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When I did sports cartoons, I used to uh, go to fights.

quote by Rube Goldberg
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University Of Central Florida Volleyball

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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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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Twin State

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Just For Fun

Cartoons
Just for fun
Just sitting around doing nothing
Having no worries, no responsibilities
No school
Just cartoons
And sugar cereal
Just cartoons
And more sugar cereal with extra sugar on it
Just cartoons
And more sugar cereal with extra sugar on it
It is fun to be a kid when you can be a kid
And when no one is watching, you put even four sugars on your sugar cereal
Or you just scoop up a few spoons of sugar into your mouth and love the way it melts in your mouth, just for fun
And when no one is watching you jump on the couch and the bed and you run through the house and you knock things over and you don’t pick them up because you are kid and you are just having fun
And you laugh and you giggle and you dance funny dances
You watch more cartoons
Eat more sugar cereal and dig through the box for the toy
And take more spoons of sugar
While watching cartoons
Just for fun.

poem by Connie Webb
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Allegany Camp

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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The Soldier Fights

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the soldier fights for buisness mans rights to make money
the soldier fights for the policemans rights to arrest that soldier
the soldier fights for school kids right to know about past soldiers
the soldier fights to so that you may all sleep at night
the soldier fights for religion so that you may all belive what you wish
And yet the soldier fights on
the soldier fights for his flag, for his country, for his life

poem by Katie
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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
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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 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,

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poem by Oliver Goldsmith
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Sobre Horizontes

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Warrior

Wasnt there a time
When no one lived in pain
Zero down to zero
But a warrior
The innocence of birth
The power of the earth
Out of all thats good
Comes a warrior
Time - is it you who changes minds
Suing us - for something weve not done
Stealing the heroes - all the guiding lights, to find the way
Justice has been gone
To pieces for so long
Some killers call themselves
A warrior
Warriors with no pride
Committing suicide
The picture of a man
Thats your warrior
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
Think about the time
Where manhood promised pride
And history was made
Just by warriors
We have to face the world
And hope that someones heard
Who could replace a man
Like the warrior
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
Time - is it you who changes minds
Suing us - for something weve not done
Stealing the heroes - all the guiding lights, to find the way
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
cause hes a warrior
Yes, hes a warrior
He fights for peace and freedom
cause hes a warrior..........

song performed by U. D. O.
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Keep The Fights

Self enslaved!
Soul devoid!
Break the Bonds
Keep the Fights.
Till the Heart feels rejoice
And the Self gives you voice.
Though the Tide is tough
To swim aside
Sink not, loose not
Keep the Fights.
Emmemce Dark is broad and wide
There is no hope of a Light
Though feel fighting a lossing battle
Keep the Fights
Do keep the Fights.
Brave men are
Those who fight
And fruits can never afright
For the fate favours the Brave
For the death is a wreath to Martyrs.
So dont ever quit the Battle
Keep the Fights
Do keep the Fights.

Vivek Tiwari

Composed on Sep 27 2012

poem by Vivek Tiwari
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He Fights

A soldier is a soldier,
He stands tall before our flag,
He fights for what’s right,
He fights for his people,
He fights for us to be free,
He fights for us to live,
He fights for his family,
He fights for all the things the Red, White, Blue stand for,
He’s a solider 24/7,
To all that see him he’s just another to die fighting,
To us his family most importantly his daughter me,
I see him for how he really is,
He’s my father,
He’s my post when something sad has happened,
He’s my hope,
He’s my shoulder I need to cry on,
He’s my everything.
To everyone ells he’s just another solider how dies for a cause but to me he’s my father that lives his life to the fullest.

