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Best Famous Dodger Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Dodger poems. This is a select list of the best famous Dodger poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Dodger poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of dodger poems.

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Written by Robert Pinsky | Create an image from this poem

The Night Game

 Some of us believe
We would have conceived romantic
Love out of our own passions
With no precedents,
Without songs and poetry--
Or have invented poetry and music
As a comb of cells for the honey.
Shaped by ignorance, A succession of new worlds, Congruities improvised by Immigrants or children.
I once thought most people were Italian, Jewish or Colored.
To be white and called Something like Ed Ford Seemed aristocratic, A rare distinction.
Possibly I believed only gentiles And blonds could be left-handed.
Already famous After one year in the majors, Whitey Ford was drafted by the Army To play ball in the flannels Of the Signal Corps, stationed In Long Branch, New Jersey.
A night game, the silver potion Of the lights, his pink skin Shining like a burn.
Never a player I liked or hated: a Yankee, A mere success.
But white the chalked-off lines In the grass, white and green The immaculate uniform, And white the unpigmented Halo of his hair When he shifted his cap: So ordinary and distinct, So close up, that I felt As if I could have made him up, Imagined him as I imagined The ball, a scintilla High in the black backdrop Of the sky.
Tight red stitches.
Rawlings.
The bleached Horsehide white: the color Of nothing.
Color of the past And of the future, of the movie screen At rest and of blank paper.
"I could have.
" The mind.
The black Backdrop, the white Fly picked out by the towering Lights.
A few years later On a blanket in the grass By the same river A girl and I came into Being together To the faint muttering Of unthinkable Troubadours and radios.
The emerald Theater, the night.
Another time, I devised a left-hander Even more gifted Than Whitey Ford: A Dodger.
People were amazed by him.
Once, when he was young, He refused to pitch on Yom Kippur.


Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Old Codger

 Of garden truck he made his fare,
 As his bright eyes bore witness;
Health was his habit and his care,
 His hobby human fitness.
He sang the praise of open sky, The gladth of Nature's giving; And when at last he came to die It was of too long living.
He held aloof from hate and strife, Drank peace in dreamful doses; He never voted in his life, Loved children, dogs and roses.
Let tyrants romp in gory glee, And revolutions roister, He passed his days as peacefully As friar in a cloister.
So fellow sinners, should you choose Of doom to be a dodger, At eighty be a bland recluse Like this serene old codger, Who turned his back on fear and fret, And died nigh eighty-seven .
.
.
His name was--Robert Service: let Us hope he went to Heaven
Written by Robert William Service | Create an image from this poem

Portrait

 Painter, would you make my picture?
Just forget the moral stricture.
Let me sit With my belly to the table, Swilling all the wine I'm able, Pip a-lit; Not a stiff and stuffy croaker In a frock coat and a choker Let me be; But a rollicking old fellow With a visage ripe and mellow As you see.
Just a twinkle-eyed old codger, And of death as artful dodger, Such I am; I defy the Doc's advising And I don't for sermonising Care a damn.
Though Bill Shakespeare had in his dome Both - I'd rather wit than wisdom For my choice; In the glug glug of the bottle, As I tip it down my throttle, I rejoice.
Paint me neither sour not soulful, For I would not have folks doleful When I go; So if to my shade you're quaffing I would rather see you laughing, As you know.
In Life's Great Experiment I'll have heaps of merriment E're I pass; And though devil beckons me, And I've many a speck on me, Maybe some will recon me - Worth a glass.