Best Strike Out Poems
Your lover’s drawing straws without you, better bid farewell;
he’d never time for rhyme or reason, so it’s just as well.
Slip out the curtained window quick, the future winks and calls,
ignoring paths of pagan gods, where faulty footsteps fall.
Identify faint flashbacks, cloaked and clustered in a heap
and sort out those you treasure most, you need or long to keep;
Forget about the epoch past, which wasn’t what you’d sought,
pursue instead remaining dreams before they come to naught.
Reflect no more on what it was he’d meant for you,
strike out ahead where something waits, has sent for you.
The graveyard night is haunted still, it hovers where you sleep
recalling souvenirs amassed, the ones that made you weep.
The poets poised in dungeon vaults, now growing old and bald,
retrace their palsied pleas in dust, like those that you once scrawled.
Except for runic proverbs carved on stone walls ill defined,
assumptions will not dog you that you dare to leave behind.
The fortune-tellers waiting at the moat for you
read tarot cards while setting sail a boat for you.
The road behind is empty now, the sky is painted black
so gather all the wisdom gained, no time for looking back.
Forego the prophets’ prophecies, so tempting to pursue -
although they might be asked advice, they seldom have a clue.
Reject the secrets they reveal, enveloped in their guile,
which be betrayed between the tombs in ruins of their smile.
They’re waiting with a fractured rule of thumb for you
while beating on a perforated drum for you.
A sand-glass dribbles distant dunes, the sun dial’s shadow’s late,
so now’s the time for slipping through the open swinging gate.
A joker wild defies the fools to read between the lines
in search of cryptic radiance the future world enshrines -
“the days ahead will wake again like waves before the dawn
when picking up the pieces left behind a passing pawn.”
A noble knight awaits to clear the board for you
when, soon, a cup of nectar wine is poured for you.
Winter days are cold and gray while summer’s warm and bright.
Snow covered mountain tops melt away when the time is right.
Pouring rains and hurricanes will stir up now and then.
Storms appear from year to year no less than dear old friends.
Refrain:
All the good and bad and sweet and sad pass by us every one;
all the lows and highs and tear filled eyes and races still not run.
All the gentleness and sweet success and love along the way,
everything we’ve learned every twist and turn
every moment of each day.
Guitar songs and things we long for growing up too fast;
rocket dreams and what it means to let go of the past.
Picking, choosing, winning, losing, walking in the rain;
home run balls and strike-out calls are how we play the game.
Refrain:
All the good and bad and sweet and sad pass by us every one;
all the lows and highs and tear filled eyes and races still not run.
All the gentleness and sweet success and love along the way,
everything we’ve learned every twist and turn
every moment of each day.
Early morning rise and shine the sky is painted bright;
so many hues for me and you to make us feel all right.
‘Till the end of day as sunshine fades and darkness closes in;
we say our prayers to God somewhere wondering
where does this life end.
Refrain:
All the good and bad and sweet and sad pass by us every one;
all the lows and highs and tear filled eyes and races still not run.
All the gentleness and sweet success and love along the way,
everything we’ve learned every twist and turn
every moment of each day.
All the gentleness and sweet success and love along the way,
everything we’ve learned every twist and turn
every moment of each day.
Driving down a dark street,
raging havoc
on the person one seeks.
Smokin' on the Mary J.,
displays the premonitions
of one's own mission,
to strike out
with all deadly intentions.
seeing the crowd of man,
reaching for the gun
raising sand,
hearing pops,
making contact with blood
falling onto the land.
White and yellow colors outline the scene.
red and blue flashers
with badges and masters
trying to keep the scene serene.
Trippin' on the idea of blue's clues.
Reacting with the party
when your face is featured
on the 10 o'clock news.
Sitting behind bars
for being notorious.
Trippin' with the buddies
realizing your passion of acts
was not so glorious.
Standing in front of the grim reaper,
the teacher
who's words frown
one's facial features.
Sinking into tears of fears
of the reapers critique.
Hearing echoes of the judgement
the reaper speaks.
Seeing life pass you by
like a baby's lullaby.
reaching for the freedom
that one seeks
when "VIOLENE SPEAKS."
I see a darkness in my heart.
A anger that is very great.
What else of me do I have to part?
This can not be my fate.
What is child abuse?
That leaves you with so much hate.
But leaves you with a great bruise.
Even where you can not find a mate.
And leaves you with nothing but booze.
I just want to strike out.
Buddy you let me down.
I just want to scream and shout.
Buddy you left me so alone.
You said you would protect me.
But told me I left you.I truste you would be there for thee.
But you left me to flee.
And now you hate me?
Civility is a characteristic I wish to revive
Long dormant in our society, it is so rare
Since we all live together trying to survive
Let’s be nice to each other, showing we care.
I know everything is not sugar and spice
And into “every life some rain must fall,”
But, for heaven’s sake, can’t we be nice,
And get along with each other, after all.
Being polite and courteous in all we do
Not getting involved with the dross of life
Just showing kindness with a smile or two,
Helps us to avoid any pettiness and strife.
