If you have a friend who is male
Here’s a game that will never get stale:
Find a sports team or three,
Guess who’ll win, disagree…
You’ll be right half the time without fail!
If you have a friend who is male
Here’s a game that will never get stale:
Find a sports team or three,
Guess who’ll win, disagree…
You’ll be right half the time without fail!
Filed under Poems
To those who make their homes beneath rocks
I offer this poetic plea
Regarding demonstrations by civilians and jocks
With the hopes you will listen to me.
Yes, it’s important all people are equals
And treated with love and respect.
Yes, there’s been push-back, misinterpretation,
But, frankly, what did you expect?
The symbols with which you display your ideals
May change some opinions for sure;
If I spit on a puppy and say “Yay world peace!”
You might doubt my intentions are pure.
Likewise if you stand for freedom and justice
By kneeling in front of a flag,
By fleeing from songs about love for our nation
Some people will think you’re a drag.
If instead when the anthem is sung by our siblings
And you stand to honor our banner
Those who disparage your reason for protest
No longer disparage its manner.
And after you’ve captured the ear of your rivals
You show them the point you want made
You swapped some derision for some indecision
And that is a valuable trade.
To those who were hateful and know are uncertain
You do not decry them as bad
But make your point clear and then disappear.
Don’t be an unskippable ad!
Don’t show what’s troublesome, worrying, scary
By showing disdain for what’s good.
Instead show you’re with us, then raise our awareness
And maybe we’ll do as we should.
And if we keep not being how you would wish us,
Disrespect you, or call you a name,
Consider the best way to make the world better
Is simply to not do the same.
I don’t ask this often, but if you agree with my perspective, please share this poem.
Share it with those who think as you do, because they’ll likely enjoy it too.
Share it with those with whom you disagree, for that is the path to the change we must see.
Share it with those who will argue and fight. You may not kill darkness, but you can shine a light.
Share it with those with whom you would be one, for we share the same air, the same earth, the same sun.
Filed under Poems, To the Reader
Soccer’s like “The Notebook:”
I’ve never watched for more than a minute,
I consider it nap-time
And don’t like anyone in it.
Soccer and I
Are also much alike
In that no one ever scores
And the entertainment it creates has unsatisfying conclusions.
Filed under Poems
Greg is 17-foot-3,
Runs faster than the eye can see,
And more impressive than Greg’s size is
How Greg’s won four Nobel Prizes.
Greg is just 18 years old.
All Greg touches turns to gold.
Greg’s backstory’s very tragical
Which makes Greg seem even more magical.
Greg declared the other day
Greg wants to play in the NBA.
The coaches laughed ’til they soiled their pants…
Greg once said, “Cops are fine,” so Greg never stood a chance.
Filed under Poems
Somewhere in Heaven
The Gods all look down
At the biggest of cities
And the tiniest town,
They watch people playin’
And workin’ and sleepin’
(It’s okay that they watch us
‘Cause Gods can’t be creepin’).
They shout for our victories,
Sob for our failings,
But one thing holds constant
For all of their wailings:
All Gods will swear
On all that is pious
That those damned referees
Are all fuckin’ biased.
Filed under Poems
If their best player’s white
You’re not doing it right.
Filed under Poems
There’s an argument in the USA
About soccer teams and equal pay
‘Cause men got paid more overall
Despite the women winning all the way.
The other side of this tirade
Says the male players are underpaid
Because the revenue their team produced
Was 55 times more than the women’s team made.
Now how revenue or standings weigh
On the importance scale I can’t say.
The real question is, in 2019,
Why won’t this stupid sport just go away?
Vikings killed a lot of folks;
Bears and lions too.
Warriors kill a lot of folks
‘Cause that’s just what they do.
Tigers, dolphins, bulldogs, eagles
Kill lots of stuff, and yet
No high school that I know of
Has picked a Hitler mascot yet.
Filed under Poems
I think that women’s basketball
And the WNBA
Deserve credit for helping
So many girls admit they’re gay.
But when they start demanding
More fair and equal pays
It behooves them to remember
That you can’t have both these days.
See, the typical NBA guy
Eats 2,000 pounds per day
Is 12 feet tall and has a trunk
And their skin is tough and gray.
The typical WNBA-er
Is about the same, you see
Except no one will pay to see her
‘Cause she’s only five-foot-three.
At one game we ask “do you think
“Shaquille can dunk on Mike?”
At the other game we wonder
“You think that one’s not a dyke?”
But if you score a hundred points
In every single game
And hire a player anyone
Would recognize by name
And sell out any contest
Then we’ll pay you like Jeff Teague.
Until you do, just be content
That you still have a league.
Filed under Poems
As I jogged through the locker room door
Coach was shouting “This is what we play for!”
I said “What coach means to say
“Is ‘this is that for which we play.'”
I guess that questioning coach’s decision
To end a cheer with a preposition
Resulted in, so it would seem,
My no longer being on the team.
While you might expect, after my blunder,
That I hope, in my absence, the team goes under
I don’t seek vengeance for my woes…
And it’s “In my absence I hope under is where my team goes.”
Filed under Poems