Just Ballin'

I was flipping through my notebook, during a break today.  I hadn't looked it over in quite some time.  I found some poetry that I wrote with my students during Saturday Writing Camp at a campus nearby.  I hadn't done anything with it.  I read it to the young writers and got some feedback using Pointing with the small group.  So I am now putting it out there as a draft.  When you say draft, it seems to make it okay to write.  Everything is a draft in some form or fashion, when you think about it. This was inspired by a book of poetry about basketball. So here goes:

Just Ballin'

Just ballin'

Rollin' down the street

Just ballin'

My dribbling is so sweet

Just raising up

J so complete

Through the net

Swish!

String music

to my ears!

Just ballin'

Cylindrical peach

at my side

Shots fallin'

everywhere

I reside

With those

sweet tunes

Straight up

ballin'

Just ballin'

No, you can't

Just ballin'

Guard me!

Na huh!

Just ballin'

Shooting my threes

Straight up

I am a

Sharp shooter

Sniper, if you will

Can't you see?

Money!

My game is-

Sick

Stupid

Crazy

Me!

Frenzied

N the zone

Just ballin'

Raining down

All day long

'til night falls

Mid range

Not so strange

Shot callin'

Everything's just  fallin'

effortlessly

Me?

Ballin', Ballin', Ballin'

Ballin'

dribbling

behind my back

crossover so sick

make ya

fall on those bricks

ankles breaking

shot faking

you in the air

while I take it

to the rack

posterized

none the wise-

er

What did you say?

Just ballin'

Swish!

Hear that sound?

Electric

as I pound

the pavement

Raise up-

again

Just me, myself

and I

I heard you sigh

Give it up!

'cause there's nothing

you can do-

Just ballin'

ballin' out!