Haiti wins hockey world championship … seriously

Fusion

One of the most unlikely national teams in sporting history has just won the championship trophy in one of the most unlikely sports to be dominated by a Caribbean nation.

Haiti’s national street hockey team (yes, that’s a thing) defeated the Cayman Islands 4:2 this morning to win the finals of the B-pool of the Street Hockey World Championship in Zug, Switzerland. The road to the cup also included victories over Armenia and France — a win that was particularly sweet for the Haitian squad.

Haiti’s surprise victory is unlikely for several reasons — not the least of which is the fact that Haitians don’t normally play hockey. To compensate for the island’s general deficiency in puck skills, the team was comprised of Haitian-Canadians…

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Through the Track of Unknowness

I can hear someone crying.
Pretty loud surely,
But, its origin is beyond my sight.
Nor its owner is within my vigil.

Deep and doleful, it is.
Wrapped in a patch of gloom;
It sounds so.
And the tears,
Must be brimmed with utmost depth.

It is a cry, relentless and painful.
Indeed is running across
A path of persistence.
Cannot resist even a thousand tons of boulders.

Engulfed me with its touchy depth.
A cry of enchanting melody, it is.
Its depth, not be found among the natives;
In fact, is non-existent.

Every beat by beat in my heart,
It grows deeper;
And lingering, not to mention.
It now remains neither touchy nor depth full
But, sinister.

‘Please, do stop!’
No answer for required respond.

It caught me in its sadness.
So firm a grip,
I grew helpless teased by emotion.
My patience running down,
Gazing upon for the owner.
My eyes reached the end of their tether.

But, never did the stranger ever made his appearance.
Before my thirsty vigil.

Traumatized and annoyed, I am.
Desperate and vindictive.
Blowing out little sighs of failure,
For the unknown owner.

A spring of black water
Spread upon my withered heart.
It got heavy with anxiety for unknownness.
Very sore, not to mention.

However, I succeeded.
I found its origin.

The cry has its no native owner.
But, creeping through the cracks
In my melancholy heart.

I heard it reach my ears,
When I am wretched with depression.

So, the owner remains no one
But, I and my heart,
Bleak and barren.

Solitary Star

Will You Love Me

Will you still be loving me
when my hair is silvergray,
when my memory, unfortunately,
so slowly fades away?

Will you still be loving me
when my teeth are gone for good,
when no longer I am capable
of pleasing like I could?

Will you still be loving me
when my chest can reach my knees,
when all I do is whine about how
you never fill my needs?

Will you still be loving me
when my skin looks like a prune,
when my eyes and ears, my dreams and youth
no longer are in bloom?

Will you still be loving me
when my life has come to end,
will you then be looking back
on precious days we spent?

@Sнσʋтɛvɛnsнʏ

Darkness never terrified me

It is hideous, but not horrendous.
It is bleak, but not barren.
It might be cruel, but never wild.
It is blind, but not despairful.
It is desolate, but not despicable.
It might be bitter, but hardly a dreader.
It might grow sullen, but hardly grows sour.
It can bring you danger, but not doom.
It can take you to unknowingness, but not to lost.
It can show you the way to gloom, but not the way to Hell.
It is something that lies in the horizon between Faith and Terror.
It is a shelter, decent yet agonizing, without windows and a door.
This is what I call darkness.
This is how darkness happens to be.

Across the silence of its humble look,
I’m always there, perched and calm,
In the middle of a heavy wisp
Shrouded by a dark curtain of gloom.

Yet, it is a gloom, neither wild nor desperate,
As darkness wraps me within its warm compassion
By a quilt of fragile love.

Huddled against its damp walls,
I flow along the spring of hope
With solitude, smelling everywhere.
As darkness spreads its elegant wings
Coated with the jewels of gloom,
A cold touch nips me
Just like a feather, settling with a tender touch,
On a delicate arm.

And I feel, ever so safe and overwhelmed.

BY: Solitary Star