While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.
Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel,
And so before it I choose to kneel.
I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.
I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.
I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.
My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2012
Can I Be:
The lyrics in your song?
the words of your poem?
the paint on your canvas?
the script for your movie?
the groove in your dance?
the ink in your pen?
the twinkle in your eye?
the beat of your heart?
the "star"of your dreams
your every desire?
your early sunrise?
your place of comfort?
And most of all
Can I always be the love of your life?
Copyright © Alexis Y. | Year Posted 2016
My grandfather and I had a special relationship.
When I was young we lived near his home in Baltimore. But, my family moved away from
Baltimore when I was five and we lived most of my life in another state far away from my
grandfather. Whenever he called, however, I was the one grandchild he always wanted to
talk to so we could discuss his beloved Baltimore Orioles. I was the one grandchild who
followed sports closely and always remained a true Baltimore sports fan.
Later in life, I learned that my grandfather was actually a gifted baseball player himself when
he was young. In those days, he would explain, professional baseball players did not make
enough money to support a family so he had to make up his mind to either play baseball or
get married and raise a family. As it turned out, his love for baseball was only surpassed by
his love for my grandmother and, although he hung on to the newspaper clippings that
labeled him a “can’t miss professional baseball prospect”, he hung up his cleats and glove,
married my grandmother and went out to find a “real” job.
But his love for the game survived and year in and year out, he and I discussed the
intricacies of the game and enjoyed or lamented each baseball season based on the
successes and/or failures of the Baltimore Orioles. As crummy as the Baltimore bums are
today, I was fortunate enough to experience and share many more successful seasons than
poor ones during those limited years that I shared life with this amazing man.
I always felt sorry for my grandfather, considering him a victim of poor timing. Had he
been born about 50 years later in life, he would not have had to pick between being a
baseball player or earning a living – in fact, with his talent, he could have earned a much
better than average living while enjoying the one thing he loved most in life.
When my grandfather passed away, I was sure that he was joining a heavenly nine to once
again strap on his spikes and don the leather. Without a doubt, they must play baseball in
heaven. And I wait for the day that I sit in the heavenly bleachers and cheer on a young
grandfather playing this wonderful game with other boys of summer.
(Inspired by, “is there baseball in heaven”, by Constance, A Rambling Poet)
Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2010
baseball and poetry love them both
just like writing baseball excites me too
and during the recent months they’ve gain growth
love it as much as writing an haiku
can’t wait next month the season will begin
I'm not like others I never played golf
if I’m lucky I’ll catch a Red Sox win
outside of Fenway was a sign for Gulf
besides Poetry Soup may be else where
such as MLB dot com checking scores
I love baseball because it has some flair
as a kid bought cards from many stores
when summer is here I’ll be watching more
wife and I caught a Red Sox Phillies game
and my wife didn’t find the game a bore
but lately the Red Sox have brought us shame
but the new season will be starting soon
enjoy the games even from the saloon
Copyright © Robert Heemstra | Year Posted 2013
The narrow tunnel, darkened by shadows of denial;
my vessel of hope, adrift on possibilities.
A regretful mist hangs heavy in this melancholy place.
The haunting echo's of could-have-beens stalking close behind,
as I search for a spark of light at every turn.
Unable to turn around this voyage of time,
I will accept the fait that awaits me at the end.
Will you be there?......
Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2015
A subject of sweetest softness
Cats can be loved too
Copyright © Smail Poems | Year Posted 2013
It wasn't because he brought her flowers....
It wasn't because he wined and dined her....
She loved him because he spent hours on the computer
trying to track down the 1970 Brooks Robinson baseball card
for their oldest son's birthday
She loved him because he played with their kids,
even after a hard day at work...
baseball games in the big front yard,
cheering them on...
not getting angry when the youngest son
knocked a homer...
...straight through the living room window
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015
His life had boiled down to this one moment
Nerves shaking but could never show it
A lifetime of practice to get to this fall day
Always saying goodbye & never getting to stay
The half dirt covered plate at his feet
As thousands waiting to leave their seat
Years of not knowing if he could ever get here
He looks up and his mind never this clear
Cheers all around fade away
Today was his day
He has but a single task
The question yet to be asked
His stance he choose to switch
And from a knee here comes the pitch
She said yes
Copyright © Chad Weeks | Year Posted 2013
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2013
This Blue Moon..
