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"wicket" poems
They’re really rockin’ in Bradford, Off the Pennine Way. Deep in the heart of Yorkshire And round the Robin Hood’s Bay. All over South Ossett And down to New Farnley. Roast beef and Yorkie Puddings, God’s Own County, Yay! Yull see ‘em rambling at Ilkley, Right to the county line, Sheffield steel and Wednesday – A football team so fine. Better still, Leeds United, Greatest club of all time. Yorkshire, Kings of Cricket, Oh what a boon! Get down that wicket, We’ll be champs by June. Down a ginnel or snicket, See our Olympic Champs. Coal Miner Picket, Relight those lamps. Racing pigeons and ferrets, Stereotypes tha knows. Over t’top in Lancashire, Them there’s our foes. We’re the greatest county, Our pride really glows. We know you all hate us, It keeps us on our toes. So we’ll be rockin’ in Yorkshire, What more can I say? Us Tykes 're as barmy as Barnsley, So I’ll be on my way. Paul Butters (With due thanks to Chuck Berry and also The Beach Boys)
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC
Yorkshire Rockin'
**squinting up the leaves of the bountiful tree i espied a mango ripe and soft with goodness as the sun came gently filtering through aloft the wings of a little fellow with a long beak and a brisk song to celebrate dinner found my feathered visitor hovered above the vintage prize and as his thirsty proboscis drilled the succulent mango the warm enticing juice, natural and healthy as ever, drip-settled in the base of my hungry open eye i thought i heard a flourish in the triumphant bird-song such as one at the fall of a big wicket; and in that slow-motion moment, i knew: the mango was his, and it'd now be eat and let eat, till the last delectable mango**
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Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 10:19 AM UTC
under the mango tree
(For D. M. C.) The little man with the vague beard and guise Pulled at the wicket. "Come inside!" he said, "I'll show you all we've got now -- it was size You wanted? -- oh, dry colors! Well" -- he led To a dim alley lined with musty bins, And pulled one fiercely. Violent and bold A sudden tempest of mad, shrieking sins Scarlet screamed out above the battered gold Of tins and picture-frames. I held my breath. He tugged another hard -- and sapphire skies Spread in vast quietude, serene as death, O'er waves like crackled turquoise -- and my eyes Burnt with the blinding brilliance of calm sea! "We're selling that lot there out cheap!" said he.
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Colors
Edna's alter ego ORLOK advises you not to trifle with him in his 8th poem Who would dare to mock the great Count Orlok, Mighty vampire bat and ace sodomiser? No one at all, I tell you, my old **** - Against that I'd be a strong advisor. But if anyone e'er dared to steal my poems I'd surely rip their ******* throat apart; They'd be opening a veritable can of worms - And who cares if it were a guy or a **** So beware of stealing aught from this wicket bat Who flutters above your house by night; I'll surely find out just where you're at And then may Satan pity you in your plight. Anyone who steals my poems is condemned to Hell And their death pains will be truly grotty; Since, in spite of the really awful smell, I'll stuff eight inches up their dying botty.
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
Who would Dare Plagiarise the Mighty ORLOK?
As one who's born in England There is something I don't know Exactly what is "cricket" ? Please tell me so I'll go Both teams dress in white The bowler doesn't bowl He doesn't bend his arm to throw I don't understand the goal The ball goes out it scores six runs But it must go in the air The ball rolls out it scores four more Is this really fair? The games can last for days and days But what confuses me Is that every game at four o'clock The players stop for tea A game is called a test But is every test a game some may last for just one day The length is not the same There's a throw they call a googly I know what that means I got hit there playing hockey It ***** your breath so you can't scream There's wickets and there's bails mid slips, and those silly stumps I'm sure that if it confuses me What does it do to umps? The biggest question that I have Besides, what's a sticky wicket? Is of all the players on the field Which one of them's the cricket?
