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Sport must be amateur or it is not sport. Sports played professionally are entertainment.

quote by Avery Brundage
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University Of Central Florida Volleyball

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Entertainment

Theres been another assassination
T.v. cameras moving in.
To shoot the bloodstains on the pavement
And get them on the news at ten.
Will he live or will he die, before we go on the air?
Yes, the networks are all there, in the name of
Entertainment.
Superstar psycho, from a killer to a hero,
An overnight sensation on the lips of all the nation
Is he mad or is he sane? it makes for good conversation
I call it suffering and pain, but they call it entertainment
Sex violence murder and rape. (entertainment entertainment)
Thats what you came for, thats what you pay for.
Entertainment, entertainment.
They call it entertainment
Inform us, educate us with your media machine
(call it entertainment)
Tell me what to dream
(call it entertainment)
You pay your money, what do you get?
Entertainment.
Real life for entertainment,
Cheapens my reality,
So that hollywood can make it into another b movie
The vultures get the rating and the people get the thrills
But the victims always pay, I guess they always will.
Sex violence murder and rape (entertainment entertainment)
Thats what you want, thats what they need,
Thats what you came for, thats what your paying for.
They call it entertainment (call it entertainment)
Inform us, educate us with your media machine,
(call it entertainment)
Tell me what to dream
(call it entertainment)
You pay your money, what do you get?
Entertainment, entertainment.

song performed by Kinks
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Veterinary Camps

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Using Boot Camp

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Amateur Hour

Dont make me sad
Talking bout tomorrow
Its not so bad
We were doing fine just then
Youll move on up, youll move on out
And you wont cry
cause your amateur hour is over
Youre only going where Ive been
And youll see what Ive seen
Youre no amateur - amateur
You know if someone likes your face
Youd be a fool to stay strictly amateur
Its strictly for amateurs
The world could be a better place
If some of us could stay
Amateurs
Theres no more time
To think about the way ahead
Just miss one line
Fall over - youll be left for dead
Your heart will play no part except
When memories of your amateur hour take over
Then screw yourself into a ball
And keep it rolling on
Youre no amateur - amateur
You know if someone likes your face
Youd be a fool to stay strictly amateur
Its strictly for amateurs
The world could be a better place
If some of us could stay
Amateurs
Dont make me sad
Its not so bad

song performed by Joe Jackson
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Twin State

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Allegany Camp

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Thats Entertainment

A police car and a screaming siren
A pnuematic drill and ripped up concrete
A baby waiting and stray dog howling
The screech of brakes and lamplights blinking
Thats entertainment
A smash of glass and the rumble of boots
An electric train and a ripped up phone booth
Paint splattered walls and the cry of a tomcat
Lights going out and a kick in the balls
Thats entertainment
Days of speed and slow time mondays
Pissing down with rain on a boring wednesday
Watching the news and not eating your tea
A freezing cold flat and damp on the walls
Thats entertainment
Waking up at 6 a.m. on a cool warm morning
Opening the windows and breathing in petrol
An amateur band rehearsing in a nearby yard
Watching the tele and thinking about your holidays
Thats entertainment
Waking up from bad dreams and smoking cigarettes
Cuddling a warm girl and smelling stale perfume
A hot summers day and sticky black tarmac
Feeding ducks in the park and wishing you were faraway
Thats entertainment
Two lovers kissing amongst the scream of midnight
Two lovers missing the tranquility of solitude
Getting a cab and travelling on buses
Reading the grafitti about slashed seat affairs
Thats entertainment

song performed by Face To Face
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Thats Entertainment

