Best Bat Poems
He was known as Joltin John
With his baseball bat and his cap upon
He played the game with vigour and speed
Many a supporter said he was all that they need
Was born Guiseppe Paolo DiMaggio number eight child
Lived in America for his eighty four years 'til he died
Played as centre fielder during all his career
With the New York Yankees, who he held dear
Described by some as an uncaring brute
Responsible for Marilyn Monroe sliding into disrepute
With sedatives and such by dominating her so much
Controlling her career to stop her kissing men and such
He craved the limelight just for himself
Yet disliked Marilyn doing the same herself
Yet on the field he was no freak
Known for his 56 game hitting streak
Was MVP winner three times with determination
An all star in each of his thirteen seasons
You will find him in the baseball hall of fame
Look closely you will see his name
Was voted as sports living legend of all time
Was the baseball centennial year of nineteen sixty nine
His first wife was Dorothy Arnold an extra on the film
in which his minor role endured her to him
Married for just five years a son was born
Carries the name of Joseph John
In later years after the Arthur a Miller charade
DiMaggio rescued her from the tormented life she had
Would sit and read poetry on their latter years
Finding a Contentment that slated all fears
So this man had his bad points and good
Needed to reach his soul to be understood
Deep down inside he loved Marilyn for sure
This we will never find out, cos he is no more
He stands alone high in his baseball we surely know that
As a father and husband on his nose he fell flat
.
Remember when we see these idols it's all outer skin
We will never ever know what they are thinking within.
penned 20/4/2015
Dad gave me my first wood baseball bat
an Eddie Mathews signature model, 28 inches long
when I was 10 or 11 ('66 or '67)
shortly after he got me my first lefty glove
(I still have it, so small! with a bullseye crudely hand inked in the center!)
after a few years, it splintered near the handle
I tried nailing it back together, the hickory
shaft was tough to penetrate, but I kinda got
it done, then wrapped the job in some electrical
tape I found
whenever I tried using it again, hitting a pitch
sent shivers thru my hands and wrist like a
lightning bolt shocking me
before long, I left it in the sports closet Dad built
into the canned goods cabinet in the basement
he made for fall canning
so whenever I opened the cabinet door, the wonderful
smell of wood and leather combined with the
rows of gleaming jars of fruits and vegetables
delighted me!
canned beans, peaches, pickles and more
all lined up to select from when Mom or Dad
would send me downstairs to choose side
dishes for supper
frozen meat was kept in the 8' freezer chest
in Dad's workroom thru the door
being sent for that was a special privilege
my brother and I relished
( my sister, being 3 years younger, didn't get many chances!)
I remember there were honorary sports relics in
the closet on the top shelf
a leather football helmet Dad's Uncle Depot wore
before WW11 along with his old softball, the kind
with the exposed seams (I still have it)
wonderful memories
from a
magical time
I will always treasure
© james marshall goff
I have a cat that wears no hat;
though her paws do love to bat,
her mice and balls,
all through my hall.
A clever cat,
a feisty cat,
I made her a nice catnip rat;
my hyper-active tabby cat.
A cat with tail all poofed and fluffed;
her claws are never, ever rough;
they’re so sharp and needle-like;
my god, they’re really more like spikes!
All through the night she bounds and plays;
sometimes in a catnip haze.
All day long she’s in a snooze;
fortunately, she doesn’t drink any booze.
I know she’s been on my computer,
looking for a kitty-suitor.
The claw marks on my keyboard tell,
without me hearing her collar bell.
Her favorite website, “Kitten Caboodle”;
actually sells tuna noodles.
I know because my credit card,
had more than thirty orders charged!
A confrontation did ensue;
she wound up with her ego bruised.
Pouting cat took paws that bat,
took out her frustration on catnip rat.
I tell you honestly,
I tell you true;
be grateful she doesn’t
belong to you.
Written 3-7-19
For Contest: "Honoring Dr. Seuss Poetry Contest"
Sponsor: Michelle Faulkner
The picnic was set for today:
A cause for two hips and hooray.
With Split and Blueberry,
Their time would be merry
That’s if nothing got in their way…
The deviled eggs had to come first,
‘Cause a picnic without them’s the worst.
They proceeded to beg
The hens for some eggs,
And boiled them when they were submersed.
But when Bat and Gat started to pack,
Their picnic plans went off the tracks.
It was almost Bat’s fault,
Since the pepper and salt
Hadn’t made it yet into the sack.
The only thing they had to do
Was to pick up their friends Split and Blue.
With a rabbit and goat,
And their deviled egg tote,
They could hike to the overlook view.
