Best Stadiums Poems
Fanatics in Talibama
stadiums of bigoted extravaganza
hopefully supporters one day held to account
for abusing children in the name
of evangelical doctrine
He assassinates foreign officials
as terrorists like to do
he supplies Saudi Arapia
so they can kill more children than you
he loves his small fingers and his walls
He runs his concentration camps
he stops the needy from eating food stamps
socialism is all so very bad
unless is to help the richly glad
or paying hookers for the peeing mad hatter
Many cronies gone to jail
he will sell out his family
never mind sell-out the USA and democracy
he's Putin's batch and that's a fact
for years washing money for those Russian rats
He downed a plane for his re election
he said Obama would do the same
however Obama it seems was not insane
Trump committed crimes against humanity
time for him to face the wall
Of justice
2/8/17
Straight, curvy and bumpy roads
Some with cones
All across the globe
Tools made of stones and from bones
Got to stay in the zone
Wherever I may roam and rove
Certain boards bowed
And automobiles had to be towed
Money being owed
And loaned
Waters with or without foam
And lawns that do or don't have gnomes
Regardless of if the grass was or wasn't mowed
Above and below
Where waters flow
By way of the crow
Or as it was written in an ancient tome
In areas with buffalo
Troves hidden in coves
And groves
And other places unknown
Every since way long ago
Time has shown
Tasks done alone
And on one's own
Experiments involving clones
And surveillance done with drones
Faraway and nearby home
And any other abode
Hung up the phone
If it wasn't about money, then quickly came the dialtone
Due to the weather events getting postponed
Skills and wisdom are important to hone
Whether you're full of estrogen or testosterone
Coagulated blood was found on a robe
While it snowed
The full moon glowed
Near the motherlode
Located at a node
Time seemingly sped up or slowed
Objects getting thrown away and sewed
Meanwhile the population continued to explode
In and out of areas that did or didn't errode
Old and new episodes
Information and emergency calls being radioed
Items made with many materials, sometimes chrome
Or silicone
Stadiums with or without a dome
Capable of being able to fully close
Within and beyond areas that have or haven't been combed
Better stay on your toes
Continuing to row
As the wind does or doesn't blow
Effects ripple and domino
Despite if you have or haven't chose
Because that's how life goes
Stay sharp and composed
By: Dalton Ogletree
There's a tiny monster gliding in the air
Whoever you are, it shows no spare
Swiftly quaffing the earth's unstained blood,
it resolved to bury a raft of bodies under the pleading mud.
Missiles are aimed at an eclipsed enemy
Trying to discover home in this endless journey
Warriors are rifled with
rigour
Not caring for a cut or a blister.
School drums went dumb
Town fairs said no welcome
Smiles and lives are masked
Tears and fears are hiked.
A son was buried while his mother quarantined
A husband died miles away leaving his wife estranged
The empty stadiums engulfed the players' sky-high spirits
Innocent lives are turning to dust every few minutes.
It's transient my child! It's all transient.
Short-lived are these strong winds
Ephemeral are these hot waves
Cry not in the dark night
Smiles re-bloom upon winning this fight.
Every bud blooms after the rain as a norm
It's time to be an eagle and rise above the storm
Fields of stars blanket warm summer skies
Songs of crickets and cicadas overwhelm the senses
In reply, fireflies dot the lawn
Full of dandelions and buttercups waiting for dawn
Far away flashes of summer heat strike with no sound
Showing distant lands and tops of massive thunderclouds
Soft shadows decorate the walls
upon silent ears quiet murmurings fall
a transistor radio blares its tiny sound
of ballgames in concrete stadiums ,
bright lights and a pitchers mound
Overhead fans stir dark sleepy rooms
Screened in porches give way to fleeting cool breezes
Heavy lids with dreams in flight
Soften those warm summer nights
As I lie in this box all dirty and scuffed
I remember the time I was shiny and fluffed
Alone and forgotten I doubt that is true
For I was once savored in red white and blue
Although it may seem it was a long time ago
I once flew through the air in many a show
I was waved at through crowds as I proudly appeared
So high I did blow and to many was feared
There's no need to worry I'll be back once again
I dislike this box and I do miss the wind
Why must I wait until the fourth of July
For I am grand it's my duty to fly
Until then I will stay my memories in bloom
Maybe the maid will free me when she tidies the room
It's true that she likes me she flew me last spring
Some sort of occasion a Memorial thing
This can't be my destiny for I stand for the truth
I'm not just a toy what's wrong with our youth
I hear them play music of hate and it hurts
I am used to large stadiums and enormous concerts
How I long for the trumpet a victorious sound
Still I'm here when you're ready not lost nor found
Silent grass clippers
Why must lawn movers make such a noise?