Police car with a screaming siren
Pneumatic drill on ripped-up concrete
Baby wails, a stray dog howling
Brakes screech as lamp light blinking
Thats entertainment
Thats entertainment
Smash of glass and a rumble of boots
Electric train and a ripped up phone booth
A hot day and a sticky black tarmac
A hot day and Im wishing I was far away
Thats entertainment
Thats entertainment
La, la, la
La, la, la
Days of speed and a slow time mondays
Wake up at 6 am and think about your holidays
Open window and breathe in petrol
Cold flat with damp on the walls
Yes, thats entertainment
Thats entertainment
La, la, la
La, la, la
La, la, la
La, la, la
Two lovers kissing over screams of midnight
Two lovers miss the tranquility of solitude
Read grafitti of slash-seat affairs
Splattered walls and a kick in the balls
Is all that you get - in the name of entertainment
La, la, la
La, la, la ...

song performed by Morrissey
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A Disqualified Jockey's Story

You see, the thing was this way -- there was me,
That rode Panopply, the Splendor mare,
And Ikey Chambers on the Iron Dook,
And Smith, the half-caste rider on Regret,
And that long bloke from Wagga -- him that rode
Veronikew, the Snowy River horse.
Well, none of them had chances -- not a chance
Among the lot, unless the rest fell dead
Or wasn't trying -- for a blind man's dog
Could see Enchantress was a certain cop,
And all the books was layin' six to four.
They brought her out to show our lot the road,
Or so they said: but, then Gord's truth! you know,
You can believe 'em, though they took an oath
On forty Bibles that they's tell the truth.
But anyhow, an amateur was up
On this Enchantress; and so Ike and me,
We thought that we might frighten him a bit
By asking if he minded riding rough --
"Oh, not at all," says he, "oh, not at all!
I heard at Robbo Park, and if it comes
To bumping I'm your Moses! Strike me blue!"

Says he, "I'll bump you over either rail,
The inside rail or outside -- which you choose
Is good enough for me" -- which settled Ike.
For he was shaky since he near got killed
From being sent a buster on the rail,
When some chap bumped his horse and fetched him down
At Stony Bridge; so Ikey thought it best
To leave this bloke alone, and I agreed.

So all the books was layin' six to four
Against the favourite, and the amateur
Was walking this Enchantress up and down,
And me and Smithy backed him; for we thought
We might as well get something for ourselves,
Because we knew our horses couldn't win.
But Ikey wouldn't back him for a bob;
Because he said he reckoned he was stiff,
And all the books was layin' six to four.

Well, anyhow, before the start the news
Got around that this here amateur was stiff,
And our good stuff was blued, and all the books
Was in it, and the prices lengthened out,
And every book was bustin' of his throat,
And layin' five to one the favourite.
So there was we that couldn't win ourselves,
And this here amateur that wouldn't try,

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Old Upright Piano

For as long as I remember, when friday night came round
The family would gather out at grandpas house.
With supper over and the dishes done
It was then the best time came
At an old upright piano that only grandma played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
Grandpa was a stubborn man, they said it was his style.
Grandma called him ornery, but she said it with a smile.
Even he could not disguise the love he felt so strong;
We all could see it in his eyes when she played his favorite song.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
I was almost 17 when my grandma died;
I stayed all night with grandpa; the old man never cried.
He sat at her piano, there was nothing we could say
It was the first time in my life I ever heard my grandpa play.
It wasnt beautiful dreamer or my wild irish rose
It was a song he played from memory & he never missed a note
I sat right there beside him until the morning came
What a friend we have in jesus was the only song he played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.

song performed by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
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The Deserted Village

Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,
Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain,
Where smiling spring its earliest visits paid,
And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed:
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,
Seats of my youth, where every sport could please,
How often have I loitered o'er your green,
Where humble happiness endeared each scene;
How often have I paused on every charm,
The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm,
The never-failing brook, the busy mill,
The decent church that topped the neighbouring hill,
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,
For talking age and whispering lovers made;
How often have I blessed the coming day,
When toil remitting lent its turn to play,
And all the village train, from labour free,
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree:
While many a pastime circled in the shade,
The young contending as the old surveyed;
And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground,
And sleights of art and feats of strength went round;
And still as each repeated pleasure tired,
Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired;
The dancing pair that simply sought renown
By holding out to tire each other down!
The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,
While secret laughter tittered round the place;
The bashful virgin's sidelong look of love,
The matron's glance that would those looks reprove:
These were thy charms, sweet village; sports like these,
With sweet succession, taught even toil to please;
These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,
These were thy charms—But all these charms are fled.

Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn,
Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn;
Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen,
And desolation saddens all thy green:
One only master grasps the whole domain,
And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain:
No more thy glassy brook reflects the day,
But choked with sedges works its weedy way.
Along thy glades, a solitary guest,
The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest;
Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies,
And tires their echoes with unvaried cries.
Sunk are thy bowers, in shapeless ruin all,
And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall;
And, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand,

[...] Read more

poem by Oliver Goldsmith
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Sobre Horizontes

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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The Odyssey: Book 8

Now when the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared,
Alcinous and Ulysses both rose, and Alcinous led the way to the
Phaecian place of assembly, which was near the ships. When they got
there they sat down side by side on a seat of polished stone, while
Minerva took the form of one of Alcinous' servants, and went round the
town in order to help Ulysses to get home. She went up to the
citizens, man by man, and said, "Aldermen and town councillors of
the Phaeacians, come to the assembly all of you and listen to the
stranger who has just come off a long voyage to the house of King
Alcinous; he looks like an immortal god."
With these words she made them all want to come, and they flocked to
the assembly till seats and standing room were alike crowded. Every
one was struck with the appearance of Ulysses, for Minerva had
beautified him about the head and shoulders, making him look taller
and stouter than he really was, that he might impress the Phaecians
favourably as being a very remarkable man, and might come off well
in the many trials of skill to which they would challenge him. Then,
when they were got together, Alcinous spoke:
"Hear me," said he, "aldermen and town councillors of the
Phaeacians, that I may speak even as I am minded. This stranger,
whoever he may be, has found his way to my house from somewhere or
other either East or West. He wants an escort and wishes to have the
matter settled. Let us then get one ready for him, as we have done for
others before him; indeed, no one who ever yet came to my house has
been able to complain of me for not speeding on his way soon enough.
Let us draw a ship into the sea- one that has never yet made a voyage-
and man her with two and fifty of our smartest young sailors. Then
when you have made fast your oars each by his own seat, leave the ship
and come to my house to prepare a feast. I will find you in
everything. I am giving will these instructions to the young men who
will form the crew, for as regards you aldermen and town
councillors, you will join me in entertaining our guest in the
cloisters. I can take no excuses, and we will have Demodocus to sing
to us; for there is no bard like him whatever he may choose to sing
about."
Alcinous then led the way, and the others followed after, while a
servant went to fetch Demodocus. The fifty-two picked oarsmen went
to the sea shore as they had been told, and when they got there they
drew the ship into the water, got her mast and sails inside her, bound
the oars to the thole-pins with twisted thongs of leather, all in
due course, and spread the white sails aloft. They moored the vessel a
little way out from land, and then came on shore and went to the house
of King Alcinous. The outhouses, yards, and all the precincts were
filled with crowds of men in great multitudes both old and young;
and Alcinous killed them a dozen sheep, eight full grown pigs, and two
oxen. These they skinned and dressed so as to provide a magnificent
banquet.
A servant presently led in the famous bard Demodocus, whom the
muse had dearly loved, but to whom she had given both good and evil,
for though she had endowed him with a divine gift of song, she had

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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You Played Yourself

