No kitchen home run
Over done
Hardness baked
Teeth couldn’t bite
Those biscuits certainly weren’t light
Totally wonder plight
They were made to throw
Oh know
Unfamiliar with ingredient
Those biscuits should be on the baseball field
For real
Biscuits playball
Solitary walk beneath a moonlit night sky.
Sparkling river reflects moonlight as I walk by.
Geese are flying in the clouds so high.
I also see the northern lights in the sky.
Not so solitary anymore, people at the baseball field.
Houses and a church with their lights, I put on an eye shield.
Suddenly a tree appears to look like a person, so I yield.
The street light flickering brighter as the truth was revealed.
Dogs are suddenly barking from houses afar,
As I walk the street viewing glowing islands so far.
Clouds unveiling the night stars, then I see a bright star.
As I continue to smoke and fill my lungs with tar.
Solitary walk beside a moonlit river sparkling forever.
I am listening to music that fills me with fervor.
My heart pacing steadier as I take in the flavor
Of a delicacy of a drink on which I sip and savor.
Had given Willie all of our praise;
To see great plays would watch Mays;
Out in field, we did find him roam;
A baseball field was friendly home.
To play baseball always did love;
Caught fabulous flies with his glove;
When the bases had been loaded,
He hit ball and bat exploded.
After runners crossed the bases,
We would see smiles on their faces;
After they had scored run by run,
Found that game was finally done.
Amazing Mays was no longer here;
Frantic fly Into clear sky did disappear;
Baseball always would love and laud;
New team on will be coached by God.
I took a walk on a summer day
Just wanting to get away
To where I spent my childhood years
Looked around and shed some tears
Dutch Hill Park was no longer there
There was no laughter in the air
I started walking among those trees
But All I’ve got are the memories
Then I walked down Glenwood Avenue
To the baseball field for a short view
Then it was time to head downtown
And spend the day just hanging around
Newberry’s, Scheid’s, the National Store
And the five and dime were there no more
Thought about the Texas Lunch and the S & A,
Palma, Nap and the music we’d play
Damn I thought how the years went so fast
Found myself living in the past
Days seems so much better than these
Now all I’ve got are the memories
The Coffee Cup and the Bowl O Drome
Just a few blocks from Saint Jerome
The Iron Steps to Washington Street
Five Point Diner where we use to meet
Painting store fronts for Halloween
Stop at Nick’s and play the pinball machine
Getting late time to head back home
Drove past the place we use to roam
Wound the window down to feel the evening breeze
Now all I’ve got are the memories
There's the old house again
the one you've heard so much about...
'Course it looks much smaller now
and the front yard, that was
our baseball field, has shrunk...
Why is my stomach churning
What are these tears that blind my eyes
Oh, I can't bear to think upon it again...
The mind shields the trembling heart
The heart weeps unrepentantly
I stepped out onto the baseball field of life
Nervous flutters stirring inside me
Realizing it was my time
My time to bat
Sweaty hands
Nervous stomach
Sweat rolling down my forehead
Nothing was going to stop me
I got in position
I lifted my bat
I closed my eyes
I took a deep breath
Trying to relax myself
It was my time
Yes, my time
Trials and tribulations won't hinder me
Hardships and persecution won't discourage me
I'll survive no matter what
I won't walk away
I won't give up
This is what I've waited for
A chance to fulfill my dreams
Dreams the Lord has given me
This is what I thought to myself, as I stood there gripping my bat
My face covered in sweat
My heart pounding in my chest
As I prepared to swing at whatever came my way
Maybe I'll hit the ball out of the ballpark today
So I braced myself, as the ball made its way to me
Here it comes
Here it comes
I closed my eyes
And I swung
And………
And, what's next?
The beagle with a brown tail really stood out
for his high intelligence and good behavior;
he looked up to me as his rescuer and savior,
he was well-loved by me, he had no doubt.
I sought a related name for his sniffing cognition,
" Sniffer " seemed the perfect one I deemed;
very remarkable was his sensory perception,
I was stunned by this beautiful and gifted breed.
Out into the empty baseball field we often went,
I threw my hard ball and he caught it instantly;
I sat down and he ran to me breathing heavily
and licking my face, he smeared it with his scent.
The beagle with a long brown tail was rarely quite;
he had gorgeous eyes more brilliant than a lapis stone;
they winked and shone while I fetched his cookie bone...
many afternoons we chased rabbits to beguile time.
Entered in Laura Loo's contest,
" I Love My Pets "
Written on 1/ 24/2016
The sweat pours down from
tank tops and t-shirts,
preposterously loud screams explode
on the baseball field around them.
Drink it all in for a win that's more
than a glory of the game
by those who long for excitement
and the possibility of league's trophy.
