“Hymn To Football”

Glory to the football field,
the plain of grass
the bold white numbers
matching the field
Glory to the goal post,
to the goal line,
to the big Panther head
in the center field.

Glory to the eleven navy blue jerseys
warned by eleven,
to the football players
to the uniforms,
their helmets,
their gloves and cleats
their lips puffed out from mouth gaurds
Glory to the football team.

Glory to the victories,
the proud moments,
the cheerfulness of our souls
Glory to the losses
they bring eleven brothers together.
to the strong bond of a growing family.

Glory to the heat,
to the sweat and pain,
to the cool breezes,
to the exhausting day that leave you dog-tired.
Glory to the waterboys,
to the bottles they fill and serve,
to the towels they bring to wipe away the pain.

Glory to the trees and animals,
to the homes the animals had to leave,
to the leaves and branches nevermore
to the loss of oxygen from the trees
the animals that they protected
to the sacrifices made for the football field.

By: Montero B.

“Glory to the Magical Places”

Glory to magical places of unbelievable places
the freedom that takes you away when feeling troubled
amazed with amusement and excitement
Glory to the beautiful smiles that awaken upon many
broad faces.

Glory to many imaginary beliefs
by young, curious spirits looking for mind-blowing thrills
Looking for different way to discover their
wonderful skills
Glory to young children everyday.

Glory to the invisible tastes from famous cooks
sweet pies, crunchy feel of the well-marinated
chicken moving through my mouth like track stars.

Amusement parks filled
with enjoyment of carousels,
farriswheels, laughter, excitement
sounds of hearts beating through loved ones
chest expressing their love no other

Give Glory to everyone
that waits everyday
at this special time
to get through all
their troubles
stress,
worries,
unhappiness
There is no other place
in particular like….
—-Dreams– a magical, exciting world

By: Kalliah R.

“Glory to the Shopping Universe”

Glory to the shopping universe
Where all people come to fight
Like Black Friday sales
and sometimes even at night.

Glory to the racks and hangers
to clothes
to shoes,
and make-up too,
Two paire just might not do.

Glory to the candy stores
where children scream, fuss, fight, and kick
Just to get some mouth watering
stawberry licorice.

Glory to the laughter
that grows so loud
it fills the aire
like busy bees in spring time.

Give all the glory to the employees
who work so hard
to satify everyone around them
before themselves.

by: Kanesha M.

“Glory to The Chapel”

Glory to the Chapel, where we all pray
blessings flow from person to person
Hallelujah’s all around
Glory to the pulpit, where the pastors sit.
They speak words of blessings
blessings pouring down.

Glory to the congregation cheering
patting their feet
clapping their hands
the new Bibles and old fans.

Glory to the Ushers
Taking up the tithes
Calming to all who catch the Holy Spirit
As they greet you at the door.

Glory to the Choir
singing songs of praise
Rocking from side to side
with a steady beat

Give all the glory to the holy place
the place where we should all rejoice.
We should give all praises in His name
Never let the Spirit get away
Take part in it
Be glad that you are where you are
Church.

By: Bionica R

“Hymn of Meme’s House”

Glory to Meme’s house,
for all the fun and crazy things we do there.
The pranks, the goofiness.
Glory to the love we give eachother.
The hugs, the tough love.

Glory to the southern noise,
the small comments we make,
suck it up,
cheer practice today
the mall tomorrow
All is well in love and shopping.

Glory to the amazing food At Papito’s
were we go all the time.
the sizzling, spicy food
Glory to the new creations we make by being goofy,
the tasty chocolate pretzels.

Glory to the sounds,
the sirens of police,
the honking of horns,
the low hum of birds in the morning,
Glory to the barking of Rowdy
he always wakes you up
the knocking on the door from a late night out.

The day to leave is always the worst,
good-bye great food, no chores,
good-bye great people, noisy streets,
so long Meme trust that I’ll be back.
Because I said it before and I’ll say it again
Nothing is better than Meme’s house.

By: Carley C.

“Hymn of My Home”

Glory be to my home,
the greatest home ever
the memory bank
relieved every day til my death.
Glory to family,
to friends,
to neighbors who help.

Glory to parents
who help you,
comfort you,
understand you,
love you.
Glory to brothers,
the kind brothers,
the mad brothers,
the closest friends ever.

Glory to parents
who cook their specialties,
the fish, the turkey,
meat loaf, and desserts,
Glory to desserts.