Verse 1
This is it, dope from the fly kid
The ice mic is back with the high bid
Suckers youve lost cos players youre not, gangstas you aint
Youre faintin, punk, if you ever heard a gunshot
Yo, the pusher, the player, the pimp gangsta, the hustler
High roller, dead pres folder
Is cold lampin like a black king on a throne
Evil e...turn up the microphone
So I can ill and break on the rollin tape
Another album to make? great
Islam turn the bass kick up a bit
Hype the snare, now I got a place to sit
And ride the track like a black mack in his lac
Hit the corner slow where the girls are at
And kick game the way it should be done
How you gonna drop science? youre dumb
Stupid ignorant, dont even talk to me
At school you dropped math, science and history
And then you get on the mic and try to act smart
Well let me tell you one thing, you got heart
To perpetrate, youre bait, so just wait
Till the press shove a mic in your face
Or you meet boogie down or chuck d
Stetsasonic or the big daddy
And they ask you about the game you claim you got
Drop science now, why not?
You start to sweat and fret, it gets hot
Howd you get into this spot?
You played yourself...
Yo, yo, you played yourself...
Verse 2
Im no authority but I know the d-e-a-l
When it comes to dealin with the females
What you got they want, cash is what they need
Slip sucker and theyll break you with speed
But you meet a freak, you try to turn her out
Spendin moneys what Im talkin about
But you fool out, your pockets got blew out
And after the date, no boots, you got threw out
Mad and shook cos your duckets got took
Call her up, phones off the hook
But who told you to front and flaunt your grip?
You cant buy no relationship
You played yourself...
Yo, homeboy, you played yourself...
Verse 3
Im in the mc game, a lot of mcs front
And for the money theyre sell out stunts
But they claim that theyre rich and that they keep cash

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song performed by Ice T
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A House In The Country

He don't need no sedatives to ease his troubled mind.
At work he is invariably unpleasant and unkind.
Why should he care if he is hated in his home,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
He's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
But he ain't gotta home, oh no,
And he's as wicked as he can be,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
Well, he got his job when drunken Daddy tumbled down the stairs.
From that very day this boy is more than having his share.
One of these days I'm gonna knock him off of his throne,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
He's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
And he's oh so smug, oh yeah.
He's got everything he needs,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
And he's oh so smug, oh yeah.
He's got everything he needs,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
He's gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
But he's socially dead, oh yeah,
And it don't matter much to him,
'Cause he's gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
House in the country
House in the country
House in the country
House in the country

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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House In The Country

He dont need no sedatives to ease his troubled mind.
At work he is invariably unpleasant and unkind.
Why should he care if he is hated in his home,
cause hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
Hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
But he aint gotta home, oh no,
And hes as wicked as he can be,
cause hes gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
Well, he got his job when drunken daddy tumbled down the stairs.
From that very day this boy is more than having his share.
One of these days Im gonna knock him off of his throne,
cause hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
Hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
And hes oh so smug, oh yeah.
Hes got everything he needs,
cause hes gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
And hes oh so smug, oh yeah.
Hes got everything he needs,
cause hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
Hes gotta house in the country,
And a big sports car.
But hes socially dead, oh yeah,
And it dont matter much to him,
cause hes gotta house in the country
Where he likes to spend his weekend days.
Oh yeah, oh yeah, well all right
House in the country
House in the country
House in the country
House in the country

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Marlboro Olympics

We all know of the Olympics
For athletes who are fit
What if we organised new games
And changed the rules a bit?

The tournament - its now unfair
Only the best compete
And all those who're less able
Could never win a heat.

So let our new rules equalise
The young 'n old and slow 'n fast
And let's introduce some new sports
In which the fittest may come last.

We will all compete on equal terms
In worldwide competition
No - this is not an empty dream
But a new Olympic vision.

We need to find us something
That the fittest do not do
And make it central to our games
The Olympics born anew.

We shall introduce some new sports
And new rules for the rest
But what will change above all else
Is smoking cigarettes.

Yes! The Marlboro Olympics!
Or whoever else will pay
To support our global smoking sports
And a more level field of play.

We've already got a logo
Entwined smoke rings in the sky
Just like those Olympic rings
But more pleasing to the eye.

The opportunity's enormous!
Just imagine that you're there
Oh the beauty of gynastics
With smoke swirling in the air!

Or in those cycle races
Where bottled water cyclists get
Now handed out throughout the race
Are successive cigarettes.

[...] Read more

poem by David Keig
Added by Poetry Lover
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Salmacis and Hermaphroditus.