Well, the eggs made a pretty nice spread
When added to Split’s honey bread.
But, sitting down eating,
An unwelcome greeting
Then filled them with terror and dread.
’Twas the sound of a huge rattlesnake;
What a racket that rattle did make!
Though none could find him
Out front or behind them,
Poor Blue and Split started to shake.
Then Gat sprung away like the breeze,
And spied him from up in the trees.
She pointed to Bat
Where the rattler was at,
And told everyone else to freeze.
Yikes, the snake tried to strike at his knees;
Bat evaded his strike with great ease.
Quick did a side-stepper,
And doused him with pepper,
And the rattlesnake started to sneeze!
Well, that was the end of the battle;
They all could now safely skedaddle.
The pepper, in fact
Brought such an attack
That his sneezes set off his rattle!
They all walked home in the sun,
And all had turned out to be fun.
An eggcellent day!
Yes, hip, hip hooray!
Bat and Gat, hero cats, number one!
There’s a fluttering in my attic;
something’s alive up there.
The cat is getting frantic
and I dread going up the stairs.
I hope that it’s a bird,
rather than a bat;
unless I have misheard,
oh, I’d better get a hat.
I recall my sister’s hair,
when a bat flew into it;
it truly was a horrid affair,
she threw an awful fit.
I hope it’s not a vulture,
no, the louvers aren’t that big.
I hope it’s just a sparrow,
if it is, I’ll dance a jig.
There’s a fluttering in my attic,
some creature has moved in.
I hope it’s an easy rescue;
a challenge I can win.
Bat's fang ditches, vampiric disease needs stitches,
as carmine blood seeps, forever now she sleeps
I know a lady who sports two huge chins
She even proudly shows off her bat wings
Always smiles as she goes
Never airs her sorrows
Joy to the world this happy woman brings.
This lady will go out knocking on doors
To see if anyone needs help with chores
She does good deeds for free
Accepts a cup of tea
In reward for cleaning up someone’s floors.
Two chins is better than being two faced
Two faced is being an utter disgrace
Talking behind one's back
Is a verbal attack
Likely to cause someone a coup de grace.
Bat, ball, and glove, a sacred rite of spring
Timeless afternoons of joy shared by all
Everyone gets a chance to give a swing
To meet the challenge: putting bat on ball.
Stretch, windup, and pitch, a flaming fastball
Hitter gives it flight with resounding crack
Outfielder’s eyes wide, then pedaling back
Jubilant bat toss, he breaks into run
Pitcher’s shoulders droop, his jaw going slack
Outfielder against fence, it’s a home run!
4/10/16
Yes, spring has sprung and the bat phone is ringing.
Dragon is at it again! He grabbed his cape! No kidding!
Wouldn’t you know! Here we go, with his eyes to the sky.
Look out bad guys! He’s soaring up in the air, so say bye-bye.
In this case there was a fire, some place, Dragon was needed NOW!
A little girl lost in a fire so hot, and no one can find her, somehow!
So Dragon came in, flew right in, but she wasn’t anywhere on top.
The basement next, there she sat balled up, real close, & so scared.
She was protecting her kittens and a momma cat! And she was in tears!
Dragon to the rescue! He saved all the little ones, huddled in great fear.
He pushed them outside through the basement window, isn’t he a dear?
Tho he naturally, wouldn’t fit through that window, that was so near!
He climbed slowly up the steps, where the house was totally engulfed.
But, never fear, he’s a Dragon, my dear, flames simply don’t bother him.
He got to the back door, as a volunteer fireman, totally hosed him down.
Literally, ALL the way down, to the basement again! HEY! Silly Clown!
The fireman, the Sheriff of Crazyland, was trying to hold the hose, tight!
Out of control, he blew Dragon, back down in the hole! Until, the others…
Could grab it away! The Sheriff of Crazyland, still wanting to be helpful…
He took the little girl and cats to her Mom! So HE was called the hero!
He got a photo taken, for a newspaper spread, as Yep! Here we go again!
By the time Dragon got out, few were about, as the fear had gone away.
And Dragon’s chance to be a hero, well that too, had flown far, that day.
Now, WE ALL KNOW, the great thing he, absolutely, himself, had done.
Later, he’d leave the mascot title behind, to become a Full Fledge Fireman.
But he wouldn’t be there to receive it, until later that next day, you see…
For now, he’s too busy, chasing the Sheriff of CrazyLand, all over the place.
And guess what! He made the front page under the Hero Sheriff, that said…
“That Crazy Dragon! Guess What? He’s at It AGAIN… Chasing the Hero!”