Glory to the heat
and blood and sweat that drives us,
to cold that chills us,
to warmth which warms us
Glory to colds
runny noses.
Sunburns and childhoods spent in all seasons.

Give all the glory to your birthplace,
the home where the heart is,
the amazing experiences,
the way you get when your home is here,
the place where memories are kept
forever.
My home.

By: Brian Burrough

“Hymn of Walmart”

Glory to the superstore
the expanding
built upon companies
The parking lot of variety of cars
Glory to the electronics ilse
exciting innovations
ever-extending mans reach.

Glory to the greeters,
a canvas of tattoos
a lit ciggarette,
against regulations
Glory to cashiers,
pursed lips,
patience belittled,
on their last nerve.

Glory to frozen foods
to pizza,
to ice cream,
to hot pockets,
Glory to food.

Glory to inconveinence,
to greed,
to Black Friday massacres,
to early Christmas,
glory to the hassle.

All glory be to this buy item metropolism
the movies
the games
the angry staff
the prices
the high-teck bathrooms
(god forbid) the toys,
the food—

Glory Be to Walmart

By: Isiah Pugh

“Glory to Holly Bluff”

Glory to Holly Bluff,
the wide opening of the flat lands
sharecroppers and farmers
harvested in the summer
picked in the fall
Glory to the corn grown so high
low cotton
to the dirt road and wide land.

Glory to granny ma,
growing old
saving food in the kitchen
cleaning house
washing clothes
taking care of others
going to church every Sunday
preparing Sunday dinner
sitting out in the cool sun
spending time with siblings.

Glory to memories
that keeps the mind wondering
smiles turned upside down,
frowns of worriedness
Glory to people
describing of others
judging deliberately

Glory to sizzlin’ heat
to cold glasses of ice water
wet towels on the forehead
laid to soothe and cool
Glory to blackness
burned skin
old folks in rocking chairs, under AC

Give glory to the misty town,
the hot boiling roads
dead flower, brown grass
dirt road riders
the bored feeling of being there
old people being lazy
when you say it out loud

Holly Bluff

By: Carla Edwards

“Glory to Yazoo City”

Glory to Yazoo City
the raging fights in open streets
the police
try to stop them
before it is to late

Glory to the trees
grown tall
to high leaves
to the ground that is covered
with green

Glory to children
playing outside the house
by grandaddies house
their throwing and running
causing commotion
and their parents get
mad when you say
Get off my grass.

Glory to the elders,
the nice-elders
the mean-elders
the church-goers
the story-tellers,
the passer on of all things

What’s good nigha
get over here and get on yo knees,
mane you better ride out with that.

Glory to cooks
who learned from their mothers
the beignets, the boudin,
pizza, hot winds, coka cola,
the breadsticks with marinara sauce.

Glory to shame
the robbing and stealing
and breaking and stealing
what a shame how they play their games.
Glory to tornadoes
to stories and lives,
and hungry eyes
to floods and trees
taking lives.

With hearts racing to the
beats, give disgrace and dishonor
most low prasise
to rap
to the tap played in cars
to rap heard from the tub, from rooms,
ten-year-old alarms

Glory be to the blues
from a southern woman’s heart.

Glory to the cold,
freezing in the breezes
to cold night with aire you
can feel

Glory to the heater,
to keep us ward
childhoods under covers, under
heaters

Give all the glory to the
littleset places
the messiest children
the stolen cars
the way the fights end up
the lovers cheating on eachother
you you say it outloud.

Yazoo City

By : Decora Brown

“Glory To The Cage”

Glory to the cage,
where people come to train,
through tears and blood
they overcome
all obstacles ahead
Punching bags and equipment,
around every corner
just waiting to be used

Glory to the fanatics
the non-stoppers,
the people who put their heart in this,
the crazed fight loves,
the ones who won’t give up,
the ones
who never tapout.
The fans,
who puts faith in us,
the ones who want to watch
they are fighters themselves.

Glory to the injuries,
the suspensions,
and medics ring-side.
To knockouts,
tendons pulled,
families hurt,
and careers ended.

Glory to the cheers,
the hype of the crowd,
the sound of the treadmills,
the piercing of the whistle
the yelling of the trainer
the screaming of an injury

Glory to the fit,
the handwraps,
the gloves,
the weights,
adn benches.
We love
The Cage.

By: Matt Cooper