Best Baseballs Poems
I watched them go to work each morning
A kid growing up in the coal regions
Remembering the dirt and the pride
The self respect that came from earning
The self reliance and the sense of community
I never knew the need to knock on a door
My dad’s keys were in the ignition of the old Ford
Kids playing baseball with taped up baseballs
Carpenter’s nail holding the bat together
And eight gloves between seventeen kids
Catcher didn’t need one
Wednesday afternoons the miners filled the bars
Sunday mornings they filled the churches
I watched them coming home each late afternoon
A kid growing up in the coal regions
Remembering the dirt and the pride
Blackened faces smiling
Another rugged hard day in, walking proud
Wrestle with the kids, family time
The important things
I watched them converging on a home
A kid growing up in the coal regions
Remembering the dirt and the pride
Mining accident, covered dishes, neighbors
One town, one neighborhood, one family
A feeling of belonging, community, our town
Clothes lines, party lines, coal mines
The dirt and the pride. TAMAQUA.
I was hoping for just a caress or maybe a stroke
but all I got was noises, smoke, and restless rebuff
I was wishing for a tree hugger who would
place their arms around me and love me
but all I got was misaligned baseballs and tramples
My limbs expand far and wide
and my roots are deep, part of everything down under
still they walk around as if I don't even exist
as if I'm just a stump, standing there like a bump on a log
I get moonstruck at night by the beauty of the sky
and warmed by the sun when the dawn arrives at will
I rejoice at the sound of a child's laughter,
or when someone takes a nap beneath my full branches.
I am a tree who loves people, creatures and things,
even a misaligned baseballs, better that then nothing at all.
When days grow longer, you know it is spring
The sun warms the earth's soil, whoa! it's spring.
Shades of tender green appear, warm sun's here
Barefoot, run out, stump your toe, lively spring.
Colored blooms show in the woods, love floats round
Maidens slip and kiss their beau, that is spring.
Little boys throw baseballs fast, run at last
Coats disappear, red cheeks glow, joy in spring.
Sunflower plants zinnia seeds, soon they show
Awesome renewals bestow, lovely spring.
I've got footballs.I've got basketballs.I've got baseballs.
And now, they're showing my balls on ESPN.
But the smallest balls I've ever seen?
Were golf balls.
Ping Pong balls were even smaller.
Would you like to join me, for a game of table tennis?
Because! I've got balls..
I've got red balls.I've got white balls.I've got blue balls.
And now, they're playing The Star Spangled Banner.
But the biggest balls I've ever seen?
Were elephant balls.
How many balls does it take to reach the moon?
One! But it's got to be a big one.
One big ball..
I'm going down to the ball room right now, and have a ball.
Would you like to join me?
We'll have a real good time.
Because! I've got balls..
Humorous Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2002,2014..
ALL rights reserved..
Season end
Baseball bats will soon be quiet.
As football season takes a kick
Golf ball will be put away so a president can go to work.
Hockey sticks will soon hit the puck
And baseballs will go in the net.
The summer season is scheduled to end.
Hello winter let it begin.
It is a wonder what the mind can come up with....
Me and my friend Mary from school,
sat at the table with all of our tools.
These boys walked up and started to chat,
and me and Mary learned about their bats..
And how playing with their baseballs was cool.
They talked of twigs and berries,
of innocent secrets they carried,
about experiences in sport camp.
And in the light of a lamp,
i giggled to myself and Mary.
They had no idea what was done,
how much they provided for puns,
Mary and I were dying,
stories of spelunking and mining,
and how their pet snake weighed a ton.
I couldn't hold myself back for much more,
trapped words inside made me sore,
so i opened my mouth,
and prepared to shout out..
And THEN I opened THAT innapropriate door
Thought up on 6/17/2015 for a contest on this website, hope you enjoy!
