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im playing basketball (Free verse) by rockinindividual

im playing basketball as the day fades around me and the streetlight begins to glow im choking the anger out of my system playing harder faster my breath comes out in gasps as i dribble around obstacles pounding harder and harder shooting from farther and farther away then my anger boils down to a throbbing annoyance my form is perfected as the ball hits the rim and falls away again and again finally all enemies are forgotten all grudges laid aside im playing basketball as day turns into night shades are drawn and lights turned off as i continue playing i dribble around my legs back and forth shooting my muscles pulled taut as the ball leaves the hands who know it so well my eyes follow its arc watching it fall through the air the net catching it gracefully it hits the ground again and i spring after it only to pass it over my head and into the basket again im playing basketball for myself for that feeling of pure power of pure innocence caring about nothing but the next shot watching nothing but the ball when it leaves my hands feeling nothing but my muscles pulling stretching setting that ball in motion giving it life and then snatching it away again once it hits the pavement im playing basketball long after the sun leaves and the moon comes to watch im playing basketball pushing myself harder and harder going farther and farther until my shots begin to fall short and my steps falter i retreat beneath the covers waiting for sleep to carry away memories of that anger that made me play as the day faded around me.

poetandknowit 27-Dec-02/9:35 PM
He received in the mail a few days ago, as did the other 65,000 subscribers to Poets and Writers Magazine a postcard for the Iowa Writer's Conference. That is what placed the fictitious idea in his head. Just like when he listens to Cake, he conjures he writes the lyrics for them. Just like he says he received a GED in the brig, yet he graduated from a high school in Michigan. Besides, can you get into the armed services without a high school diploma if the draft is not in place? Let's see, he frequently visits the ranch of Val Kilmer in Taos with his made up son to fly paper airplanes and slam at the Poetry Circus there. This is odd, because I did not see or hear of anyone there named Jeremi Handrinos. At least not in the later rounds. See, he is a hard hittin street poet in the nature of Jim Morrison (although The Doors replaced Morrison with The Cult's lead singer for the upcoming tour, which is now on hold, so he failed there). And because of this he is constantly creating, even if it means personas for himself. He is a true genius. And although anyone can get into the conference with a check, conferences are a joke. He is already a far better writer than myself. So please, give him three cheers and a kiss from Tommy Lee, his next-door neighbor.




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