Yo-etry

I felt the need for some groovy yoyo poems, which will be dubbed “Yo-etry”. Not sure if someone has done this yet, and please feel free to add some of your own.

Wresting in my palm
about to throw, not “play”
It seems to fit just right
Like a glass slipper
Except this one comes back right away

Playing the same brown cotton string for years
My dad’s No Jive is a giant
in my 8 year old hands
I throw it like he taught me
followed by a bonk on my 8 year old noggin

There was a poem posted on the other forum a long time ago that I really liked. Off the top of my head it’s

To hear nothing but bearings,
To feel nothing but strings,
To feel so much like hell,
But be spinning so close to heaven,
That is the yoyoers high,
And is the feeling that I live for.

Think that was it.

woah, that’s really cool. I’ve heard of runner’s high, and I can totally understand yoyoer’s high a little more. (let’s not let this get off topic about the chemical reactions in the cranium and what-not that make “runners high”). Let’s see some more poems! I’ll try and think of some more.

There was a yo-yoer from Nantucket
Who couldn’t land Drop in the Bucket
'though he practiced long nights
the yo always twisted in flight
So at long last he just said…

Never mind, this just isn’t headed in a decent direction.

(Geez, does this Banjo guy have to ruin EVERY thread on here?)

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that is amazing. Beat’s both of my poems =D

This is a poem thread. Had to be moved. :stuck_out_tongue:

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There one was a boy who had CAD
he thought his designs were rad
the weight was too high
the gap was too thin
so we kissed his design good by

(this is about no one I know of)

No hard feelings here! I thought since it was yoyo related it should be in general yoyo, but it’s totally fine with me if it’s in unrelated.

no…of course not… ::slight_smile:

The Giving Throw
Once, there was a yoyo…
And she loved a little boy.
And every day the boy would come
And he would do loops the loops
And make eiffel towers
He would rock the baby
And when he was tired, the boy would make the yoyo sleep
And the boy loved the yoyo… very much…
And the yoyo was happy.
But time went by,
And the boy grew older.
And the yoyo was often alone.

Then, one day, the boy came to the yoyo and the yoyo said:
–”Come, Boy, come and loop the loop and rock the baby and be happy!”
–”I am too advanced of a thrower to loop the loop and rock the baby!!” said the boy. “I want to buy CLYW’s new throw and have fun. I want some money. Can you give me some money?”
–”I’m sorry”, said the yoyo,”but I have no money. I have a rare denim friction pads. Take my friction pads, Boy, and sell them on the BST. Then you will have money and you’ll be happy.”
And so the boy opened up the yoyo and gathered her friction pads and carried them away.
And the yoyo was happy…
But the boy stayed away for a long time… and the yoyo was sad.
And then one day the boy came back, and the yoyo shook with joy, and she said:"Come boy!–””
–”I am too busy to throw yoyos,” said the boy. “I want a house to keep me warm”, he said. “I and want a wife and I want children, and so I need a house. Can you give me a house?”
–”I have no house”, said the yoyo. “This dusty yoyo pouch is my house”, said the yoyo. “But you may sell me, as I have gotten to be rare, and use the money to build a house. Then you will be happy”.
And so the boy sold her as “mint” for tons of money.
And the yoyo was happy.
But not really.

But the boy stayed away for a long time… until he saw her again on ebay
And when he came back, the yoyo was so happy she could hardly speak.
–”Come, Boy” she whispered, “Come and play”.
They looped the loop, went around the world and trapezed and rocked the baby.

And the yoyo was happy.

THE END

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You know what, that was quite a story you told there. I liked it. There is a lot of the circle of our lives running through that work. Thanks!

Thanks! It’s my rendition of “The Giving Tree”, by Shel Silverstien.

That was… beautiful! :')

…SSsssss…

haha thanks! We all have a throw that we will never sell, or at least we all should have one.

Yes, I know what you mean. I have more than just one. My mother took my very first yo-yo away from me when I was a kid as a punishment and I never saw it again. I don’t know what I’d give if I could have that old wooden Duncan Imperial back. I still miss it.

Mine is my dad’s no jive that I wrote that poem at the top of the thread about. It’s still one of my favorite throws.

One day Tommy landed Skin the Gerbil.
He was so happy, he was fulfilled.
He went and showed his mommy, the epic trick he did.
His mommy said she loved it, and hugged her sweet little kid.
Tommy showed all of his friends,
and they loved it 'till the end.

I can see I’m going to enjoy this thread a lot more than I initially thought when Hippo Samurai introduced the idea. And look, there’s Calvin playing with a yoyo! Cool Beans!

Haha, I made up that Poem on the spot. :stuck_out_tongue: Oh, yeah, you like it?

That was pretty good =D

But yeah, I was kind of reluctant about making this thread, because I didn’t know how much the poems would be appreciated. I’m glad that people have opened up and thought up some good poems. Keep em’ coming.