Why do people with a garden seek to make an outdoor carpet?
Why people seek to make lawns look like an arrested childhood?
We can understand football stadiums, the ball runs faster
and the players do not stub their delicate feet on mature grass.
One day grass will give up growing turn into sand pits a place
For children to build sandcastles.
as big signs telling us not to walk on the grass?
This is not nature but humans trying to tame the natural world.
Pete Rose and Shoeless Joe Jackson are gone
Major League Baseball locked the door with them
now with PEDs ban should be withdrawn
today’s drug use has darken baseball’s gem
in the early days baseball was strong and pure
except for being only for white men
maybe Ty Cobb was a bit immature
that was the way the game was played back then
baseball is a product of the USA
and Major league baseball is politics
it was a great game to watch and to play
and those stadiums were truly classics
Wade Boggs is the owner of Field of Dreams
baseball won’t flow away in any streams
Looking out upon my garden on spring morning
dew on grass, new shoots appearing natures best
daffodils, tulips, primrose, beautiful new life dawning
pollinators emerge collecting pollen after winter rest
evergreens coordinate with shade loving flowers
finding shelter in herbaceous borders, glorious
thoughts, aromas, wildlife reproducing new life
shafts of light creating shadows, expecting showers
seasons of change, pleasant celestial rays notorious
for encouraging wonderful blooms and loosestrife,
my old garden swing so inviting, comfortable perch
to rest my weary bones upon while my eyes delight
at natures wonders, shaded by my giant silver birch
potted Japanese acer so elegant sweetness and light
return of perennials as Mother Earth becomes warmer
sweet smelling Lavender, colourful penstemon,
sun loving helenium, gorgeous variegated geraniums
bursting into life invigorating garden transformer
rainbows of colour from blues yellows to salmon
old English roses perfume able to fill stadiums
so joyful now my garden is in bloom colourful and bright
with aromas from honeysuckle and Jasmine at night.
Composed on 02/04/2017.
Contest ode to flowers.
The bustle and tune of city,
Is composed by the Architects.
Eyes upward, not staring at feet,
Take in cornices, gargoyles and chimneys,
Building high notes reaching down - lifting up.
Harmonies are hummed by neighborhoods of,
Next-door musicians with whom to shoot-breeze.
Rhythm’s source is traffic of crowds,
A quarter rest on the park bench,
Crescendos in fountains and skylines,
Chords lie in store as markets implore,
Side trip timing from Clef library-museums,
Playgrounds emanate the jazz of joy,
In stadiums you hear Souza marches,
Love songs played in coffee houses,
Where I’m drinking cappuccino,
As my eyes listen and ears observe.
(c) Chaim Wilson
During the time before television came to our home, My dad sat there in his car on many a dark Southern night. And I was somewhere close by, enjoying a wonderful
game of Major League Baseball on the radio.
O, there were several teams in the majors like The Pirates,
The White Socks and The Red Socks were popular
teams. But in my town in Northern Mississippi, baseball was all about the Cardinals, the Dodgers, and the Yankees.
There were many sights and sounds of baseball beaming from radios and television sets. I must say that I mean no disrespect to other good and decent sportscasters,
but Harry Carry and Pee Wee Reese made us feel like we
were there in the stands.
My dad had lots of friends, but two were rivals in the game.
There was his friend, the Yankee man name Mr. Baines;
And then, Mr. Mon, his other friend, was a Dodger fan.
But my dad’s heart was in St. Louis with Stan the Man.
In the memory of my mind, I can hear those games now on the radio.
Those nights were dark and hot, but the baseball captured and calmed me.
Reading newspapers and enjoying a baseball game on the radio were two
things my dad and I shared together. But also, later on, we obtained a television. With the snapshots tucked away in the frames of my mind, after 50-plus years, I can still see the Baseball Game of the Week.