This moon is hypnotizing , this moon knows all Truth and lies
it is a rare moon and filled with questions asked
luminous clouds weaving through , knowing all through existence
showing me there is yet true love in the mist
who else has been captured by the Magic that surrounds this Blue Moon tonight ~
pure light and magic that pulls on your soul , instinctively, when called you will go
with all senses enhanced, romancing you
all that you know
it controls the waters at Sea, as though it instructs all sea life
speaking to the dolphins' and lighting the oceans glow
telling the night owl too take flight and hunt ~
showing a white Owl for the first time seen
this moon is speaking , listening to all prayers
there is more around us, more then the finest of wise Men know
Look at this moon tonight
Tell me now what the truth is
This Blue Moon ..it knows.
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
words left unspoken
sealed behind my stubborn lips
love begs expression-
your arms reach out to embrace
my eyes speak the unspoken
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
You are the batter,
Shaking in your cleats,
Scared of what may come,
So scared you may flee.
The pitcher stands there noble,
Strong and steady,
His pitch is fast,
And you are not so ready.
The pitch is down the middle,
Right where you like,
But something comes over you,
Like the darkest of the nights.
And you miss,
Satan got in you,
And gave you a kiss.
You walk back to the dugout,
And begin to weep,
You let your father down,
But then you leap!
You hop right back up,
Your at-bat again,
You get another shot,
This time Satan must not get in!
You pray to God,
Asking for Satan to be gone,
You dig in,
Humming in song.
With a smile on your face,
You watch the pitcher throw,
Right down the middle,
Yet this one was drove!
As far as you could,
The ball flew like out of a gun,
You watch with amazement,
As the pitcher says," That’s my son!"
Copyright © Zackery Harbin | Year Posted 2006
Baseball and beer and a beautiful woman
Baseball and beer
and a beautiful woman
Tonight, such a
Two teams are playing,
while one love we're sharing,
who cares who is up
at the plate
Her team gets a hit
and I can't help but smile,
seeing the look
on her face
The batter starts running,
he hopes for a single
while I begin rounding
Holding her tight,
as we kiss between pitches,
keeping an eye
on the score
I slide into second,
my heart quickly beating
here with the one
"Stree-rike, you're out!"
I can hear the ump yelling,
the shortstop just went
down in three
I pull her in close
all the while I am thinking,
I'm glad he's not
yelling at me
Now to third base,
oh her skin soft and tender,
the infield, the lights
I can see home,
as I lead off a little,
then dart in a sprint
to her love
Crossing home plate
is a magical feeling,
breathless the two
of us cheer
A beautiful woman,
an evening of baseball,
and let's not forget
** Note: The Astros won the game**
For the National Pastime poetry contest
Sponsored by: Phillip Garcia
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017
A page freshly written
Across the face of time.
A new excitement
To thrill and tantalize.
Caresses every moment
With silent words of love.
Expresses the caresses
That I've been dreaming of.
Shines in joyous beauty
Through the sweetness of your soul.
Uplifts and brushes softly
Away the tears of solitude.
Surrounds and protects my heart
From ever losing you.
Brings us closer together
Upon our sacred paths.
To show our way at last.
I will love you,
over and over, unabashed.
I'm grateful for you
And ready to love again.
We'll find each other
And fall in love again.
Copyright © Chula Fleming | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
Rain passes through quenching the thirst of the parched dry lands.
Lightning flashes and thunder crashes as God clinches his hands.
For he has grown wreary of his creations' greed.
Turning his back on the population. Ignoring the cries during their time of need.
He can't stand to watch as we indure his punishment.
Tough love now will save many on the day of judgment.
Copyright © Christina Hons | Year Posted 2015
A New Love Story
I had stopped at the rural cafe for a coffee it was a day when I was
not feeling a day over seventy she was around fifty and incredible
young her waste was that of a waif at the beginning of life.
She was so beautiful and she smiled inviting me to sit by her table
and I was only drinking coffee. I told her amusing stories of my life,
mostly lies- and she laughed, not a bored mirth while looking at
the time thinking of the right moment to slip away the clutches of
my unwanted attention. Good time has me has a limit, so much and
not more, her husband came in he had been to the garage, had the car
fixed and he told me all about it down to the smallest dreary details
A nice man with oil on his hands and I hated him, but I could not kill him
and claims his wife as mine, the thought faintly amused me,
and they drove off. I loved her immensely and she reminded me of
my wife`s niece I love her too, perhaps it was her but I was too old to see
as handsome faces take on a mask of a smiling Janus
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2015
In those eyes you threw
your sudden love,
like a ball thrown hard
at a catcher’s glove.
And I felt it and waited,
wondering how I’d return it
To lob the ball
was all to do.
My arm was poor,
but my throw was true.
You left the mound.
