Poetry Corner

Who said keepers don't have feelings?

 

 

Game Face

 

Why does my face look so livid and grim?

Why does fire burn at my eyebrow’s brim? 

Who traded my marbles for those crazy stares?

Who traded my emotions for bruises and tears?

Where were my rivals while I fostered my form?

Where raspberries bloom in rout, drought, and storm?

What can ya’ do?  I want the best that you’ve got!

What else can I do?  A cleated head hits the spot!

When is physical pain not a welcome reward?

When faced with the torment of goals scored?

 

-Paul DelloStritto

 

 

Bring It

 

Praise the Lord!  For my shortcomings,

Call me Fido, and they are just,

Knock me down, but I’m forthcoming,

To spring ahead, fall back’s must.

Break my back, or eat my dust,

It will but procure my lust.

Beat me down, or send me bumming,

Next time, for you, for sure, I’m gunning,

Your oils grease the joints I’ve rust.

And in the end, it’s you who’s stunning,

My fire was emblazoned by your gust.

Your knocks prevent contentment’s shunning,

Thanks much for the grandeur of my bust!

 

-Paul DelloStritto

 

 

U-9

 

They know not the rules,

Nor do they care,

Like ball crazed fools,

With dirt in their hair,

Half boy, half ghoul,

In defense of his lair,

Engaging in duels,

Alone or in pairs,

Until all his tools,

Are worse for the wear,

And his family jewels,

Can no longer bear,

Perspiration in pools,

Or the truth, or the dare,

Or what is fair.

 

-Paul DelloStritto