"volleyball" poems
I serve
To my team
I catch
with my face
I pass
To the floor
I score
Into the net
And yet
I frown
By smiling
And win
By losing
A defeat
Can be a good victory
Its all about sportsmanship
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
Faded clothes,
Burnt face,
Sticky hair,
Filthy palms,
Bloodshot eyes,
Sweaty arms.
Dried throat,
Painful thighs,
Sore feet,
Divided crowd,
Pitiful players,
Swollen knuckles.
Torn hope,
Crumpled chance,
Sunned court,
Tumbling scores,
Coughing points,
Silver lining.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 8:58 AM UTC
The Nets Hold Our Dreams Like Tangled Bugs,
And The Courts Gleam With Our Ambition,
Beads Of Sweat Form Perfectly On Our Raised Brows,
As We Play With The Attitude A Champion Needs,
We Are Dressed In Black And Blue,
Floor Burn Covering Our No Longer Smooth Skin,
Our Lips Bleeding From The Battle For The Ball,
The Sound Of Screaming Becomes White Noise,
As We Burrow Into The Gym Floor,
Just For One More Medal,
And As We Walk Away From The Courts,
With Our Arms Bruised And Torn,
Red And Raw,
We Smile At Our Dreams Still Lying,
In The Twisted Nets
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 8:44 AM UTC
Thursday, 1:36AM
A conversation
Stemming from a picture
Posted on Facebook
Over whether a volleyball is pink or bubblegum.
You girls should seriously get your eyes checked
Suggests its owner
Because the volleyball is most definitely not pink
Indeed bubblegum and white.
It is sad, he says,
That a college-aged person does not know
The basic colors of life.
He tells us I will pray for you
As if we are the ones who need to be atoned.
What is our sin?
Hes wondering why
God gave us such shallow minds
And bad color perception.
To this I take offense, especially since
Perception is not spelled
“p-r-e-c-e-p-t-i-o-n”.
He brings
Conception, Construction and Liposuction
Into the mix.
Where is this going I asked What is the relevance
Of these things?
He has no answer…
The things I have learned from this
are very clear:
Pink does not equal bubblegum
Facebook does not equal
Intelligent conversation
And owning a pink volleyball
Does not equal being effeminate
And whether male or female
All are one.
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 1:29 PM UTC
Sports have rules
Down to every little detail
Zoned in and ready to go
You do this and this happens
There are memorized plays
Your mind reacts automatically
Rules
Every game has them
I'm good at body control
Now, controlling my emotions
That's a different story
I wish life was as easy as sports
In life, theres endless possibilities
You do this and you have no idea what happens
Baseball, volleyball, and hockey
I can play all day long
Life
I'm sick of it already
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
With my bobby pin, taken from my hair after volleyball practice,
I scrape black resin from a blue bowl
It's a rougher
Dirtier
Hash ball
But it loves on your brain just as much
And my arms are bruised from passing
They could use that numbing forgetfulness
That lurks like stupidity
In the back of my brain
Always
The *** just emphasizes it
The way gaudy clothes do on a pretty girl
That's me too sometimes
But I have a mother,
Just as you,
And she gave me dreamss
To live up to
A school of science and engineering
So...what do you do?
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
I feel bad for her because I know she's hurting.
But does she know how much pain she puts on me.
Making me think he doesn't love me.
Maybe I believe it.
That's the pathetic part.
Her pain causing the problems of my future life with Him.
This is not the love of a mother.
Who doesn't approve of her daughter.
Who she is now.
The person that she loves to be.
This is emotional abuse.
Hopeless
Dauntless
Useless
God get us out of this labyrinth.
Set the generations of past free for the future.
For only the hole in my chest is never going to fully recover with this madness.
This is not good madness.
The repetition of the flash on the screen makes my heart panic.
Alas it should be comfort that the soul encounters.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
Ever since day 1 he was truly determined to play,
If I met him our friendship would never decay,
I once did volleyball myself whenI was younger,
Winning a single game won't satisfy his hunger,
I would run with him on that mountain every day,
I would see to it that he never feels grey,
I would want to be his greatest friend without drama,
But that spot has been taken by Kageyama,
They teach us how even enemies can become great allies,
Everyone of their games together are quite a surprise,
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC
What did I do to get those stares?
Why do you guys look at like I'm a freak.
They whisper and stare at me when I Board the bus.
I'm just like you guys.
I came back for the Love of the Sport.
Not to be a Nuisance.
I came because I love the sport. I don't care if I don't play.
So Please don't give me the look why am I here?
and Ignore me like I'm not there.
I know I got cut from the team. I know I don't have my Serve.
I know I seem weak.
Like I can't do my Job.
