Best Homers Poems
ROWNTREE PARK
I have found green here
bordered by white lines
that meet then veer off
into infinity, perfect symmetry,
peppered by flashing yellow dandelions.
These, and more, colours
I have found here.
I have found dreams here
in the bats that sing for singles
and scream for homers,
in the cleats that pound
a rhythm as they slap the ground
with mercurial delight.
Oh, the sights and sounds
that I have found here.
I have found the cycles of life here
in the grass below and the sky above,
in the safe and the out,
I have found peace.
I have found youth here,
for here I am not an old man
barely able to walk,
I am forever ten
as I round the bases and slide
headfirst into home,
the feel of dirt in my face
and the smell of death in the tag.
There is no guarantee
when it comes to the
heart...
though love released with
sincere eternity – our carriers,
though Homers of loyal wings
transverse a sky of hawks
There is no guarantee
when it comes to matters
of interpersonal love – only God knows
man's truest beats – for the mortal heart
is an aggressor
while also retreats
Love, indeed!~ is a campaign of sorts
armies of feelings going forth
entrenchment on both sides
love often hides
while never a victory without
two fond surrenders
If I were to venture a sports analogy,
I'd say life most resembles baseball spiritually.
We spend eons preparing in the dugout,
Then nervously strut out to take our time at bat.
The rival coach directing our adversaries
Is the Father Of Lies and man's false philosophies.
His goal is to prevent us from reaching home plate safely.
His team's minions outnumber us near-infinitely.
The rival pitcher has icy practiced steel-like nerves,
And he's struck out many with foul spitballs and curves.
He pitches things like sloth, envy, greed, media idolatry,
Addictions, “Pro Choice”, perversions, **** and other immorality.
Our beloved Coach whispers to us from the dugout.
HE famously scored grand slams when HE went to bat.
If we listen to Our Coach, and with spirit swing fast and hard,
We'll knock those pitcher’s balls clean out of the yard.
HE knows we won’t always hit solid homers,
So HE doesn’t expect us to succeed just as loners.
We might on our swing just make it to first base,
But the team batters behind us can help us reach home base.
Even though the adversary’s minions outnumber us,
Only our choices will allow them to defeat us.
So with our Coach and team we must stand up,
When the Great Umpire of all calls “Batter Up!”.
(With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer, author of "Casey at the Bat".)
The Mudville nine and Casey have their chance for sweet revenge;
They play today in Dirtburg, their misfortune to avenge.
Two mighty Casey homers have us leading, five to four.
The bottom of the ninth arrives: three cheers for three outs more!
The lead-off slugger, Bugsy, flies to right: out number one.
But Smith and Jones both single; now the worrying’s begun.
So when our pitcher, Nelly, loads the bases with a walk,
In shaken insecurity we hush our hopeful talk.
We badly need a strikeout—better yet, a double play.
But cleanup batter Brutus may have something more to say.
Old Nelly sure looks nervous as he winds up for the pitch,
And Brutus eyes him coolly, and we see his muscles twitch.
And now our hearts stop beating as we hear the bat’s report.
And ahh, relief—we breathe again; he’s grounded straight to short!
The shortstop throws to second for the force: out number two.
The easy lob to first will end this rematch, right on cue.
The Dirtbag Coliseum is erupting in a din:
Uproarious cheers reverberate as Smith and Jones jog in.
The joyful, jubilant half-gibes behind each haughty face
Proclaim our Casey still a bum; he’s overthrown first base.
The clear zing into the air
As my thoughts depart from existence.
The little brain waves ramble along the bases.
Sick to the thought of motion my spirit hovers.
For I never left home plate.
I am everywhere all the time.
Ever since the game of baseball had begun,
nothing excites the fans like a walk-off home run.
In the ninth inning with a tie score,
hit a home run and you don’t have to play anymore.
Perhaps the bullpen did not save the game.
Having a tie score after the ninth is a shame.
This is a common thing that is hardly a quirk.
Extra innings to play means additional work.
If a home team player homers for the local crowd,
the fans with elation will cheer quite loud.
Inning after inning without runs brings frustration.
However, the home team scoring brings jubilation.
To be the team’s latest hero
is the greatest joy any player will ever know.
First half of the month cooler, then the second half warmer
Spring clocks turned forward, daylight lasting longer
Games of gold always told, losing harassed nine-fold
Allowed homers and walked batters that would be never
Scrimmage full of big time moments given, at the end guilt-ridden,
but rainy days getting more frequent leaving fields flooded.