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
Cricket
He has no face or desire to face the large grate And inside the wicket of the grate The little door to the larger gate One side named narrow The door knob's apprehensions twist in the fingertips The other side slides to the indifference The 69 peep holes rock in scandalization How does one survive ? The false prophet goes door to door selling sheep skin diplomas black as raven's hair His false fruit lays fermenting adding pollution to our despair . The prophet's basic fault is full of self interests For gain and grain of easy life For personal prestige through others pain and strife His man-centered words appeal to the ears that want to be tickled with ear candy And the results are that truth be forgotten , trampled to dust and thrown away Beware of the smooth tongue Jacob with the rough hairy hands of Esau .
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Sep 16, 2025
Sep 16, 2025 at 8:26 PM UTC
Wicket
Klusener could whack it, yes Lance, To spinners, down wicket, he'd dance,    No defensive tricks,    He smote them for six, The same for the quicks without prance. Sometimes he could bowl pretty quick, Sometimes the batsmen he'd trick.    Gave balance to the side,    Served country with pride, All without ever being a ***** His best score V England, remember? Our bowlers he got to dismember.    Zulu hit it so high    Way up into the sky, It didn't come down 'til November.
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Mar 1, 2010
Mar 1, 2010 at 10:40 AM UTC
Ode to Lance Klusener
the sport of cricket is no longer a clean game bribes and corruption have dowsed it in shame ***** money has walked onto the cricket pitch and it does so give the sporting pundits a severe stitch ball tampering by the players and umpires being paid off these disrespectful actions causing cricket lovers to fulsomely scoff the game of cricket has been so badly sullied over the past few years and it does so make the fans feel less incline to cheer cricket has a grubby tarnish upon it these days the ICC should be disinfecting the game's wicked ways devotees of cricket are not a happy lot they are waiting for the wicket to be cleansed of all the ***** rot
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
Cricket Isn't Cricket
They’re really rockin’ in Bradford, Off the Pennine Way. Deep in the heart of Yorkshire And all round Robin Hood’s Bay. All over South Ossett Down there to New Farnley. Roast beef and Yorkie Puddings, God’s County Yay! Yull see ‘em rambling near Ilkley, Right to the county line, Sheffield steel and Wednesday – A football team so fine. Better still, Leeds United, Greatest club of all time. Yorkshire, Kings of Cricket, Oh what a boon! Get down that wicket, We’ll be champs by June. Down a ginnel or snicket, See our Olympic Champs. Coal Miner Picket, Relight those lamps. Racing pigeons and ferrets, Stereotypes tha knows. Over t’top in Lancashire, Them there’s our foes. We’re the greatest county, Our pride really glows. We know you all do hate us, It keeps us on our toes. So we’ll be rockin’ in Yorkshire, What more can I say? Us Tykes're as barmy as Barnsley, So I’ll be on my way. Paul Butters (With due thanks to Chuck Berry and also The Beach Boys) © PB 2\5\2016. Slightly Amended 14\4\2023.
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Apr 14, 2023
Apr 14, 2023 at 3:09 PM UTC
Yorkshire Rockin'
the Boxing Day test cricket match has just begun with the Indian bowlers out to stymie the Australian's run they'll be keeping their cherry ball deliveries tight so the lads from Oz don't get any easy flight on the wicket there will be a momentous Waterloo battle the Indian side shall need all of its line and length chattel no loose ***** going awry into the four's ditch they'll have to be spot on when sailing down the pitch in the first session of play India can't afford one mistake or their teams shall be left in the Aussie team's shattering wake as the innings progresses throughout the day the Australian side will surely be making hay the pride of both cricketing nations is at stake on the MCG those vying to win the spoils of the test shall require a flawless key runs aplenty are on offer on the pitch for the Aussie boys so the Indian bowlers must forestall their batting ploys
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Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
Boxing Day Test (Sports Poem)
Twice a week the winter thorough Here stood I to keep the goal: Football then was fighting sorrow For the young man's soul. Now in Maytime to the wicket Out I march with bat and pad: See the son of grief at cricket Trying to be glad. Try I will; no harm in trying: Wonder 'tis how little mirth Keeps the bones of man from lying On the bed of earth.
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Twice A Week The Winter Thorough
A bright lad called Alistair Cook Did enjoy the occasional book, He went out to bat, NO - don't play at that, They did him; line, sinker and hook. On him I'd bet my whole house, More like a lion than a mouse, He bats with aplomb, Both dainty and strong, It can only be Andrew Strauss. From the pavilion did Jonathan Trott, Nervous and anxious he is not, He'll be there for a while, All England will smile, And South Africa know he is hot. Next in is the feisty KP, His batting, the top of the tree, Sixes so great, They should be worth eight, Now just stay IN for a hundred or three! A chap from ooop north who is good, Goes by the name of Paul Collingwood, Gritty and tough, We just can't get enough, Fight as hard as him, we all should. No more will the fear he smell, He's been down to the gym as well, His batting is slick, Number six does the trick, The crowd cheers for Ian Bell. Swinging his bat, it's Matt Prior, Born with iron grit, steel and fire, If he holds each catch, We'll win the match, And his ranking will go much higher. Our spinner is next, Mr Swann, His bowling is coming on strong, His batting is great, Which the opposition hate, Not to pick him much sooner was wrong. Our tall quickie is young Stuart Broad, His bat is a rapier like sword, He can oft' bowl too short, Yet the batters get caught, And Of wicket-taking we never are bored. James Anderson is our king of swing, Late movement his favourite thing, Please bowl nice and full, Offer nothing to pull, And just hear those stumps go 'ping'. Graeme Onions comes in at long last, Cannot bat but, he can bowl fast, He makes them play, While others may stray, Durham long-hops a thing of the past.
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Feb 9, 2010
Feb 9, 2010 at 10:59 PM UTC
Upbeat England XI
A bright lad called Alistair Cook Did enjoy the occasional book, He went out to bat, NO - don't play at that, They did him; line, sinker and hook. On him I'd bet my whole house, More like a lion than a mouse, He bats with aplomb, Both dainty and strong, It can only be Andrew Strauss. From the pavilion did Jonathan Trott, Nervous and anxious he is not, He'll be there for a while, All England will smile, And South Africa know he is hot. Next in is the feisty KP, His batting, the top of the tree, Sixes so great, They should be worth eight, Now just stay IN for a hundred or three! A chap from ooop north who is good, Goes by the name of Paul Collingwood, Gritty and tough, We just can't get enough, Fight as hard as him, we all should. No more will the fear he smell, He's been down to the gym as well, His batting is slick, Number six does the trick, The crowd cheers for Ian Bell. Swinging his bat, it's Matt Prior, Born with iron grit, steel and fire, If he holds each catch, We'll win the match, And his ranking will go much higher. Our spinner is next, Mr Swann, His bowling is coming on strong, His batting is great, Which the opposition hate, Not to pick him much sooner was wrong. Our tall quickie is young Stuart Broad, His bat is a rapier like sword, He can oft' bowl too short, Yet the batters get caught, And Of wicket-taking we never are bored. James Anderson is our king of swing, Late movement his favourite thing, Please bowl nice and full, Offer nothing to pull, And just hear those stumps go 'ping'. Graeme Onions comes in at long last, Cannot bat but, he can bowl fast, He makes them play, While others may stray, Durham long-hops a thing of the past.
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Jiminy Cricket needed a sport That little Pinocchio could play He didn't like tennis, the shorts were too short He didn't like skiing at an Alpine resort He didn't like squashing in a little squash court He didn't like pigeons or clay He dreamt of a game with a bat and a ball A game that could last all day long Where all would be welcome, the short and the tall Where language and creed didn't matter at all Where it could be played from the spring to the fall A game for both weak and the strong He pictured a game that was played on the grass That all the young kids could enjoy Where boys stood around, there was no need to pass Where scoring was easy and points would amass Where no one would notice or try to harass A mild mannered small wooden boy With pencil and paper, he had so much fun Designing his very own bat He wrote down the rules so they'd know who had won With six points for boundaries and one for a run And proudly admiring the work that he'd done He decided to call it "HOWZAT!"
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
A Sticky Wicket
I was treated like a pearl cause I was the only girl As time passed I started to blend in with the boys lost my softness and threw away all my toys I was seven when I held the fine wood bat for the first time I was eleven when I played my first match and took a catch that made my mates proud My love for cricket grew even deeper when I got my wicket Started to bowl bat and field took the role as captain and went with the lead It is engraved in my veins and forever it'll stay remain
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Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 1:38 PM UTC
My Love For Cricket
in the annals of cricket those of greatness get a mention for what they've achieved on the wicket these men stand head and shoulder above the rest their contribution to the game has been written as the best three men have inspired younger players in their homelands they've accomplished much on wickets throughout the many cricket playing lands Steven Waugh(Australian Captain) the master strategist who had a captain's mind replete with brilliant tactics when he took to the pitch the opposition teams would quiver in their collective boots field placement   over deliveries the weather conditions all of these factors actuated in his mind so he could bring an innings of a notable kind Sachin Tendulkar (Indian Batsman) the king of the blade who none can equal in test matches his cuts and cover drives were worthy of an epic prequel his style with the bat twas magic to see he had a prowess of majesty Vivian Richard (West Indies All Rounder) he was never phased he held his nerve with the bat or the ball a tradesman who fielded what ever came at him and in his relaxed style chewed on a piece of gum and demolish the bails with a Caribbean hum cricket's hall of fame that 22 yard pitch where three greatest of the game performances   did of fans ever bewitch
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
Cricket Greats
There's a lot of ***** in a cricket match, don't fancy catching them. There's a lot of bats and batsmen, and batsmen bat the ***** An umpire calls the shots but he don't bowl the ***** and a wicket keeper keeps no wickets but he looks after bails which are not ***** but if the bails fall the batsmen do too, are you following this? A no ball is still a ball and no ***** are still ***** which is all ***** if you ask me.
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
The village green
as the Indian pitches are always spin prepared few batsmen ever get well spared the bowler's turn of the ball does the trick there is that out sound in the bat's snick Aussie selectors must be aware of a slow delivery when they name the team who'll carry the livery quicks are a dead loss on the subcontinent time and again this has been so consistent if we want to win a test series on Indian soil we can't let our eleven be sent there to boil the wicket has constantly favored wrists and fingers so we don't require fast stinging zingers
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Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 8:47 PM UTC
Advice For The Australian Cricket Selectors
the Australians are playing a good brand of cricket they've got the English at sixes and sevens at the wicket our bowlers seem to be bowling with much strength all their delivers are of a fine line and length last time we met the English in an Ashes Series our Australian team played like a lot of old ladies but they've made some key changes to the team which shall yield our cricket side a winning dream play to-day sees the English batting at the wicket they've a bit of work to do on their cricket the Australian team are drilled to perfection with all their plays going in the right direction the Australian's catching and fielding has improved we'll be making sure that all the English are removed twill be a goodly day at the Gabba Cricket Ground watching the English batting heading outbound
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Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
The Ashes Series
Recruitment without Naukri Is like a cobra Stripped of its venom A tree without leaves A musician without an instrument A Mutton Biryani without the mutton A laptop without a battery I can go on and on But you get the gist, right? Recruitment without Naukri How does it even work? Of course, there are other portals LinkedIn, Monster, Indeed TimesJobs, Shine, Updazz Dice, Hirist, Instahyre But do they even come close To matching the pin-point accuracy The sheer amount of detailing The refreshing practicality And finally, the user-friendliness That Naukri brings to the table? The answer to that, unfortunately Is a resounding no Recruitment without Naukri? Can it be managed? As mentioned earlier There are other portals But will your boss be ready to pay For any of them, apart from LinkedIn? The answer to that, unfortunately Is again a resounding no Recruitment without Naukri Coupled with a miserly boss Is like chasing 350 in 50 overs On a seaming wicket at Leeds All your hard work at the nets Goes to the drain As you keep trying to hit boundaries And end up getting clean bowled instead Ultimately, the loser is not the client Not the boss either It is you, and only you