But I'm trying my Hardest.
I want to please you guys.
I want you to see that I'm here to help.
The stares and whispers are breaking me.
I'm going to have a breakdown.
Because I know you guys don't want me there.
I know why Stick around somewhere where you aren't wanted?
I want to show them I care enough. That I am strong enough.
I Just wish that's how they saw me.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
The smoke traveled through my throat all the way to my lungs.
With cloudy thoughts and smelly clothes
I sat on the back row.
Teachers and classmates wonder alike.
I wish I could push the smell inside my Hello Kitty backpack
But I cannot, so instead, I pull myself aside.
I keep telling mommy to quit.
But does she listen? I wish she did.
A couple of years later I discovered a marvelous thing!
Although I had promised myself I would never touch a cigarette, I do.
It happened in the backyard where my volleyball fell.
I simply bent down and picked up a cigarette **** instead.
The skinny, now small cigarette- still blushing with mom’s lipstick.
I put it in my mouth, automatically.
Just how I’ve seen her do it millions of times.
I inhale and exhale my worries away and become my mom.
Next thing I know, the stench disappears
and it’s me who blows little puffy clouds
into my daughter’s mouth and lungs.
I pass the sickness on.
Later on we go visit Doctor Nguyen.
As we step inside, I can smell the infected air of the hospital’s hall.
And I know.
I know what the doctor will say.
While I see myself on my daughter’s head
I can hardly breathe.
I am choking with the smell of smoke,
The smell of sadness,
The smell of tears and of cancer.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
The screaming cheers
travel a distance far
in the divided hall
the yellows and blues
await the serving ball
an overhand strike
the ball speeds
across the mid-line
the yellows
dig, set & attack
the blues
fling & smack
fearless & skilled
the crowd hails
winning or defeat
is a victory for all
for the love
of volleyball
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 10:37 PM UTC
My name is Zaynah,
I my best friend is Dayna.
I love volleyball,
and love to go to a fancy ball.
I love school,
cause I am way too cool.
I love One Direction, Justin Bieber, Cher Lloyd, 5 Seconds of Summer, & Austin Mahone from Texas,
& I want to drive a
Lexus.
That is all about me,
oh and I love to watch T.V.
~Zaynah
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
repetition
is never
more
than one
poem.
there’s no future
in this pill.
my mother’s head
is full of heads.
I haven’t a volleyball
in a pond
to **** on.
in the words of my son
a sailor is lost at me.
I go on correcting oddities
in the brain and in the muscle
of a jack
in the box
as a cyclist
champions
hunting mourners
to keep their numbers down.
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
V-is for vowing to never drink *****
While on our voluntary vacation.
We have voiced our verification
In a high voltage volcano
While playing volleyball
And checking our voicemail.
While in this void,
A terrifyingly vivid *****
Who was a model for vogue
In which she wore a V-neck dress,
And ate all her vitamins
Vocabulized with much volume,
Her vow
To always,
Drink *****
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 10:16 AM UTC
Like an onion, I had layers.
And you peeled me away, one at a time.
One layer off.
You saw my favorites.
The food and drinks I crave for.
The wall paint I wanted for my room.
The perky dresses, nail polish, knee-high boots.
And the spot I always prefer to be- on the front seat.
One layer off.
You saw my hobbies.
The words I stitched together.
The stars that formed our zodiac sign.
The wallclimbing, badminton, volleyball.
And the guitar strings that strum our lullaby.
One layer off.
You saw my dreams.
The plane ticket to Paris.
The thrill of a bungee jump.
The candlelit dinner, fireworks, dancing fountain.
And the license as a medical physician.
One layer off.
You saw my strengths.
The smile behind the false judgements.
The tears I fought back with pride.
The temperance, confidence, adjustments.
And the self-love I have strongly magnified.
One layer off.
You saw my insecurities.
The missing dimple on my left cheek.
The pimples on my forehead.
The bitchface, fierce stare, strict walk.
And this prominently thin-but-tall body figure.
One layer off.
You saw my regrets.
The kisses I could have refused.
The friends I thought were true.
The false assumptions, unmet expectations.
And the trust I gave to the wrong person.
One layer off.
You saw my secrets.
The punches I had to take.
The bruises I covered with my sleeves.
The lies, frustrations, disappointments.
And the brokenness suppressed in my memory.
The last layer, off.
You saw through me.
The anxiousness escalating slowly.
The exposure feeling uneasy.
I felt stripped, explored, unguarded.
