control of her body,
But he is there.
Holding her,
Loving her,
Telling her that she is worth it,
Saving her life.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 11:38 PM UTC
You cannot press the page as if you are trying to tattoo meaning onto it. People so often forget the words as supposed to do that for you, ink askew, words committing Hari Kari ***** nilly as they derail into one another, meaning unintelligible as the point of the modern day history channel programming schedule. It is a varsity track jacket for the masses, mass produced for those unable to sew it themselves or earn it through bestowed prowess. Even national bestsellers are written in pencil these days, and before their sentence is pronounced, the verdict has been erased by the side palm of our ever-loving adhd. The thinly split nib, the exposed *** crack of a wayward genius is mocked until covered, no longer ******** the stuff of sanity, and as a result the fools rule literature with a tin scepter of complacency.
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 8:45 AM UTC
I can put on a neon orange jumpsuite
And stake my self like a spike
Infront of all the busy cars
In this crowded parking lot
And still be invisible
I can throw every ecyclapedia
Out of this libary like a varsity
Pitcher who never lost
A game
And still be invisible.
I can walk into the lecture hall
On my head like a martion and
Speak astronomy without a
Glow of english
And still be invisible.
Twenty two years
Have made me
Disapear
I cant spend another year
Alone with my invisibility.
I cant hide from love anylonger.
Its time to repear and find
My self again before the dreaded
Forty four only has one candle
On a single cupcake. All alone when
It knows he turned the lites off. Hes the only
One who could of flickered the dusty
Plastic switch. There was not any mystery
Only a wind of failure he caused on himself
When he blew the candle out twenty two years from now.
Because he was invisible.
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 2:31 AM UTC
It’s peach tea
Spring time
Sitting against the wall, knees bent
Waiting
A shadow
Relief.
Synthetic oil
So the car will steer
Nasty stuff
Stains my fingers
Mindless driving
Familiar streets
Returning.
Dishes piled in the sink
Shoes scattered in the foyer
Stacks on papers
On the floor
Ready to be unattended to
Scolding and slamming doors
Rolling eyes, heavy sighs
Home.
The senior prom
Football games
Sleepovers, gossip tongues
Varsity jackets, the play, the game
The boyfriend, the best friend
Detention, hooky
Never happened.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
It hurts...this grief, this emptiness,
this ache for what will never be...
it hurts
It hurts...the pain is unbearable.
It feels like someone has surgically removed my heart
and they forgot to sew me back up,
they forgot to put me back together.
It's this unbearable grief, this emptiness inside of me.
I miss him so much.
It's this huge longing for something that will never be...
it hurts...it hurts so much.
And I cannot stop crying from the ache.
I don't know how to get past it.
I don't know if I can.
I don't know if it's possible.
It hurts
It hurts so much to have this aching need that will never be real again.
Tonight I am surrounded by all my memories of Jimmy. Thinking that somehow it will all bring me healing energy…help put my broken heart back together. Pictures of us as kids, the sweet letters we shared as adults when we no longer lived in the same states, his high school varsity jacket, his favorite bandanna. Even after all this time, I can still smell his cologne and if I squeeze my eyes shut I can almost believe that you are here with me.
I miss Jimmy tonight.
I miss his safety, and his comfort...
He made me feel safe.
I need that tonight.
I need him.
It hurts so much.
It hurts...
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
If friends and courage were a game,
I'd be losing.
If ******** up was the tryouts,
I'd have a guaranteed spot.
If the lonely kids were a team,
I'd be on varsity.
High school
And the sports in it
Is such
a
drag.
If a losing varsity team would allow it,
I'd rather take one instead.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 9:50 PM UTC
i wanted to be black and blue
on a football field at midnight.
i wanted to wear varsity jackets
and give them away to beautiful women.
now i just want to be
a button on your blouse,
the fur lining of your coat.
now i just want to be kisses
and dreams
and a hot night spent
under clean white sheets
with you.
Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 11:03 PM UTC
She wore his varsity jacket
He kissed her cheek
They said they would never end.
She made cheer
He made football
Problems begin to bend.
She wondered what he was hiding
He saw someone else
It all started with the send.
She saw him with her
He lost his true love
And this is my story
of my stupid love.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 7:34 PM UTC
pimples and mint life savers
flirting over text and pink lipgloss
crying in class and acting like you hate the world
traveling in groups, friendships you think will last a lifetime and homework you never do
you never thought you'd have to grow up, did you?
everything is temporary
lockers and passing notes
doing everything you can so the cute boy your mother likes will daydream about you, too
everyone in your first hour literature class won't remember your name in 15 years when we all have kids and we marry someone because you simply have no reason not to
colorful backpacks and varsity sports
thinking high school would be the best four years of your life
why would someone lie to you?
gossip and holding hands
you never realized the guy across the hall would break your heart and rip your new blouse, did you?
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC