Tag Archives: Seahawks

Episode 12: A New Hope

There once was a Seahawks QB

Who wore a shirt that said “3”.

The fans said “Oh no”

When they watched Russell go

But now they chant “Geno for me!”

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The 11.5th Man

Today I watched a once great team

Catch on fire, but die as steam,

Lead on offense by a bust

Who makes us say “In Smith We Trust.”

On the flip side now I know

How Michael Jackson puts on a show.

Do we suck? Yeah, probably!

But I still love the hawks, so whee!

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Yes, I Accept Requests (Also, Go Hawks)

I was asked by a fan not named Ringo

To write a poem about Barkevius Mingo.

He isn’t a slacker

As an outside linebacker

But his surname limits my descriptive lingo.


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There’s Joy In Mudville Again!

Blair Walsh missed three tries tonight.

He didn’t have a choice.

The fans will go home sobbing,

But Mighty Casey will rejoice.

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Hint: I’m Burning The American Southeast In Effigy

It’s my birthday.

The Seahawks lost.

You may or may not draw

An accurate conclusion

Of my happiness (or lack thereof)

Based on that information.

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When 11 Just Aren’t Cutting It

Sometimes in our busy lives

The screaming kids and missing socks

Distract us from our due worship

Of our beloved Seattle ‘Hawks.

And so as Rodgers tossed the ball

Three downs into the third

The socks and kids conspired

Against the Northwest’s bird.

The Hawks restores our shattered hopes

A dozen micro-plays from there

When Hauschka’s kick from 28

Soared for 3 through frigid air.

The Packers missed a field goal kick

And took a penalty for 15. It

Will no longer please me writing this

‘Cause the rest of the game was shit.

Wilson threw like the guy by you

Who thinks he could throw better.

The interceptions just kept coming

And our eyes kept growing wetter.

Into this devestations causes

I dare not think to delve.

I can only say it’s all your fault.

Next time be a better twelve.

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Read This Poem To Your Children… You’ll Thank Me Later

Seahawks run.

Hawks run slowly.

Seahawks run quickly.

Spelling matters.

Patriots suck.

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And Then There Were Eleven Men Again

I’ve no fondness for New England.

Denver’s nice, I guess.

Cardinals aren’t my favorite birds.

Alas, I must confess

I’ve reached a decisive time:

I’ve stopped seeking out answers.

I’ve abandoned all reason and rhyme.

I just pray for the defeat of the Panthers.

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The Bathrooms Are Clean In Seattle

There was moisture on

The toilet seat.

Somebody had to

Take the heat

For failing to properly

Aim their piss.

We blamed the Minnesotan,

‘Cause when it counts, they miss.

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