And in my nakedness - you had to choose:
To love or to leave me,
For who I really am.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 2:49 AM UTC
the greatest people in your life
come unexpectedly
maybe it is the time
when you bumped them in the hallway
or played volleyball on the same team
it happens
and we just do not know
maybe they were your bus mates
or someone you thought was a ******
i thought everyone was the same
until i met each
b.a
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 8:36 AM UTC
hello my name is dyed red hair
hello my name is infj
hello my name is having a love hate relationship with different music genres
hello my name is crying during sad or happy movies
hello my name is an avid just dance player
hello my name is wearing black all the time
hello my name is liking the color blue best
hello my name is b math
hello my name is canadian
hello my name is sometimes not so happy with my weight
hello my name is a writer
hello my name is being afraid of being left alone
hello my name is captain of the volleyball team
hello my name is a christian
hello my name is q
hello my name is fashion lover
hello my name is making bad decisions
hello my name is loving to travel a lot
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
Don't worry, I won't tell her about you.
Don't worry, her first word will always be "Mama".
Don't worry, I won't tell her about your deep love for strawberry milkshakes.
Though, she refuses to have milk in everything but strawberry shakes.
Don't worry, I won't bother telling her how good you were at volleyball,
I would tell her its a good sport to play.
Don't worry, I won't bother telling her science fictions are great,
I ask her to just give any of them from the shelf, a read.
Don't worry, I won't bother telling her that she can't bunk classes.
Because she is allowed to but, also read her textbooks later.
Though, she doesn't know how pridefully your attendance used to drop, then.
Don't worry, I won't bother not going to movies with her and yeah, she can choose them,
alternatively.
Don't worry, I won't bother her to grow up.
She can always have brownies and chocolate ice cream in the middle of the night.
Though, she doesn't know how you used to be lectured for doing the same.
Don't worry, I won't bother asking her to learn singing,
she loves Jazz dancing.
Though you never stopped moving your feet, to those Irish beats.
Don't worry, I won't bother saying how blowing bubbles and balloons were your favorite pass time.
It's her 16th birthday and all she wants is the party hall to be crowded with red and white balloons.
Don't worry, I won't bother telling her that black is the color.
I tell her that she can always wear black to dates and sometimes, they work out really well.
Don't worry, I won't bother asking her to give me a call
every once in a while.
Because she loves writing letters and mailing them to me.
Little does she know, about your handwritten notes that still hold a place in my diary.
Don't worry, I won't question her choices.
But, will for sure forbid her from falling for a man like you,
who will soon fall for someone new.
Oh did I forget to tell you, she writes too.
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 7:59 AM UTC
My school work has prevented
Me from being able to do
Any yoga lately
And I feel like crap
A long day of school over
Then volleyball. Piano lessons
Or voice lessons
Or a recital Or an audition or a festival
(Which I should be having fun with
But I don't because all I can think about
Is the work
I have afterwards.)
I finish late at night
Try to cram in some social medias
I go to bed wicked late.
Then no time to even be clean
Until today I swear I hadn't taken
A shower in at least 3 days
And in the morning
In so tired I can't even
Get ready on time and I'm late for school
Or miss the bus
Or have to Sprint to the bus
There's no time to do my yoga
Or anything else for that matter
Because of school
And it goes like this again
Everyday during the week...
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
I am a sound of a humming bird's voice, singing peacefully without no distraction
A dark colored maroon for its unique dullness,
A mountain higher than you can ever imagine,
A swan for its belief in it's own beauty,
And a lamp that shines brightly no matter how dim it gets.
I am a sunflower who blooms toward the sun of my color,
An apple tree who bears fruit for the needs,
A lake that goes deep into thoughts and emotions,
A Minecraft game that all people can enjoy,
A cup of water for its purity,
An A for its position in the alphabet and sharpness in mind.
I am an ice-cream that revives people on certain understandable days,
A volleyball that can be pressured up,
And the Divergent book that shows I can always be different.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC
To talk to the menace of man
To hear fast words belched out
Like a drunkard holding His gun
Time trickles tears
Of the one's
Left behind
How beauty moves
Is a mystery
To minds unprepared for chance
I hear year long struggles from bugles
Laced
In
Gold
And am very very bored
There are times when I speak
And I cannot recognize the voice
Somewhere far off from me
A woman pulls up her flowered shorts
Was I there to pull them down?
Or was I here?