A tornado comes and goes so quick
Sometimes revisiting on the same day
Air humid, breathing hard and thick
Best advice given…get out of its way
Sounds like freight train bearing down
Delivers this –Varoommmmmmmmmm
Next best advice--don’t live in a valley
Respite from twisters in Oklahoma town
Not possible— it’s tornado alley
Here’s the scoop
May 5, 1960…The date of the natural crime
Wilburton, Oklahoma…quiet and boring
Me…my life, smooth and in my prime
Outside, trouble brewing, rain pouring
No wind—then dark---storm clouds
Sudden change and all so loud
No way to stop---nature makes it way
Tornadoes F4 hit twice that day
Up one hill, down in the valley, another hill
A path right through main street
Wiped out fifteen blocks with shocking skill
Score tornado 16, town 0…no receipt
Sadly, sixteen dead, hundreds hurt
Think disaster, destruction, devastation
Hail equates baseballs—certain disconcert
Wind 250 miles per hour, an aberration
On a personal note
Mom, sister, and I alone
Little sister told to put football helmet on
I get only, “You better pray. Don't groan."
Three females in bathtub…no put-on
Scared, hoping this was a no drop zone
First cyclone over…it was no spoof
Uh, oh, second one took the roof---
But not us…Prayed and prayed
God was there, though fear stayed
What happens next...nothing good
Can’t drink the water…
Dysentery, typhoid, cholera—it could
Can’t go to school
Smushed-–classes postponed
Can’t go to church
Smashed---future unknown
Can’t find food
Red Cross helps pick up the tone
Friends hurt, one killed
One man up in the swirl…
Carried him about a mile—life unfulfilled
No limbs left—no head to twirl
People scared another will hit
The normal long gone—some split
Build shelters, that's the name of the game
Yet, life did go on... but nothing ever the same
With magnetic fascination
akin to domestication
I connect with Ms. Rabbit’s dawn.
Four babies she’s laid in my lawn.
Provoked by supernal emotion
stirred by a sense of procreation
I cancel lawn fertilizer.
Grass cutter? I will advise her.
Unparalleled admiration
drives my kids to affirmation.
They promise to protect new pets
no bikes, baseballs or bayonets.
Deeply compelled, preservation
builds a hutch in exaltation.
Field glasses from my window pane
track nature’s risks: sun, wind and rain.
July 6, 2019
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
for contest FINETUNE THIS, A COLLABORATION sponsored by Line Gauthier
AFFINITY WITH NATURE
by Line Gauthier
Magnetic fascination
Kin to emancipation
A connection internal
Stirs emotions supernal
Nature is unparalleled
Provokes intoxication
As we feel deeply compelled
To exalt admiration
It's not easy becoming a Legendary
Major League Baseball pitcher.
It never was and will never be.
You get put through the wringer
and hung out to dry.
From time to time you'll get little or no
run support.
You may have to face Legendary Icons
of the game 2 and 3 times in a game.
Come face to face with undisguised
Batting Champions.
Silver Slugger Award Winners.
Members and potential Members of the
500 Home Run Club.
Members and potential Members
of the 3000 Hits Club
A few Future Members of
Baseballs Hall of Fame
as well as Iconic MLB ALL STARS.
You will face monumental challenges.
You'll get worn down and roughed up
being on the road 82 games a season.
As a Major League Baseball Starting Pitcher
you suck it up, go out on the mound
and challenge history.
You bring your "A" game
You bring your best fastball
your best curve ball
and your best change up.
When you average 33 starts a season.
Average 10 complete games per season.
Average 3 shut outs per season.
Throw a No Hitter every 3.857 seasons.
Face an average 972 batters per season.
Average 232 innings per season
Through hot , cold , humid and sticky weather.
Give up an average 169 hits per season.
Average 232 innings per season.
Average 82 earned runs per season.
Give up an average 14 home runs in 33 games
over 232 innings per season.
When you average 120 walks per season
Strike out an average 246 batters per season
for a career total of 5714.
It kinda looks like this.
6.6 hits per 9 innings
4.7 walks per 9 innings
9.5 strike outs per 9 innings
Over 27 seasons.
When you do that for a total of 27 seasons
The critics will call you the next
Nolan Ryan.
The Legendary Strike Out King
Member of Major League Baseballs
Hall of Fame.
Michael E. Harris
02202022
I do not want to do adult today.
Let us, please, my love, go out to play.
Please, agree to no adult today.
No purse, no keys, not even the car;
let us walk to the park, it is not far.
Today we can be preteen baseball stars.
Think of the sweet memories we will gain
should we sever responsibilities chain
and live from our dormant, child-like brains.
I want jeans, tennis shoes, my bright cap -
I will put my hair thru the hole in back.
Grab water, baseballs, our gloves and bats.