I got this idea of this poem from Angela Goodwin, even though it sounds like my dad died he didn’t but he was one of the soldiers how was sent over and came back in one piece and this is meant for him, even though we fight all the time my dad are all the things above and no matter what I say I could never hate him.

poem by Jamie Drake
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Television Is Not Your Friend (Television)

Television is hypnotic and addictive
You become mezmorized and hypnotized
Your TV manufactured from pixels of
Red, green and blue
It flickers high rates of speed
You're bombarded with
Fast moving electrons
It siezes your brain away from you
These subliminal waves seal your eyes
Transmitting cerebellum broadcasts
That decieve
you get an epilectic-type reaction
This high rate of TV flashes
Effects the mind
You become reposed
And there's less brain activity
You're not wrecked by visible rays
But invisible radiation
'It's the best control mechanism
You can think of '
Quoted of why television
Is furnished in a prison
Your intellect responds to what the screen displays
You'r not alive, you are dead
You fail to keep in touch with your body
You intellect eventually will play
It's never percieved at an ordinary plane of awareness
Therefore, the viewer assume truth is in the television
It's initiated in your childhood
parents seat the child in front of this evilness
Exploiting their minds in their early existence
Tuned into the cartoons
Cartoons becomes their reality
Some of the cartoons brings forth violence
Characters recieve wallops upon their flesh
A breif time following they seem to be intact
Soon after, on the playground, it's acted out
Parents pondering where it's attained from
Kids confused why it won't function on themselves
These kids seated staring entranced upon the couch
Violence, sex, hatred, fear and clichés
It's what they respire me to speculate about
With my feeble mind viewing excessively
Upon the tube
Cemented upon this TV continuously
Wasting my life
This is what they desire to regulate me
Once caught, all things that isn't I concieve as true
Poison disperse from this TV set
Emits into my veins

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poem by R.K. Cowles
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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.

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poem by David Keig
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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

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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Soboba

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Technophobia

What has technology done for me?
Well, for one—
It's made me unnecessarily happy,
But I'm very grateful for it.
I mean, my whole life has followed me on the computer,
Transposed to a screen—
The human condition to me, my experience,
Resides more inside a TV than the world
Outside
My window.

When I was a little kid,
I never played any sports and I never had any interest in them
Until I played Madden 2007
With a few of my friends.
I was already an adult at this point,
But, for a moment,
I returned to that feeling,
That kind of feeling that makes me nostalgic now,
And I enjoyed myself,
Learning something new for the first time.
I think it had such an impact on me because
I didn't go outside much when I was younger.
I probably had a vitamin D deficiency.
But what could I do?
After I was twelve or something,
All the kids were playing Pokemon,
Trading the cards under the table
Sort of like the way that pizza place
I once worked for
Traded illegal Mexican cooks
(no racial offense, of course—
Those were the good people
At the job) .
Like a junkie, I couldn't help, but engage in the same elicit activities.
I couldn't help being hooked, even after half my friends stopped
Caring about what holofoils they could collect at the comic book store.
Man, those kids never even played the game though.
I played.
I loved it.
I mean, I played the card game and the video game.

I was raised on video games, after all.
Super Mario was like a second father to me.
I beat SMB1 when I was three years old.
Three years old, I tell you.
Before kindergarten,
My biggest concern was
Pursuing the highest score
Available to my abilities—

[...] Read more

poem by Tim Stensloff
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Jim McKay

MUCH MORE THAN SPORTS
James Kenneth McManus
September 24,1921 – June 7,2008

We heard the, 'thrill of victory,
and the agony of defeat'
We all knew when he said it
That, we’d be in for a treat.

Through the, 'Wide World Of Sports'
He showed us places, never seen
From the North Pole to the South
And all of those, in between.

He spent years spanning the Globe
And brought us news and sports
And from the Olympics in Munich
He gave us all, those sad reports.

His passion was the sport of kings
Founder of the, 'Maryland Million Day'
His love of horses and their races
Lasting, until his final day.

A legend in the sports industry
But, he left us so much more
Showed, it’s how you play the game
It’s not how much, you score.

This World will be a lesser place
Without his great charm and wit
Yes, he surely will be missed
Much more, than just a little bit.

Del 'Abe' Jones
06.08.2008

'Mankind’s greatest accomplishment is not the revolution of technology it is the evolution of creativity ' copyright Del 'Abe' Jones 1984

poem by Abe Jones
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