Women's golf humor > Golf Poetry

Golf Poetry

“Toe to Heel”

Toe to heel, I shift my weight

I breathe and hold and sink…

One glance and one back

All my world is silent but for

Tee and me and thee.

Tee and me and thee…


“Ode to the Golf Umbrella”

Oh, shelter me, your many stripes and size and strength and kind

I am and always will be to thee a servant just behind

Or under

Rather

Under you

I’ll hold your steadfast hand

And when we pace along the green

In triumph we will land

Oh, golf umbrella

You’re more to me than any cart or tee

You are my open and my closed

You are the game to me

“On the Green”

‘Twas a day fer turnin’ heads

a day fer screamin’ gulls

a day fer swings and pulls and treads

and punchin’ with the roles.

I wandered out and touched me bag

I placed me tiny tee

And all before and aft meself

Was nuthin’ but the green.

Jus’ nuthin’ but the green.

Currently, even the popular genre of “Slam” poetry is familiar with the game of golf. The following are some examples of the fine work being done in this brave niche of performance poetry.

 

“BALLS!”

Golf! (slap! Slap!)

I (slap!) am (slap!) the game (silence)

Tee and balance and off I go and scream myself dizzy (so dizzy! Slap! Slap!)

As I fly

Like no one flies

And I am silence and wind and overturned by nothing

(Slap, slap, silence slap!)

I (slap! Whoosh, slide, slap! Slap!)

Am! (silence)

The game. (leave golf ball at the microphone to receive applause.)


“Golf Daddy”

Golf Daddy

Daddy.

Where are you Daddy weekends weekends weekends

I

Cry. (howl at the moon for effect.)

As I stand (so silent, so so silent) at the front window

Watching (breath/hiss/breathe)

As you leave with your mistress

Your game

Your child you love who is not me

(Howl, grab hair, howl)

I am lone child left

Lone child

Behind

Your game (hiss and shudder, hiss again)

Your game is you

And I

(howl)

cry for

daddy.

Oh, Golf Daddy,

One weekend (puff air!)

One weekend

And you will return to me on Monday.

Too late (beat fists, tear hair)

Too late

As I am grown

And will never play your game. (Drop head, wait for applause.)

 

 

Writers old and young are finally tackling a subject no less worthy of Verse than love, and loss, and gain. This exciting new poetry will soon be available to you and your loved ones. Perhaps it’s time you picked up a pen and paper. Perhaps it’s time you tried your hand at the Poetry of the Gods. Golf Poetry.

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