You turned your back.
Had you forgotten
your turn at bat?
No bases run,
No striking out,
No popping flies
or balls that fouled.
An empty diamond.
My hand still stings
from the ball you’d thrown.
February 16, 2017
National Pastime Contest
Copyright © Rita A. Simmonds | Year Posted 2017
A little bit of twist
A little bit of grin
A flip of the hair
I am proud of myself
Pictures on my bookshelf
He and I collide, kiss and a ride
His glove and baseball by the side
Hat up above truly love
I dare not give it a shove
On the stand with a cheer
A taunt and a sneer
Grin your way; ensnare was my plan
Flip my hair and pretend I’m a fan
Batter batter swing
Hammer and sting that skin
A little bit of twist
A little bit of grin
A flip of the hair
Wearing the right hat
Twist to the bat
Searching far and wide
Where’s the cowhide
Home, don’t walk ... R-U-N
One-on-one under the sun
Slide your hand down my arms
Surrender and drown in charm
Strawberry kisses champagne wine
Interlace your fingers with mine
Emotions beat while we run away
Feeling the excitement of the day
Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2017
We All know Better
By Curtis Johnson
Your smiling face will often disguise the rapid and tedious race;
But I know better
Your sweet and pleasant demeanor sometimes displays God’s grace;
But not always, because at times it leaves a revealing trace.
Others may discern or detect things you cannot hide or erase,
Because they too know better
In the language of baseball, it’s good to hit home runs, triples, and doubles.
But we Know better,
Because a good manager will tell you that these endeavors you must not chase
It’s simply because, most times, it’s better for the team if you just get on first base
So if you choose, you can say you are swell and all is well
But I know better
You can pretend things are great and wonderful; but you know better
I know that you must open up and talk about more than the sports and the weather
I know that you must open the windows of your heart to at lease someone you can tell
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015
Invisible scars touched the inner fibers of the soul
Spilling tears that flowed as a rapid river stream
Healing with the love that lies in the heart
Spreading light to humanity as a beacon
November 11, 2016
Copyright © Nayda Ivette Negron | Year Posted 2016
Rushing to nowhere
The dead are lowest on time
Self-condemned to walk empty
Though life works differently
Copyright © Davor Miljkovic | Year Posted 2016
the love the parks
and play hard
they love the swings
its there thing
of that there love brings
is field with a wall
KIDS AND BASE BALL
Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2012
I stand on the plate with the sun in my eyes
the pitcher is ready, a fastball he flies
I swing just as hard as I possibly can
love says "strike one" as I try it again
I choke up on the bat, pull down on my bill
nodding my head, a new pitcher on the hill
it hurls past my chest, just missing my heart
love says "ball one" as the clock again starts
it's the seventh inning stretch, I need the relief
I brush off the dust, no way will I retreat
the coach saunters over, giving a pep talk
as the lines are redrawn on the infield with chalk
the board shows each tally, each inning not close
no intervention from heaven or its holy hosts
and I shut the book on yet, another losing season
I'll still play the game with faith in the reasons
Copyright © Jo Bien | Year Posted 2010
On first romantic date,
At river-side I met
alone with my soulmate,
when Sun was about to set
The Sky displayed twilight,
dispersing hues, faint, bright.
Breeze touched us in delight.
Evening tried to merge night.
We leaned on tree at strand,
Both of us hand in hand.
In silence, we had to stand.
Chirping birds sent errand.
Charming crescent Moon rose.
He glanced, smiled, came close,
offered posy of rose.
I took and stood on toes.
Time paused for a moment.
Posy of rose sent scent.
He took me in arms, bent.
He kissed me, I was thrilled.
Passionate love was sealed.
and then Contest by John Lawless
Copyright © Anisha Dutta | Year Posted 2017
POEM 44 YOUR HEART BEEN TOUCH BY LOVE
YOUR HEART BEEN TOUCH BY LOVE THAT COME FROM MY HEART TO YOURS FOR LIFE.
OUR HEART IS FULL OF LOVE FOR EACH OTHER THAT SHINE WITH EACH PASSING DAY.
OUR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER IS FOR A LIFE TIME OF LOVE & JPOY, PEACE & HAPPINESS.
OUR TRUE FEELING FOR EACH OTHER COMES FORM OUR HEART AS ONE.
BY:MR. JERRY BIG PAPA WELLS
Copyright © Jerry Wells | Year Posted 2016
POEM 2 THE LOVE
WE WAS SO CLOSE TO EACH OTHER THAT WE JUST OUT OF REACH.
