(Verse 1)

I’m the goal that you think you’re gonna score

A little bit of teasing got ya pleading for more (Yeah Yeah)

If you end up a loser no need to be sore (No No Nooo)


Givin’ up on trying to get me to stay

Like it was gonna happen anyway

You’ve run out of dumb lines to say

Well save em’ for a rainy day


I’m the judge and you’re the case

What you’re true intentions are it’s time to investigate

You wanna play hardball then step up to the plate

Cause we both know you’re just trying to get to third base



Tryna go camping in my spot

With that tent in your shorts

Tryna get your ball in my court

Well you must love games

Cause you tryna play sports

Somebody call the referee

Cause I gotta and I wanna (Wanna) hear that whistle blow

You really think you can handle me

Well we'll just have to wait and see


(Verse 2)

You wanna touchdown so baby go long

Now come on and show me what you got (Got)

It's a foul if you hit it wrong

Can ya get it can ya get it up (Up)

Like a jockey yeah giddy up (Aye!)


Like tennis

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Warning: Young poets read at your own risk. A raunchy about how men and women (but mostly guys I think use sports euphemisms when referr to or talking about sex or sexual encounters.


Owed to the Bee

A Kid from the 70s with knuckles that bled, 

from beating the bag instead of your head.

Shadows were friends and foes to defeat.

Running, trash talking, feet pounding the street.

Despite all the lonely, the hardwork and grief, 

It's honest to say I feel Like the Thief. 

The times that I claimed "The Greatest ever to be"

trying to float like a butterfly and sting like Ali. 

View wildboarkiller's Full Portfolio

Heavy Beast O' Burden

Through these two threadbare, knuckle-beaten gaps,

blood is called for and received by the hide

of a quadriplegic beast I have trapped

and strung up firm at about shoulder's height.

Its sway, attuned to leisure and to force,

is rhythmically accompanied by

a rattle - like the chewing of a horse;

one with metal teeth and black, vacant eyes.

Its purpose is assured with each thrown fist.


View sivus's Full Portfolio