Ronaldo really does go down easily

With skills that freeze defenders and a pace like that of a jaguar, he's sure to be a "nuisance". All this briliance carried out in a flash; in a blink he's gone. If you can't catch up with him, make sure he doesn't pass you- very few ever catch him anyway. Rule is: you take the ball to halt an onslaught, But if it moves so swiftly one sweats to get the ball. It's almost impossible as opponents often feel dizzy as they looked not at the ball but the juggler. If a defender goes for the ball it will be pushed between his legs and he'll be shown a clean pair of CR7 heels, and he'll be left drowning in the deepest pool of shame- especially if Ron scores. Defenders, more often than always, opt for the alternative.Let him do the samba and when he's done twisting and turning bring him down.

A player that can handle Ronaldo is yet to be born, or maybe invented. His trickery's above human intelligence. Only Scara Ngobese and Ricardo Quaresma come close. Unlike the two, Ron's invincible- it's a well known fact! I love Ronaldo- I love him more everyday.

All his brilliance thins away to nothing when he comes face-to-face with his match; the only defender who can stop him0- Ronaldo. He's his no one foe! He' untouchable he knows so he takes the duty of defenders upon himself and brings himself down. The next thing is wailing obviously because he hasn't been awarded a penalty or a free kick.

Defenders used to fooul him, but not anymore. One would wonder why this is so- it's because he's nowhere to be found he's already brought himself down. His goal tally for the 07/08 season would be around 80 had he not been a part-time defender. Defenders no longer get booked because he does their job for them. Can't you hold your fall until they tackle or push you Ron? Do you have to fly like batman and caress the ground like spiderman does buildings?



It tears my heart to grief when a good run's ended bluntly. He's got the abality to cut through opposition and score- that's if he gets there. I love him too much and battle to hold back my tears when he gets frustrated and starts crying- when his cheeks turn purple. He's too good for any defender, we all know that and so it infuriates me to see him let the useless defenders have the last laugh.



There isn't a thing I would like him to change in his game, all I want is a little patience from Ron, just a little patience. He's made it automatic that when a defender comes close to him he goes down- even without beig touched. His tricks are sufficient to make defenders dizzy and keep the crowd giggling but they also cause headaches for everybody. Defenders fear him, managers cross their fingers that their players are not cautioned, fans are angered as decisions go against him, he cries from frustration and lastly the man in the middle. All referees pray he doesn't get the ball (which is practically impossible) because with every touch of the ball they have to make a decision; one that may affect the outcomes of the game.

My plea to Ron is that he stops diving and then crying when he gets nothing out of it as this makes us all cry babies.

Her Majesty

Like chocolate she's desirable
Her plump chicks make her even more adorable
She's the seed of perfection
Her angelic sight's pleasurable

So they've been told
She's worth more than gold
She's a crEation you can never mould
Not for the universe can she be sold

Her beauty, you can never rob
Neither can you purify this slob
You'll alwayZ find her with a mob
And yet she can't do just one job

Her skin; you'd think she has caramel for a lotion
None's like her In this nation
To pratle with her, you need a potion
Down the road, she struts in slow motion

She's one perfect creature
You'd die just for her picture
To err is not in her nature
Her fLaw's not in the near future

For all eternity I'll be her slave
Her way I'll pave
The quEen I'll save
Even from an irate wave

Unreversable misfortune

Why did you sow my seed
If you never wished to harvest it?
Did you have to water it
If it was never your intent to see it sprout, my seed?
Should've let me wither
I would have fertilized your land

Did you hope that worms would embed themselves in me
Or that a gale would snatch me away?
Should've cajoled a blizzard to wreck me
Not a smidge of my aroma would linger by
I'd be no more

What wrong did I commit
For which I can not be pardoned?
Is it the branch I grow from
That you greatly despise?
Enlighten me of my sins
For all to see- if it pleases you

Purge yourself of a jinx
Trade me, I beg you
Pull out even my last root
And lose me
I shall vanish with all your animosity
You will vanquish all your solemnity

Dawn

You only see a shape,
the structure of what is to be;
like a baby;
one still swimming in mom's belly
Dew caresses my feet
and like a magnet, jumps to my feet
as I, through dew , make my trail
On my back shiver climbs
like a baby; one on mom's back
So fair is your complexion
And glim does your face
like that of your bearer, shy night
The mute splendorous baby of a day
with its soft hands
gently touches my face- as my lover does
Oh! mini baby day
You do not shade the heavy
as through still streets they thin away
Envious sun hunts you away
until behind the hills so high you hide
................................til mom births again