MY wanton lines doe treate of amorous loue,
Such as would bow the hearts of gods aboue:
Then Venus, thou great Citherean Queene,
That hourely tript on the Idalian greene,
Thou laughing Erycina, daygne to see
The verses wholly consecrate to thee;
Temper them so within thy Paphian shrine,
That euery Louers eye may melt a line;
Commaund the god of Loue that little King,
To giue each verse a sleight touch with his wing,
That as I write, one line may draw the tother,
And euery word skip nimbly o're another.
There was a louely boy the Nymphs had kept,
That on the Idane mountains oft had slept,
Begot and borne by powers that dwelt aboue,
By learned Mercury of the Queene of loue:
A face he had that shew'd his parents fame,
And from them both conioynd, he drew his name:
So wondrous fayre he was that (as they say)
Diana being hunting on a day,
Shee saw the boy vpon a greene banke lay him,
And there the virgin-huntresse meant to slay him,
Because no Nymphes did now pursue the chase:
For all were strooke blind with the wanton's face.
But when that beauteous face Diana saw,
Her armes were nummed, & shee could not draw;
Yet she did striue to shoot, but all in vaine,
Shee bent her bow, and loos'd it streight againe.
Then she began to chide her wanton eye,
And fayne would shoot, but durst not see him die,
She turnd and shot, and did of purpose misse him,
Shee turnd againe, and did of purpose kisse him.
Then the boy ran: for (some say) had he stayd,
Diana had no longer bene a mayd.
Phoebus so doted on this rosiat face,
That he hath oft stole closely from his place,
When he did lie by fayre Leucothoes side,
To dally with him in the vales of Ide:
And euer since this louely boy did die,
Phoebus each day about the world doth flie,
And on the earth he seekes him all the day,
And euery night he seekes him in the sea:
His cheeke was sanguine, and his lip as red
As are the blushing leaues of the Rose spred:
And I haue heard, that till this boy was borne,
Rose grew white vpon the virgin thorne,
Till one day walking to a pleasant spring,
To heare how cunningly the birds could sing,
Laying him downe vpon a flowry bed,
The Roses blush'd and turn'd themselues to red.

[...] Read more

poem by Francis Beaumont
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A waka waka waka

“To shine “meaning Waka, waka, waka
Well thought over terms in South Africa
All countries assembled there for sports meet
Not to go off line at all and ready to greet

World sport lovers meet is staged
Everything is beautifully arranged
Fine display of sports spirit
There is high hope with glimmering light

Sport spirit is flying high and show is well managed
Enough care is taken to improve upon and relation not damaged
It is unique gathering on large scale to make it grand success
Whole world watches it on screen with planned approach and access

It is difficult to take care of national sentiments
The crowd remains active and offer encouragement with comments
It is hard and difficult task to control the out burst with patience
Light flare up can lead to unnecessary scuffle and jeopardize session

It is national pride and befitting status to stage show on such large scale
World comes closer like sea and allowing movements for giants like whale
Every athlete or team is in it self is a complete composition
It enhances he pride and elevates the prestige for nation

It is well know fact that sports bind nations together
Hostility is completely forgotten and no one bothers
You may find high tempo running among nations to score outright win
It is of course do or die battle but situation can be win or no win

The host country may earn in millions
The total viewers may exceed in trillions
Above all it is great get together and biggest union
World may soon to realize how best to live in cohesion

The sport light taken across continent conveys the message
The international peace and brotherhoods have clear passage
The countries may be fighting bitterly for ages
It will great achievement if they forget for moment and manage

You may not love to each other if no chance is afforded
Peace and stability can’t exist if proper honor is not accorded
It has got no meaning if sentiments are allowed to run high
It may damage national honor if flag is not allowed to fly

The world sport can bring nations together in true sense
It is biggest challenge and there is necessity for its presence
World have to adopt peaceful co-existence for survival
Misery, distrust and disasters can’t be greeted on their arrival

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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