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May 20, 2021
May 20, 2021 at 2:22 AM UTC
Recruitment without Naukri
Hai అనే మాటతో heart నే హాయిగా దోచేసిందే Happy bird లా చేరాకా Hypertension నాలో హతం అయ్యిందే నా Heartbeat levels అన్ని నీ మాటల సరిగమలకు లొంగిపోయాయే ****** ని తలదన్నే కోపాన్నే Hit the wicket చేసిందే Homely man గా ఉండేట్టు softness నాలో పెంచావే హంసలాగా ఉన్నావే Hum చేస్తూ చంపుతున్నావే Hydrogen gas అల్లే ఆశలన్ని put off చేయబోకే Oxygen మాదిరి ఆశలను వెలిగించాలే   Heat చేయు Sun కన్నా cool చేసే Moon లాగా మారిపోవే Happy  tone వినపడేలా greet చేసి ఉండిపోవే
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Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
263. Hai అనే మాటతో
Cricket fever rising high, As the game unfolds Under the sky..! Every wicket, every run, Watching it all is so much fun. Spectators cheering full of life, Commentators too adding some spice. Twists and turns with every ball, Each shot decides the teams rise or fall. Some winning streaks, some losing shots, One teams gain is the others loss. And as the winners celebrate their win, Losing too is not a sin, As it may be a blessing in disguise! For you can always Rise & Shine∞∞
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Jul 2, 2017
Jul 2, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
Rise & Shine
Forlorn, I sit and mourn What could have been, From the boundary, trying not to be seen. Misanthropic. A tiny nick Has snuffed out my life, Success always resting on the edge of a knife. Melancholy, I sit here pondering, sorry. Should be out there fighting. Every strike sounding like lighting. Company, I rushed too hurriedly, Spurned our honour And became connon fodder, Because I got the plan wrong, Sung the wrong song, Overstretched, Regret etched Across my face, Death dressed in lace, Struggling on a sticky wicket, I guess that is just cricket.
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Aug 21, 2023
Aug 21, 2023 at 11:00 AM UTC
Stroke of Death
capitulation is on the English sides mind their brand of cricket has been of an awful kind this ashes series our Australian side blew them away as they had a very stylish form of play the bowling and batting of the Australian team has wrecked the English lads winning dream our lads didn't put a foot wrong on the wicket they were a class act at playing the game of cricket the last match in the series is on to-day and the Australians will most certainly be making hay at this stage they've got the English struggling they've not got enough fire power in their batting after the lunch break we'll have the English all out they'll be wearing the odd ****** pout they've not prepared well in any facet of the game which has been a terrible shame the annuls of cricket shall record England's loss and speak glowingly of the Australian teams gloss the 2013-2014 ashes series a series of capitulation where the English didn't play well against our nation
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Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
Capitulation(Sports Poem)
Leicestershire's Alan Mullally Loved getting a 5 wicket tally Landing the seam On wickets of green Would drive the opponents do-lally. He was tall and he was lean But he was never really mean He kept it tight Thru day and night The best that Leicestershire's seen One day he scored twenty-four Pakistan were on the floor He hit it miles Akram had piles That just might settle the score. In the world he reached number two It was a lovely thing to do He bowled so straight He moved it late A great seamer through and through.
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Feb 9, 2010
Feb 9, 2010 at 10:30 PM UTC
Ode to Alan Mullally
your choices narrow since the gate's not wide but yet is ample once you choose your way all you must do is set apart your pride not just in honour but in the best allied arts you have studied since your first calm day your choices narrow since the gate's not wide enough for coaches in which large folk ride but humbler folk might still that path essay all you must do is set apart your pride from hope and anguish both yet never hide your expectation of what we might say your choices narrow since the gate's not wide yet little matters since we will not collide with foolish beings who will not obey all you must do is set apart your pride and just be ready to confront the tide that still treats us as objects of its play your choices narrow since the gate's not wide all you must do is set apart your pride
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Oct 2, 2011
Oct 2, 2011 at 5:59 PM UTC
the wicket portal