EVERY WAKING MOMENT THAT WE ARE TOGETHER THE LOVE FOR EACH OTHER
WE HAVE IS MOST WONDERFUL & JOYFUL TO ONE ANOTHER.
EVEN WHEN WE KISS IT LAST SO LONG I CAN NOT FOR GET IT CASUE IT IS SO SWEET.
BY: MR. JERRY BIG PAPA WELLS
Copyright © Jerry Wells | Year Posted 2017
Love Is Calling
I heard God call late one eve
(There's love for you if you walk my way )
I ignored the warning, but continued to pray
Slowly I began to change my wordly disarray
(Because God first loved me I maintain and stay safe )
I joined the local church after a member led the way
defiance, resistance and temptation swayed my initial attempt at faithfulness...
After increased knowledge understanding sunk in
Hallelujah ! There's a place for me in God's holy land.
bible verses are armor against my evidence of sin
I grabbed ahold of the word to ruin the devil's evil plan
My faith has grown, my heart is known.
I see myself as God sees me
The sowing of seed the assignment God reads
building righteous relationships through fellowship
The medium of prayer and worship brings deliverance
Joy gives strength to the weak
so when God calls don't harden your heart
There's so much peace in the presence of God's abundance...
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2017
Northside of Chi-Town is full of emotion.
In the ‘45 Series Cubs and Tigers are battling.
Sianis buys two tickets to show his devotion.
Is booted ‘cause his billy goat won’t stop bahbling.
He curses the Cubbies and causes a commotion.
But spring is rooted in fans' love and devotion
Like lush, green, yellow, crimson, ivy will never
Stop growing. Year after year fans fear
Hearts will shatter but remain forever
Faithful chanting “Wait ‘til next year!”
Generations grow up cheering with great emotion.
Generations grow old enduring gut-wrenching loss
Bleeding among Lovable Losers time
And again, but no Cubbie faithful dares cross
To the Southside—it’d be a traitorous crime.
In 2003, faithful fans’ love and devotion
Promises fruition as Dusty Baker
Arrives Northside heralded as the Cubs’ savior.
But NLCS Game 6 at Wrigley is a heartbreaker.
Cubs need five outs but collide with a traitor.
Steve Bartman’s still in hiding; his name elicits emotion.
Castillo’s bat aims grenade over foul territory.
Cubs’ fielder Alou springs towards the heavens to snatch
But when feet touch dirt Cubs land in purgatory.
Faithful gasp: Curse of the Billy Goat sets a rematch.
Since that fateful day in ‘45 exploding with emotion
Wrigley hasn’t seen another World Series.
Since Bartman's affair in 2003, Cubs haven’t won
A playoff series. But Billygoat yaks to Mrs. O’Leary’s
Ol’ Cow an’ scoffs at the new scapegoat’s unearned run.
In 2011, after 91-losses, Ricketts proves his devotion
Adding the sabermetrics guru who now values emotions.
Epstein arrives at Northside championing human connections
Rebuilds Cubs’ roster with players who reverse the motion
108-years and character solves equation for a winners’ resurrection.
Hearts ripping open is a crushing emotion
But fans never stopped believin' in near
Foreseeable future ‘cause they’re loyal
Lovers and nothin’s as good as baseball ‘n’ beer
At Wrigley for 81 games on your own home soil.
Copyright © Elizabeth Clipner | Year Posted 2017
So here I am again
Waiting on a deadly train
Facing raw elements freezing rain
Storming in heart and brain
I want time to go away
And blackness to soothe
I wish I could hit replay
And erase the memory of the day
Pray let me forget.
You wrecked my heart and soul in vain
Going round and round in circles
Dropping crumbs to be found
Going in going out
Of sanity and of doubt
You talk about your death
And where I'd find your will
I may not survive you
Leave it on the window cill
I'm hiding in the dark
In the dungeons in my mind
Safer there from all the demons
in you I find
Not even the bairns
Have refuge from your rage
You crushed us all
With your iron boot
For intrigue on your stage.
Copyright © Karen Cleaver-Bascombe | Year Posted 2016
POEM 4 I LOVE YOU
I LOVE YOU I TOLD YOU HOW I CARE ABOUT YOU.
I LOVE YOU I TOLD YOU THE REASON WHY I LOVE YOU.
I LOVE YOU I TOLD HOW I FEEL FOR YOU IT IS TRUE.
I LOVE YOU IN EVERY WAT THERE IS TO LOVE A PERSON.
MR. PROFESSOR. JERRY”BIG PAPA” WELLS
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Copyright © Jerry Wells | Year Posted 2017