But Don’t Worry, I made him a New Cape! And I called the newspapermen.
So he got a correction, on what happened, along with news of his promotion!
Next day, Umm, on the very LAST page. Oh, Well! Sigh! Can’t win them all.
But you and I… We will always know… The End
"Bat Crazy 5"
Some say
she was batsh** crazy
life hits the windscreens
in the labyrinth of life
that way
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
an upwards inflection, “You know”,
in the Queen’s Land, "all under control"
the open palm under the shaft
moving all the way up to 5,
reflecting on the mirror rearview
she watches the eyes
of her child
dreaming of open highways
the foot remains pinned
to the metal, fast to the floor
full speed, left brained left hand
holding hard-gripped the gear stick
never once moving from 5
the left all the way up to targa 5
right hand up on the wheel
left hand down right up to 5
windows spitting emeralds
like a baphomet
the two finger salute
the other above so below
watches on
"here we go again",
the 1 above it all
watches on
as above so below
that 1's long-suffering
that way, aghast, but resolute,
that 1 has never-ending reserves
of eternal patience
and watches on
perplexed
her mind geared on
how to kill off
a spider
and his sister, next
changing lanes
easier said than done
when you're hell-bent on
Freedom
the highway sign
Happy New Year
flashes ever onwards by,
foot to the floor
left brain baffled
at forgiveness
at Christmas
long gone by
right hand on the wheel
left hand down
open palmed
shifting gears
accelerating increduality
towards the accuracy
in the justice of karma
drivers sitting on both shoulders
inside the vehicle
holding the wheel
the internal speaks
to the universe
listening
for kindness
and answers
on a lost highway
Blue Sky
nods, as if in agreement,
that 1's always amused -
but never confused, that way
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
“Is it possible to switch dimensions?
There is currently no conceivable way to get to these if they exist, and they may only be possible, not actual. To travel between realities, they need to be in proximity. To be in proximity and not interact, they need to be incompatible. If it is a compatible universe you could travel to, it is already here.”
"Won’t you let me know,
if you made it home that night
Oh won’t you let me know
If our bones made it home alright..."
Take me out to the kill people game
Turn me loose on the crowd
Give me some kidneys and backs to crack
I don't care who it is I attack
Let me bash, bash, bash as they scream loud
If they don't die it's a shame
Cuz it's one, two, three strikes you're dead
In the old kill people game.
The crack of the bat, game’s invocation
From stadium to sandlot, all the same
Temples to the spirit of our nation
Listen closely, wind whispers ancient names
The greats in attendance at every game
Rejuvenated by the youthful heart
The soul of our sport, true performance art
Its palpable spirit, real as it seems
It beckons you, invites you to take part
Become the legend on the field of dreams
4/11/16
written for my dear daughter, Natalie
Nat, the vampire bat,
Was as cute as a bat could be-
She loved to go to school,
But hated her class on hematology.
"I think I'm in the wrong body,"
She often would exclaim-
"I cannot stand the sight of blood,
It makes me go insane."
"My legs get wobbly,
My wings shiver,
My sonar sensors stop working,
And my lips begin to quiver!"
Nat went home to mom and dad,
And asked, "What shall I do?"
They looked at each other and said,
"You'll have to stay home from school."
Nat was quite unhappy,
She would miss all of her friends,
She had to think of something else,
"My life's just going to end!"
She went into her cave room,
All she could do was pout-
Have to call my friends, she thought,
And pulled her cell phone out.
"I need help," she announced,
"Anyone got an idea in mind?"
She texted, tweeted, pleading her case,
A solution she was desperate to find!
Many answers came her way,
She filtered them one by one,
The best were from Professor Owl,
And Sly - principal Fox's son.
First option was just to adapt,
Stay home - take things in stride-
She pondered over this for awhile,
And finally sat down and cried!
Option two was more palatable,
Sly's idea was much, much better.
Nat thought she could digest this one,
But her parents had to write a letter!
The letter she carried to school that morn,
A happy bat was she-
Instead of studying blood, it read-
Let her take carpology!
The teachers were all amazed-
About what a choice had brought-
The little bat's grade soared to an "A,"
Her spirit no longer distraught!
Nat, the vampire bat,
Started a new tradition at school-
Classes were allowed to be changed,
It was no longer against the rules!
The school made headline news,
Performance index scores climbed high-
Policy changes must sometimes be made,
To keep things from going awry!
~*~
~~**~~
bat flies sees nothing
from his nest eagle sees all
the groundhog takes bets
~~**~~
~*~
bat
echo detective
hanging around hovels
pursuing dwellers of the
night