What do you reckon?
The Olympic Torch has passed by, but not through my home town!
I couldn’t go to see it, as it was handed down,
A line of worthy people, who ran or walked or hopped,
But one thing is for certain, that flame will not be stopped.
It has warmed the hearts of millions, as it lit their rainy street,
And it will arrive soon down in London, to inspire those who compete.
the devil's olympics
beach volleyball's fine in tropical Rio
but when temperatures hover just above zero
the rules need to bend, not follow the letter
to allow for the wearing of jumpers and sweater
I love water polo - but these chaps are phonies
it's contra the rules not to be on their ponies
the modern pentathalon is barely alive
it must have been wicked in 1905
of synchronised swimming, let us not snigger
though it looks rather strange if ones a lot bigger
taekwando, boxing, fencing and shooting
of these I'll not say a word
to avoid being punched, kicked, shot at
or even just poked with a sword
except to ask if on a joyous occasion
they aren't a little absurd
Loved that one, Turnip
I jumped over hurdles once,
Through hoops as well!
An athlete could not have trained harder
To reach the peak of fitness.
Stamina knew no boundaries,
Do they sit now, like me?
Those toned and athletic bodies,
With the jump sticks scattered,
But the stop-watch, still marking
Time and Motion.
more of the same...it seems to be in yorkshire for no particular reason
av bin trainin for t'lympics
all day an every night
gettin sofa ready
the cushins were a fright
av moved fridge to thi front room
so lagers all in reach
thirteen dozens sossidg rolls
n for vitmins - a peach
av bott miself a poofy
on which mi feet can rest
after sprintin to the bog
their sometimes not the best
there blackouts on the windows
ti keep out awkward sun
and a twenty litre ashtray
so I don't miss any fun
I am homolympus
thi pinnacle of man
i've a marathon to finish
so pass us one more can
Turnip, that poem has made my day. It was inspired!
It wer' gud an-all
it werr nowt
Nah then, thou two – tha marn’t be feightin’.
Hello Lily. How are you?
I don't think many people are inspired by this thread. I have never bothered much about the Olympics myself, but I do think I ought to rise to the occasion!
I can't be bothered with Wimbledon anymore but used to love it. Happily, I don't blame Parkinson's for that ( it must be the only thing!) I blame the style of play nowadays.
How I wish I could go for an early morning swim now - I used to go most mornings. I can't begin to imagine how I did it!
Excuse my ramblings - blame P.D.!!!
swimming is great but heck
it gives me a pain in the neck
running long distance and sprints
resulted in wicked shin splints
cycling made me feel free
but gave me an ache in the knee
rowing was great exercise
tendonitis was not a surprise
now I warm up and prepare
for the morning attempt at the stairs
but I fear I wont be there
if I can't get out of this chair
I’d love to go out on my bike,
And over hills and fields I’d hike.
Put on shorts, go for a run,
Game of tennis in the sun.
Playing squash would do me good,
Oh! How I wish I could!
In the gym, a treadmill walk
To watch the others, I now balk
Row sixty minutes on machine,
Come back and tell you where I’d been.
Exercising at a class,
Step or zumba, I’d not pass.
I’d be in there like a shot….
If I’d not got…..
….. this thing I’ve got!
Sitting here I’m fit to burst,
And of my poems this is the worst!
i occasionally get the heretical idea that exercise might cause free radicals that cause pd. now that would be ironic. not funny, but definitely ironic.
supplementary question for 10 points
student A goes for a run round campus
student B has a coffee and cigarette
which has made parkinsons more likely?
answer - student A
Parkinson's by Louis Kasatkin.
broken words ,
lying empty ,
some of the words are... ,
parts of syntax...... missing ,
if simply misplaced ,
we can't find....... ,
what should...... be...... ,
familiar patterns have...... ,
grown....... fuzzy....... edges ,
around them........... ...... those ,
words....... broken...... ,
some of the........ are..... ,
broken.. broken............. broken ,
......... are ............ ......... words ,
words....... are......... lying.
The above poem has been reproduced by kind permission of the author. I found it on a web page for poets. His Father has Parkinson's and I was very taken by the layout of the poem. By the way it looks much better spread out on the page as he originally designed it.
When the darkness envelops,
Lingering and seemingly impenetrable,
Eclipsing the light and warmth of each new breaking day,
Stifling , the very act of breathing,
May the memories of sun filled days,
That nothing ,not time , nor pain can erode away,
Explode from within your soul,
Filling each new dawn with a kaleidoscope of colour,
And the smell of a mixed bouquet ,of a hundred million fruits and flowers,
To a symphony of music ,
For death cannot with its dark cape contain the light,
Dull the senses,
Nor stifle the melody of a soulful life.
Dear Marcel slightly arwed !
SORRY TYPO LOL!
Archery, athletics, basketball,
Badminton, beach-ball or box.
Canoe sprint or slalom, cycle or dive,
Ride a horse but don’t chase a fox!
Fencing and football, gymnastics with flair!
Handball and hockey? Do you wish to be there?
Judo, pentathlon, rowing or sail,
Shooting or swimming on synchronised scale.
Tennis on table and tennis on court,
Taekwondo now classed Olympian sport.
Trampoline and volleyball, polo in water,
Lift heavy weights in weight-lifting quarter
Last on the list, wrestling is found,
All Olympic contestants, 2012 London bound!
Not into the Olympics
Reminds me of school
Sports day, was so cruel
We all took part
Standing on the line
Ready and waiting for the sign
Teacher shouts ready steady GO
Off we Run as fast as we could
Always one who was really good
First to be at the finish line
I never stood a chance
But maybe just maybe next time.