**** wednesday forgot its own name
Distracted by the glare of the bad masses B's
Expensive and ludicrous jewelry
To take a moment is to take a slice of life
Forgetting that you were once nothing
And soon will be
Nothing
To fret the death of the ego the work the paint splattered soul dirt
Chipped teeth line curb side markets
With trinkets and hairy arm pits
I destroyed a letter I wrote to myself today
Because the nakedness of mine own soul
Was to boring and dreary to read
For now we are the waking still lives
Of the art we all wished we could create
So close so far so long so short
Is our time here to giggle at the way a dog must walk
When it is constipated
Don't laugh at that because dog constipation
Is a
Very
Serious
Thing
Regression in the Freudian sense croquet neck tie polar bears
My mother named me after that
But not before
She shot the winning shot
In her hometown
Volleyball game
Letters of three make me sneeze
Jun 5, 2011
Jun 5, 2011 at 10:43 PM UTC
When I was sophomore in high school I was cut from the volleyball team and I started thinking about what I would do next
I decided to try out for the cheer team for my junior year
When I told people I heard the same two things
But aren’t you in honors classes?
And
But you’re not a *****
my friends I thought would support me were only perplexed by my decision
a friend told me I would be invited to parties
and pressured to date a ****
but they forgot, my best friends forgot
that even though I’d be a cheerleader, I’d still be me
I would still get nervous and talk too much,
I’d still be awkward and angry and sad
I made the team and the next year
In my honors classes people asked “but aren’t you a cheerleader”
When that cute senior invited me to his bedroom that night
I refused and he said “but you’re a cheerleader”
And I did not understand why people could not see past the uniform I wore
I got invited to parties
But I usually went and stayed quiet while everyone else mingled
And sometimes I left early because I felt so alone
I was still awkward and angry and sad
And people still did not understand that even though I was a cheerleader
That I was still me
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
I'm jealous of Anna
Green with envy
But as they say
Green is not a creative color.
Why can't I be as pretty as she is
Why can't the boys fawn over me
Why can't I play
Three different instruments
Why can't I speak five languages
Three of which fluently
Why can't I be good at
Volleyball, Tennis, and Running
Why can't I look as good
In a bikini as she does
Why can't I realize
That the truth is
Anna is jealous of me too
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 8:39 PM UTC
There are boys that cry,
There are girls who have dry eyes.
There are boys that dance or play volleyball,
There are girls that wrestle or play football.
There are boys who drive VW Bugs,
There are girls that drive trucks.
There are boys that bake,
There are girls that shred.
There are boys that like the Notebook,
There are girls that like Transformers.
There are boys that are romantics at heart, looking for love,
There are girls that aren't into flowers or love songs.
There are boys with hair to their knees,
There are girls with shaved heads.
There are boys with diaries and journals full of memories,
There are girls who have no desire to write down all the details.
There are boys with names like Aubry,
There are girls with names like Sam.
There are boys with insecurities about their bodies,
There are girls who don't weigh themselves ever.
There are boys with eating disorders,
There are girls who work out for the ideal 6 pack.
There are boys that prep endlessly for a date,
There are girls who take 5 minutes to get out the door.
There are tidy, neat boys,
There are messy, whirlwind girls.
There are boys in dresses,
There are girls in baggy jeans and a pullover.
There are boys who shop endlessly,
There are girls who can't stand the mall.
There are boys that talk about their emotions,
There are girls who would rather not.
There are boys that look after the kids,
There are girls that work full-time.
There are boys who are nurses,
There are girls who are engineers.
There are boys who cook,
There are girls that change the oil in the car.
There are boys who are complacent and subordinate,
There are girls who are dominant and overpowering.
There are boys with no desire to get it in on the first date,
And there are some girls who wouldn't mind if they do.
And those are all okay. Gender stereotyping only limits what you can and can't do. Let the boys cry and write poetry and eat chocolate when they're sad and talk about their feelings. Let the girls be aggressive and wrestle their buddies and play ball and drive sports cars. Let people do as they please. You're born as you a are, you can't decide what gender you are. You can decide what you do with your gender though, or rather what it won't keep you from doing. Your gender is only an aspect of who you are, don't let it dictate your actions to appease a society that has deemed what is and is not okay for you to do simply because you're either a guy or girl.
There are boys and girls that can grow up to be what they please, do as they wish and speak as they will. Don't be the one to tell them otherwise.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
Today I'm trying to ignore the pain
I can imagine butterflies
Are carrying my pain to the fluffy clouds
I can imagine birds are singing to me
Instead of the constant pills I have to swallow
I can imagine that little gnomes and fairies
Are trying to take away most of my pain
Instead of the pain medicine that I take
With a snack or a meal
I can imagine that rainbows and shooting stars
Adorn the sky instead of the grey clouds
That fill the sky
I can also imagine that the day is warm enough
For our games of croquet or perhaps volleyball
Instead of the howling winds and bitter cold
That lace the air outside the house
I can try to picture myself
Reading a book underneath a sunny, shady tree
Or laying beside a babbling brook or creek
Dreaming the hours away
Instead of sitting here in the rocking recliner
Trying to ignore the pain
~Marian~
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 12:11 PM UTC