Treating others as we like to be treated
Is the Golden Rule, a foundation for civility
Some folks strike out, feeling mistreated,
But being civil is within everyone’s ability.
THIRD PLACE WINNER
Written October 18, 2022
Submitted to “This or That, Vol. 14" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Playing a man: bravado
matching can-do ego with
being strong in word and deed.
Within ... he curls up in tears.
Playing a woman: so feminine
soft hands, soft voice,
being kind and nice.
While inside ... a storm rages.
Playing grown-up
to protect and defend
their children.
But they've forgotten to play
when abused by the priest
or the cell mate,
left to live out their fate,
they pretend to forget.
But look, there, he's beating her
as she uses a frying pan to
strike out in violent forgetting
of the children within their soul.
Playing grown-ups hide
secrets as murder happens,
fires burn, suicide lives collide,
while abused children
abuse children
and no one is playing.
> >
> > A RECIPE FOR FUN
> > Author: Dennis Howe
> > February 2001
> >
> > Take ten
> > seasoned ball players and throw
> > in a large pinch of leather and aluminum.
> > Put the mix on a dirt field in the shape of a diamond
> > and add some green salad grass for color. To this, add
> > another ten seasoned ball players with a large pinch of leather
> > and aluminum. Raise the heat slowly to about 80 degrees, with a
> > few clouds for partial shade. No mud. Slight breeze, but no wind.
> > Add two pitchers of medium grit. Marinade some team spirit and
> > sportsmanship. Dice some Twinkies, sunflower seeds and chewing
> > gum. Sprinkle with water and soda pop to taste. With a white ball,
> > at game time, stir all these ingredients together with grounders,
> > foul balls, fly balls, base hits and home runs, and garnish with a
> > strike-out or two. Do not add sliding. Sugar, sweat, and verbal
> > spices can be chopped in at this point. Scoring is to taste and
> > recorded for future reference. Pour these flavored items
> > in to a large softball bowl, and then separate into
> > individual servings on Saturdays at Clark Park.
> > Finish with a handshake, pat on the
> > back, and a hearty..............
> > "see ya next week"
> >
> > The ASU Intra-University Softball League thanks "Chef" Dennis Howe for his
> > role in organizing, supporting and participating in this League since 1987.
“Life’s A Lot Like Baseball”
Life’s a lot like baseball, neither is a simple game.
Each is filled with the stuff of life.
Both, so much the same.
Complete with hard work and training, nearly every day.
In each, one learns to catch and throw;
and taking bases along the way.
Everyone is a baseball player;
whether on shortstop, in the dugout or at the pitcher’s mound.
It doesn’t really matter where we are
as long as we are team players, dedicated all around.
Sometimes we catch the balls;sometimes we may miss.
But everything’s A-OK, as long as we try again even if the crowd boos a hiss.
Every once in a while, when we're batting well,
we may even hit a desired home run.
Life seems so good; such a celebration time,
filled with much laughter and fun.
When we strike out, we need to remember…
Not all is lost; we’re still part of a great world team.
If we are down on ourselves for not playing well,
we just need to try again,
because the game is never as bad as it seems.
When we are mad or disappointed with other players,
we need to give them the benefit of the doubt.
They could be struggling with problems unseen,
and we wouldn’t want to wrongly shout, “You’re Out”!
Sometimes we might attend a game
to encourage or watch others play.
It could be family, friends or anyone,
we are there to encourage and inspire them on their way.
Yes, life is a lot like baseball;
with its seasons, players and teams ever changing, as its always been.
Remember though, we are all in this together,
to support,
to cheer,
to win!
Baseball is on my mind more,
When frigid winds freeze to the core,
Opening day,
Seems eons away,
Snow shovels strike out, wood bats score!
EFFICACIOUS ii - (“FOR ADULT CONTEST”)
Despite how difficult it is everyone has to grow up.
Embracing the world with or without an agenda,
Adulthood is such a SWOT analysis.
Strengthen to progress…
Weaken in the process…
Opportunity is a knock away.
Treat yourself with positive thinking.
Step forward with your bat.
Strike and maybe it will leave the ballpark.
If you strike out, do not fret.
Life as an adult has its disappointments.
Next step is coming up fast.
Hang tough so that you will be who laugh last.
Your strides diversify.
This is the true meaning of being an adult.
You are your own self-worth.
[End of Poem]
Philosophical Tenet:
We are our own creation!
___________________________________
Penned April 21, 2015!
I watched my son at his soccer game
Run away from the soccer ball;
I watched my son strike out four times
In his game of Little League baseball;
I watched my son at his football game
Sitting still on the end of the bench;
I watched my son dribble the ball off his foot
Helping the other team, the game to clench.
I watched my son at the holiday chorus
Never move his lips when the class did sing;
I watched my son at the school assembly
Not get an award for anything;
I watched my son at the science fair
Display a project that came out wrong;
I watched my son at his piano recital
Play a totally unrecognizable song.
I wake up every morning and thank the Lord
For making me such a proud Pop;
That boy of mine, wouldn’t you know,
Is a regular chip off the old man’s block.