My hey days my hell days with no holidays

A make of dawn;
a breaking of the mirror

The loss of the night;
the benefit of scolding, scowl and scorching

Atrocity and hostility;
my guards against humanity

A step I took - is a jump I should have made
A sprint I made - is a saunter I overdid
Yet reserving of my stupidity is the receiving of more humility

Hear me O! birds of the sky
lend me your wings to fly
Take me O! galloping gale
so I can break free from gaol
Forsake me in the land of safe pasture
that, is sifficient for my bleak future

Life by the fire

Chill! Out here its never too cold
Tho we lack a rag to hold
Around a blaze, our elongated limbs we fold
To asembl we don't need to be told

A chew is too big if I can hold
That, you get if you are bold
We trawl thru det just so we grow old
Baker, have even the crumbs been sold?

We way-lay all year
Suits? you'd never dare
Our chews for the anam are little than they wear
They are too good to care

Wizened, yet fresh is that new breed
Their wounds are so deep, yet they don't bleed
Each day for their lives they had to plead
I warmly land a hand if they are in need

I too work though I lead
More so now that the queen has a seed
It's a perfect error that we did
We need no suits to erase our deed

am'e (I'm air)

am'e, am free
i fly, crawl and squeeze
where i please
once, twice or three

i laugh, cry and scream
to release the build up in me
and leave me who i wanna be
i live in life and dream

am'e i go where i wish
and do what i desire
and the frail i devour
only when am being childish

Pleasure

A punch on heart
Erupting the atomic feeling within me
Pleasure's witnessing Ronaldo score
It cracks my face into a gigantic grin

Pleasure's not the warm and smooth chocolate melting in my mouth
Or the sweet juice of stawberries gliding down my chin
It's witnessing the tsamayas, the sizas, the 360, then Scara slotting a shibobo as he runs past a foe;
And finally landing a banana on the feet of a goal scorer

It's not possessing a billion pairs of stilettos
but seeing Nadal hit a winner
Nothing beats the sight of him vigorously punching the air
his mouth parted wider than that of a lion
Shouting Vamos!! Vaamooooooooooooooooss !!!

Just then Enrique serenades my adrenaline
Butterflies all over me
My senses vanish
I catch them in Utopia

Whatever happened to thee beloved Scara

A nation was never known
to forget its anthem
One so dear to them
and so well known

It's no daily happening
for one to grieve a live soul
to cry and grumble in a hole
knowing not when it shall cease sinking

It's no tradition to drown a hero
It's a new-born a deed
to lock out one in need
And grind him to zero

A nation with no leader
A mob of the blind
The great they leave behind
A wound that knows no healer

what happens to those ironed by the carpet?
Who polishes the seedlings
And sharpens the proceedings
When in the fore stands a puppet?

If ever lived a breath with so black a blood
Then would spring out the cries in me
but air is the day I'll be free
And faints harder a dim grin that used to flood

Switched Off

My heart's napping against the will of my desire. I wish to work but the brain's dry, nourished heart's made up her mind. Both are convinced it's only fair yet enormously royal and wise. If only my stone of a stone heart would give me the pleasure to paint even the faintest of grins on my face as I put down the pen.
The grimmace of the heart bribed even the eyes to retire for the night. I wish not to dreamingly gaze at the sky shadowing but to dream shades for my blank pages. If only I could bank the clock's work, I would in time of need turn to the stored.

My pleasure's been extinguished and my heart plans not to rekindle it and so I lay in wait hoping not morning would find me but that I fish words from my blood before they drown in the night.

I lay and I wait. I wait and I wait and I wake; yesterday's gone.

The Sun

Polar has released her troops
the mediator chronologically shuns away
She lurchs us!

I'm bare, she's bare, he too is
the tune starts
when in the unpresentness of wings
the grinders sound

I know not she before me
So full was never her figure
the twins never slept at day
hands digging the cellars

By the window I stand
watching her faint grin melt
I pursue her weary rays
as the meters between us multiply

Before her very eyes the revolt starts
She's too not near to hear our cries
We sharpen the blades
and pray the fire keeps us

For her we shall long
long will it be before her return
We shall shiver all day long
long is the distance between us now