We will hit, pitch, catch and we will run.
We will touch the bases, one by one.
I plan to be dirty when we are done.
Same old, same old, makes no memory,
so, come, my love, and be young with me.
Where have you gone little boy
with the dark curly hair
and the skinny body.
I used to see you run and play
and chase lightning bugs and baseballs.
Where have you gone little boy
with the sparkle in your eyes
and the giggle when you chased the butterflies.
Where is the laughter that came with practical jokes
and flowers picked by the side of the road to
surprise your mother as she met you at the door.
That little boy is still close by
only now he sits in his overstuffed chair
and dozes in the warm spring air
No longer chasing butterflies and baseballs
but contenting himself to watch foolish things on
that idiot box.
Why don't you come out and play little boy
Life is not much fun, when there is no one to play with.
Our lab named “Blackjack”, looks just like a bear
Jet black and grey, the color of his hair.
He’s an English Lab, with the big wide head
We bought him instead, of buying a bed.
He wouldn’t come in, in the barn he’d live
“Jack” ran and he played, lots of love to give.
While we were at work, my dad would hang out
He’d come to the farm, let “Jack” roam about.
One day dad was mad, he fell in the stones
He was so lucky, he didn’t break bones.
He called “Jack” to come, to feed him his treat
“Jack” came from behind, knocked dad off his feet.
This happened again, no brains did he lack
For he was quite smart, just don’t turn your back.
“Jack” loved taking off, to the field he’d run
He thought this a game, and found it quite fun.
When he would get mad, the barn he would chew
Where the nails went, we hadn’t a clue.
He grew up quite strong, protector at that
He chased off foxes, and sometimes a bat.
He had his own house, when we moved to town
He’d take everything, if not all glued down.
Knives, hats and helmets, and many a shoe
Footballs and baseballs, and newspapers too.
He thought it was fun, to set up his house
Probably even chased, out many a mouse.
Tried studding out “Jack”, the poor guy was old
The female was smart, he couldn’t get hold.
“Jack” went out for runs, snuck out of the gate
We’d catch him most times, or else we would wait.
“We just saw your dog”, “but he wouldn’t come”
“Tried giving him bones”, he sure wasn’t dumb.
He’s one of a kind, we love and adore
And when you pet him, he falls to the floor.
He’d sit up quickly, and hand you his paw
You know he’s special, from what you just saw.
Sitting in the audience
behind my eyes
content with my popcorn
i watch myself and
my all fellow actors
perform our epic drama
I’m not sure what to call it
tragicomedy perhaps
here on the world stage
Our script is sparkling
trenchant and deep
the characters so real,
and we have the most convincing
props and scenery -
mountains of joy
rivers of seduction
flamingos of silly hopes
kangaroos of impulse
heroes of grim determination
clouds of possibility
chasms of loss
I am especially charmed
that not only all the other people
but all the things - cars,
houses, trees, baseballs,
thunderclouds, etc. -
everything in fact -
is every bit as alive
as I am myself
with my bit part
no longer the tragic heroine
in her gashed black silk
just the cat
purring
in a puddle of sunlight
This is a ballpark that looks very pretty.
It is named after a bank that is based in the city.
Here, we see the boys of summer do their thing.
Baseballs fly over the fence with a mighty swing.
From early April to late September,
we will have baseball memories we can remember.
The home team will probably not be a contender.
However, they will play the game and not surrender.
I see all of the tragedies all around as even the tallest mountains shake
Who says this is stable ground as now in Nepal yet another earthquake
I seen floods and their wicked path the tsunami that is coming ashore
The hurricane in all it's wrath yet an arsenal that contains even more
I see hailstones the size of baseballs and drought that's only just begun
As each past whether record falls yet the Earth is certainly not yet done
For the storms seem to get worse yet no one's really paying attention
Like our own self style created curse as morals are but a mere mention
Three thousand died in America yesterday but oh yeah they were unborn
And let the world also add their say and why His people are under scorn
Three thousand more today with a sky so blue and 3,000 more tomorrow
The world having taken your soul from within leaving you with no sorrow
We can't predict such disaster as we should have learned from the past
The Lord is King and Master who'd dare break but even one of His cast
To many there is no connection in direct contrast to The Creators Word
Psalms 22:31 is of God's election despite from man what you've heard