The raucous crowd of spring flock together
their arms flinging outrageous signals ,
with high pitched hurrah, as bats fly off
to gaily rattle, “Oh, my! Go get 'em!”
when men become boys of spring's home-run!
Batter Up Contest
Somewhere there’s a baseball
Shivering in the cold
Somewhere there’s a baseball glove
Afraid of growing old.
Somewhere there’s a baseball bat
Some weary cleats - sweat stained hat.
Somewhere there’s a baseball field
Beneath snow’s winter fall
Somewhere dreaming children
Hear the umpire shout
“Play Ball”.
John G. Lawless
submitted to – Batter Up – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Debbie Guzzi
Do they play baseball in heaven.
Wonder if you know if they play baseball in heaven?
Think they have a baseball field in the clouds?
Does guys like Mickey mantle and Frank Robins on.
Does the great Babe Ruth hit home runs?
Are there teams like the Yankees or the braves up there.
I know God must have a team he likes.
I want to find out if they are the angels.
Do you think that I will be able to play with the cool ones?
I know they must have a hall of fame with guys like Joe and Stan
Somewhere
Somewhere there’s a baseball
Shivering in the cold
Somewhere there’s a baseball glove
Afraid of growing old.
Somewhere there’s a baseball bat
Some weary cleats and sweat stained hat.
Somewhere there’s a baseball field
Beneath snow’s winter fall
Somewhere dreaming children
Hear the umpire shout
“Play Ball”.
John G. Lawless
Fist of crumpled bills, reading through the flavors etched in chalk;
While couples hand in hand, lean on one another and sweet talk.
She orders just for one; Chocolate seems to help when she’s depressed,
The buzzing ice cream lights illuminate the face of loneliness.
Chaotic cafeteria, he’s harassed for sport,
There will be no lunch today; the athletes, they extort.
Racing home to stay unscathed is his daily test,
Behind the baseball field they bruise the face of loneliness.
Flopping with some friends of his, he pilfered as they slept,
Withdrawal had him seething as his craving quickly crept.
Hypodermic and possession; he plead no contest.
He held the slate as they photographed the face of loneliness
“Will she come to visit today?” Trying to remember his daughter’s name.
He sighs, propped in his wheelchair, in his shirt with a coffee stain
“I should probably shower, but who the hell do I have to impress?”
His TV blares as he drags the razor across the face of loneliness.
"A Vision of Existence - Baby Style"
my eyes blink within a cushioned comfort zone
fingers and toes cling to tender warm insides
I tend to dream of bicycles when I birth flesh and bone
or a pink doll house where a loving family abides.
my swimming skills are limited as I lay in Mommy's womb
one day I'll jump the high dive at the beach
in a few months I'll push my way out of this vacuumed tomb
to taste sweet fruits; my favorite will be peach.
I dream of running round a baseball field on a sunny day
or jumping rope or riding skates with friends
sometimes, I wonder, how Mommy will hold me in her special way
how Daddy will teach me great things where learning never ends.
I know I'll have a nursery room with toys and books and games
in the corner an awesome truck with cool fender
am sure my parents are hard at work browsing baby names
but I will have the last surprise revealing to them, my gender.
*For Unborn Baby Dream by The Scribe
Over thirty years ago
I had the bravest dog,
and by her lustrous, fluffy fur
I happily called her:
the most courageous hound
a boy could ever find.
On summers' afternoons
we went to a baseball field a couple of miles away...
it hasn't changed a bit today;
all the kids said she behaved well without a bark.
Like me she was in the prime of youth,
and together we buried my first fallen tooth...
were she alive today, she would find it instantly
without pausing and thinking for a second where it would be;
I may have forgotten the exact spot where that spruce stood,
and barking she would be ready to dig it up with claws stronger than wood.
O friend of adventurous days that ended in peace
a profound sadness overwhelms me with tears,
which other dog could replace the love and loyalty you had?
You were the bravest one, the kindest one alive...
If I had magical powers, I would bring you back and smile!
I have a fascination
With things that can take flight
Not so much with birds
But gliders, planes and kites
Then as a grade school kid
Different kites I would build
From string, sticks and newspaper
And then fly them on the hill
I thought gliders were “the thing”
Then control line came along
Short on cash and knowledge
My planes all turned out wrong
By the time I went to college
I had learned to build one right
We flew them on the baseball field
We even flew at nigh
We were living in Seattle
In all that mist and rain
When I took some lessons
And learned to fly a plane
The job I had with Boeing
When this was going on
Had me flying in the AWACS
Some flights were all night long
RC models was my bag
When retirement came around
Then I decided to give it up
To make a Bluegrass sound
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