“To me, the most confusing part about golf is that I don’t know whether I’d rather actually be playing golf, or sitting on the green composing haikus about the landscaping.” —Jarod Kintz
Every course is unique and offers a different challenge. Each a picturesque landscape of rolling fairways, water features, and neatly manicured greens. It is sport enveloped by nature.
A visual feast for photographers.
Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is a poem from Prasanta we enjoyed:
White bell-shaped blooms bend slightly
Paying homage to depths beneath
Crisp grass forged upward
Through a deep darkness
By a cataclysmic split
Of a tiny seed
The ground brims
With tiny creatures wiggling
rummaging about the vastness
of open space, displaced momentarily
by bursting stalks
The ground beneath burgeoning,
Hopeful seeds trembling,
splitting sides,
seeping upward,
awaiting their glorious day–
and did you catch it, before it died?
Before it was chipped away,
Before it faded?
And life is like this,
This wait, this wait of spring
This waiting for bloom
This glancing at the cusp
Of something glorious
This waiting of–
All around me, the ground is plucked
And picked and upturned and raked
Struggling to shake off
the shreds of winter
And I have been waiting that long
For the land of dripping green.
PHOTO PLAY: Take a golfer’s eye view of grass, the same manner in which they “read” a green. Shoot your photograph low, maybe placing a golf ball or tee in the foreground to add interest. If you want to take photos on a local golf course, be sure to seek permission first. A public driving range is a good place to photograph a line of golfers practicing their swing. You can even visit a miniature golf course and snap a few lighthearted shots of the dreaded windmill hole.
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NOTE TO POETS: Looking for your Monday poetry prompt? On Photo Play weeks, it’s right here. Find inspiration from the photo in the post and respond with a poem. Leave your poem in the comment box. We’ll be reading. 
Photo by Nany B. Agyei. Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Heather Eure.
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Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!
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Sandra Heska King says
I’ve never been on a golf course. I’d probably be like Jarod until I got bonked in the head with a stray ball.
Prasanta, I love this: “Life is like this… This waiting of.” Well, I really love the whole thing.
Fore!
Flopped on the fairway,
with wonder teed and hope holed,
I saw stars. Not fair.
Bethany R. says
“with wonder teed and hope holed” -So fun, Sandra 🙂
Prasanta says
Thank you for the wonderful surprise of featuring my poem here today! And thank you for the very kind words, Sandra! Since I’m not a golfer, either, I decided to focus more on the beautiful “greens” than the golf. 🙂
Dave Malone says
Course
Nature is not the most difficult
though hairy dog legs
yield phantom rough
and then looms April rain.
But worse is the knock of silence
on an interminable par five,
haunting six hundred yards
in barnyard dark. The dusky fairway
rises and smells like fear
you’ve always known.
And then the time is only now.
Pushing hands through hips,
a declaration
and hope that if not far,
the shot is clean.
L. L. Barkat says
oooo, love 🙂
Dave Malone says
Thanks! Easily inspired by Prasanta’s poem and the great photo. 🙂
Prasanta says
Love your poem, Dave Malone. And your comment made my day brighter- thank you!
Dave Malone says
Thank you. And you are welcome, indeed. For “life is like this, /
This wait, this wait of spring.”
🙂
Bethany Rohde says
Is it your body that’s blocking the light?
Across this lawn, a blacktop of shadow
is cast between us. It asks to be travelled
You cannot do it, you’re rooted–
I will.
My footfalls plod, plod this acre,
–This darkness you did not intend,
until we share each other’s air
again
How can you, Oak Tree of seventy,
be both a shadow-source and a beacon?
I continue on and you don’t stop me
But through leaf-fingers, I hear whispers
(now growing fainter)
Sh- sh- shh
Richard Maxson says
This is so very touching, Bethany! It is beautiful when a poem escapes its words.
Bethany R. says
You found it touching, Richard? That means a lot to me. Thanks for letting me know.
Richard Maxson says
I know nothing about golf. This was inspired by L.L. Barkat’s line last week, “I never learned the words”
That golf had it’s own language, I was also unaware before now. So this is a sort of jealous poem stack. Or as I chose to name it:
Golferwocky
(a, sort of, jealous poem stack)
Chunk a fat shot?
Better to waggle so
you don’t whiff
at the tee box.
It’s not Road Hole!
Prolonged pre-shot routines
and plumb-bobs, as if
it were Andrew’s linksland.
Mind your tiers! Say it!
No ideas but in swings.
‘Tis twichies and the yips
will shank your sole.
Untimely sky will trap
a fried egg every time.
Go for the bump and run.
Keep your grooves clean.
Fluffy lies, fluffy lies,
only fluffy lies.
You had me at Road Hole,
you had me at Road Hole!
Let us go then, you and I…
Are you listening now,
are you listening?
I’ve got one word for you—balata!
***
Glossary:
Balata: A rubber-like substance used as a cover material for golf balls to increase spin.
(also see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSxihhBzCjk )
Bump and Run: A pitch shot around the green in which the player hits the ball into a slope to deaden its speed before settling on the green and rolling towards the hole.
Chunk: A poor shot caused by hitting the turf well behind the ball.
Fat Shot: A description of a shot when the clubhead strikes the turf behind the ball.
Fluffy Lie: A lie in which the ball rests atop the longish grass.
Fried Egg: The slang term for a buried lie in the sand.
Groove (equipment): The horizontal scoring lines on the face of the club that help impart spin on the ball.
Groove: A description of a swing that consistently follows the same path, time after time.
Links: The term for a course built on linksland, which is land reclaimed from the ocean.
Plumb-bob: A method many players use to help them determine the amount a putt will break.
Pre-Shot Routine: The actions a player takes from the time he selects a club until he begins the swing.
Road Hole: The 17th hole at the Old Course at St. Andrews, one of the most difficult holes in the world.
(also see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AyrP-pwDayE )
Shank: When the ball is struck on the hosel of the club, usually sending it shooting off to the right.
Sky: A high, short shot caused by the clubhead striking the underside of the ball. Also called a “pop-up.”
Sole: The bottom of a club.
Tee Box: The area where players tee to start a hole.
Tier: A rise or level in a green or tee.
Waggle: A motion or several motions designed to keep a player relaxed.
Whiff: A complete miss. Also known as an “air ball.”
Yips: A condition, generally believed to be psychological, which causes a player to lose control of his hands and club. In Great Britain, the condition is referred to as the “Twitchies.”
Bethany R. says
So many great lines here:
“It’s not Rode Hole!”
“Untimely sky will trap
a fried egg every time.”
“No ideas but in swings.”
I don’t know a thing about golf, but I was intrigued throughout your poem.
Thank you for sharing this with us, Richard. 🙂