Focus means everything!!!
Effort. Courage.
In times of our lives we strike out,
But it's a team sport.
Think about when you hit that home run!!
It really doesn't matter who was there and who was not.
Who applauded and who did not.
Moments are all we have...
Love and the fight for survival continues on....
She threw me the hurtful look, that bleeding-inside feeling
Fell upon me and the whip lashed well
Across those deep soft parts
That quiver within and dare not show themselves.
I nearly snarled, the need to cool pain by transfer was great,
But then the blackness of the moment
Blinded my soul and filled it with Sad,
Whatever inward strength I had deserted me.
Love, replete with sins of omission,
Keeps count of subtle slights
Stores them in its pantry of poisons
Ready to pour into one another's wounds when wretchedness
Brings the bonding close and sharp.
All the love in the sun is good
Where we want to always be, though we cannot,
For life will not permit this.
The sun casts shadows that follow behind us and threaten;
Better to stand in pairs and face them
To suffer together and learn
Learn to take it all as it comes at us, feel through all the abuse
And grope beyond
To where control depends on us alone
To where no games are played
To where the truth is told plainly, face to face,
To where we love and afflict one another because it is so empty and fearsome
To be alone.
Together we are more than one, less than two, stronger than all.
Lash went the whip and the pain burnt clear
Why such a ritual must be followed is not for reason to sort out
For the Fates have tied our lives together and we must walk as one
With the heart of each in the other's hand,
Knowing love to be a thing of fear, anger and confusion
Quite thoroughly mixed with joy.
So strike out and savor the hurt that flows in the bad times,
That it may teach us what we need to know about the good times,
For those good times tell us what we need to know about ourselves.
My love for you is too great to be put off by pain.
Come along my dear, let's step back into our private world,
Ready to go at it again.
BASEBALL IS ENTERTAINMENT
I LOVE PUTTING ON A SHOW
I GIVE IT MY BEST WIND-UP
LET THAT BASEBALL GO
SOMETHING ABOUT A STRIKE-OUT
A FEELING THAT THINGS WENT WELL
UNLIKE THE HOMERUN PITCH
WHERE IT FEELS THEY RANG MY BELL
I CONSIDER IT A CHALLENGE
TO FACE THE BIGGEST NAMES IN THE GAME
I BUILT THAT REPUTATION
I HOPE THEY FEEL THE SAME
I KNOW I GET A LITTLE WILD
BUT, I'VE BEEN WORKING ON CONTROL
NO INTENTION TO BREAK AN ARM
JUST TO LET YOU KNOW
IT'S LIKE ONE ON ONE
SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT
BUT IF YOU TRY TO BUNT ON ME
I'LL NAIL YOU ON THE SPOT
YES I HAVE A FASTBALL
NINETY-FIVE AND UP
I KNOW YOU KNOW IT'S COMING
SO GIVE IT YOUR BEST CUT
I'VE BEEN WORKING ON MY CURVEBALL
IT MIGHT JUST BACK YOU DOWN
CONSIDER IT A CHALLENGE
TRY TAKE THAT PITCH DOWN TOWN
I LOVE MY JOB OUT ON THE MOUND
I LOVE THE GAME OF BASEBALL
I LOVE WHEN THE BATTER AT THE PLATE
CAN'T HIT MY BLAZING FASTBALL
I LOVE THE PLAYERS ON MY TEAM
WHO LOVE THE GAME OF BASEBALL
IT'S A THRILL WHEN BATTERS TAKE MY CHALLENGE
AND CAN'T STICK MY NASTY CURVEBALL
THEY SAY YOU ARE THE K-KING
I DON'T BELIEVE A WORD
SOMEONE SAID YOUR FASTBALL
WAS THE BEST HE EVER HEARD
THEY SAY YOU HAVE A FASTBALL
THE FASTEST OF THEM ALL
SHOW ME YOUR BEST FASTBALL
I'LL DRIVE IT OFF THE WALL
THEY SAY YOU HAVE A NASTY CURVE
ENOUGH TO BACK'EM DOWN
SHOW ME YOUR BEST NASTY CURVE
I'LL TAKE THAT PITCH DOWN-TOWN
THEY SAY YOU HAVE A CHANGE-UP
THAT LEAVES THEM WAY OUT FRONT
SHOW ME YOUR BEST CHANGE-UP
I'LL TEACH YOU HOW TO BUNT
THEN I STEPPED UP TO THE PLATE
I HEARD THE UMP CALL STRIKE
I DUG IN JUST A LITTLE MORE
THAT CURVEBALL TOOK A BITE
I WAITED ON THAT CHANGE-UP
YET SURE ENOUGH THEY'RE RIGHT
I TURNED AROUND TO FACE THE UMP
HE JUST SMILED AND SAID GOOD NITE
I BELIEVE YOU ARE THE K-KING
YOU'RE THE BEST I'VE EVER SEEN
YOU DESERVE TO BE BASEBALL'S
ALL-TIME STRIKE OUT KING
Michael E. Harris