Rainout, rain delay, games are stopped or canceled
deep into the night as fans sit in the grandstands
Agonizing for players and fans alike going home drenched
Despite the weather or the ups and downs of the sports
games will be played and fans will always spend watching their sporting events
4/19/2017
Newsflash
Near the Jewish New Year
Ike Davis of the New York Meetropolitans hit 2 home runs
Newsflash
Near the Jewish New Year
Israel's baseball team beat South Africa
Newsflash
My late father used to speak about Sid Luckman
World Famous Football hero
News flash
Sandy Koufax (the left arm of God) is
is still alive
Newsflash
And took off on the Jewish New Year
Newsflash
Samuel Reshevsky
was U.S. Chess Champion
Ethnic pride is permissible
And there are manyy good member of the tribe
Despite having some very, very bad apples
like every other ethnic group
A little guy by baseball standards is garnering much praise
His name is Devon Travis of the Toronto Blue Jays
He's on a tear
Hits more than his share
Of doubles and homers, he continues to amaze
RICKEY HENDERSON
IS ELITE
HE DID IT ALL
ON HIS OWN TWO FEET
RICKEY'S WELL KNOWN
FOR STOLEN BASES
LEAD OFF HOMERS
AGAINST THE ACES
SILVER SLUGGER
GOLDEN GLOVE
A TALENTED ATHLETE
AND CUT ABOVE
HE HOLDS THE RECORD
FOR STOLEN BASES
ACCOMPLISHED THIS FEAT
BY VISITING PLACES
3,000 HITS
AMONG NINE DIFFERENT TEAMS
TIME RUNS PAST
OR SO IT SEEMS
RICKEY'S THE BEST
THAT'S WHAT RICKEY WOULD SAY
AS LONG AS HE DOESN'T
HAVE TO FACE RYAN TODAY
ON SECOND THOUGHT
RICKEY LOVES THE THRILL
IF HE STRIKES RICKEY OUT
RICKEY LIVES UP TO THE BILL
AUGUST, 89
ON THE 22ND DAY
RICKEY BECAME RYAN'S
5,000TH K
TO QUOTE THE ALL STAR
AND SERIES MVP
"HE GAVE ME NO CHANCE"
"HE JUST BLEW IT BY ME"
Came from Baltimore by Pigtown
Where they like to lay the law down.
He rebelled against the ground rule.
Had to grow up in reform school.
Got acquainted with a curveball
Dealing pepper by the church hall;
Broke some windows, but he left the scouts impressed.
He was an OG All Star, and a first draft Hall of Famer.
He had manners like a gomer, but he played with no disclaimer.
Pitched in Beantown, till they tossed him.
They’d regret they ever lost him.
Joined the Yankees as a slugger.
Jumped on southpaws like a mugger,
Shooting rockets past the flagpole.
Fattest wallet on the payroll.
Made a called shot, and the papers did the rest.
He went from zero to sixty lodged in Murderers’ Row,
With women, booze, and money all just part of the show.
He led the A.L. in hitting.
Chased after ta-il, no quitting.
Played ring around the bases
In a dozen pennant races.
He scored doubles at the wet bar.
Belted homers before radar,
And suffered his publicity’s intrigues.
He was an urban legend; no one ever saw him on TV.
And in the house that he built, there’s a tribute to his number three.
It was series after series.
All the bookies have their theories,
Parsing records and statistics,
Charting sinker ball ballistics,
But in the end, most everyone agrees:
He never had to play the N*gro Leagues.
Fads come and fads go
Is this pronoun thing a ho ho ho?
I am sure for some it is important and real.
Others jump on, wanting more zip and zeal.
Tik Tok and U-tube, two of today’s norms
Taking new directions, creating new forms
Will they both be passé’ in the thirties?
Names going back to Homers and Gerties?
Database and web were unknown in the eighties.
Google was not a word known to us natives.
Word processors barely peeking out.
LOL and MMAT make me want to shout!
The first computers took an entire room.
No one fathomed owning one.
Now we all talk away on Zoom.
High tech craziness. Oh what fun!
Things are moving at mega-super-speed.
People like Putin filled with incredible greed.
Sex traffickers are real and true.
I liked the old ways. How about you?
Yes, I affirm, I have seen God
But He appeared and then disappeared
This knowing that transcends mind, left me awed
But until what’s imbibed is assimilated, by fears I’m seared—Unseeking Seeker
Espied my footprints in desert sands, longing to encounter Him in the Holy lands
Vision Cinematic once upon a time suspended from Homers stauros—a sign?
Hither poet ere Christ what visions may he have come across, perchance mine?
Ever adorning this landscape eternal, reborn and risen to us in the season vernal
Cedar beam deeply implanted into arid barren beach no protectorate of Rome
Crimson robe flows about His loins as I peer down from up on high Shalom
Seashore I’ve known since childhood’s joy so rare hence my vision surfaced there
Vision Cinematic once upon a time, from above the clouds I glimpsed a slaying
Azure sky morphs bright sea breeze upon His bleached dry raven locks swaying
Perhaps the Holy Land now rendered elusive I shall grasp my vision conclusive
In conclusion equate a temporary optimistic life, possibility is where I dwell in
For fear of the Old barbate God, His hell is patient, awaiting, we who know sin
The Almighty all-knowing sees all, whilst on His thrown, Lily White glowing thru
Tell me, is the God of Old Testament different from the God of the New?
Heaven's sake, why go in reverse, for this a mythic trap, a route traverse
Wrestling with their own faith, they’re serving The Book of Skaith
Erosion of civil liberties, fueling genocide and weakening sovereignties
Dear Lord, if this is what art thou to those on the face of thy side?
Let it be I won’t reside, search then I will, new platforms where I may hide
A vision once upon a time, Cinematic of what images were to me familiar
But now the path is clearer, love’s the only answer in a world abound with failure
Baseball will be back on the scene once more
For a 162 games, I'll watch all the scores
I root for the Blue Jays
My two arms I raise
As they belt out homers, and the crowd it does roar
Walk-off homers are the thrill of the home team
They rejoice in jubilation, the whole team beams
Friends french kiss friends
Men kiss ugly men
Players touch each other in places unscene