I'm rather certain that neither my dad nor his two friends ever graced the stadiums of their teams. I'm proud to say that it was through them that I developed a deep love for the game. So, in a way, when I saw two games at Wrigley Field in Chicago, they were there also; or when I enjoyed two games of the Giants at Candlestick Park in San Francisco, they sat right next to me.
They say that baseball is America’s great past time experience;
but for me, baseball was always about ‘now and then’, ‘today, and
‘tomorrow’ too. It was about a little country boy fantasizing
and dreaming today about what could be tomorrow.
Written 042010; Entry122422PS Contest, Matt Caliri, Poetry in Motion
The National Pastime, Phillip Garcia
also: (Screwed XV11 Contest, Rod Carmack; 10th Pl)
Years gone by I photographed
The sun rise and set, capturing
Kaleidoscopic colors cascading
Dawn to dusk across the untouchable touch
Of God’s unfathomably deep skies.
Overlooking cathedral towers and
Ancient battle fields where blood flowed warm and red;
Church steeples standing sentinel over cemeteries
Of the long ago lovely, now dreaming and drifting past
Stadiums over-filled with laughing, languishing, living dead sentient beings;
Museums, libraries and roads connecting and converging
Past, present, future and all points infinitely between.
In my mind I photographed these.
But now I sit devoid of film,
No camera lens to capture stills
Other than this life I’ve led
Step by step inside my head from
Life to life and death to death,
Ever so thankful for every flower, seed, smile
And whisper of gentle wind upon my face.
Step by timeless step, inching towards the inevitable rendezvous
Of who I really am, knowing
Somewhere between the light of day and dark of night
I’m bound
To end up where I began: With ONE
Eternal Photograph in Hand.
Introverted
Christian, puzzle-solving, athletic, musician
Who loves his bride, his children, his lineage.
I think love is the key to most locks, joy is attainable, peace is achievable.
I feel blessed to be alive, lucky to be in love, amazed by warmth of friendship.
I fear being trapped, being paralyzed, being insignificant.
I would like to see Paris art museums and 30 MLB stadiums. And grandchildren!
I am a California resident; home of Yosemite, Disneyland, Golden Gate bridge.
Encourager
As I look outside I see,
the setting sun behind the trees
This summer day is ending now
The season too will soon be gone.
Summer days again have passed
But the memories will last
Until again the solstice comes
And brings with it the summer sun.
Till then we can but look back upon
The great times under that sun
Swimming, boating picnics too
baseball, burgers and hot dogs too
The boys of summer are going home
The stadiums seem all alone
No more swimming at the lake
Lifeguards get to take a break
No more volleyball at the beach
chasing volleys out of reach.
Sand castles have been blown down
no footprints in the sand are found
Ice cream stands have been shut down
not a single cone to be found.
Carnivals once open nightly
All their lights shining brightly
They too have gone out of sight
leaving just a cold dark night
The scent of popcorn wafts in the air
Not a kernel hiding anywhere.
Yes summer it is surely gone
On comes Autumn full and strong
Leaves are turning on the trees
Till they fall and are knee deep.
Followed up with winter's fury
Snowy days and backs are hurting
icy build ups everywhere
Santa's visit coming near
Makes me long for warmer days
basking in those sunlit rays.
So I will sleep ... no hibernate
See you at the end of May!
They stood on highly placed podiums
In densely packed stadiums
Making promises, unwitting and false
And now we wait as time slowly crawls
Now we see
The so called promise of a fatherland
Smeared with cruelty and blood stained sand
Treachery and fear of the dreaded boko haram
Bringing tragedy, pandemonium and widespread alarm
Tainting a religion of peace. Noble Islam
Fanaticism some say; but terror is their way
Now we hear
The blood curdling screams
As we awaken from terror filled dreams
Outcries of electoral rigging
From supressed political teams
Woeful tales in news broadcast
And we wonder, how long these will last
But now we know better
Than to hear their sugar coated words
Or to see their finely painted worlds
Yes; now we know better
Do not panic about Third World War
Saying it is somewhere brewing anger
What you see as symptoms are fake
Because the real thing has been foiled
Third World war is being fought daily
In football stadiums of the playful world
These battle-fields of war without war
Has magic immunity against bloody war
Youth are suffering soccer megalomania
Super powers are sick with nuclear fever
Veterans of the super wars are idle ghosts
God of wars have migrated to other planets
Now that Third World War has been foiled
Better sit down and watch soccer battles