Written April 14, 2017
It's easy to fall in love
Even easier to break apart
I've been trying for six long years
To mend this broken heart
You used to talk to me so sweet
My biggest fan in the bleacher seats
From the rose bush to the baseball bat
Why'd you have to go and be like that
Why don't you just be like John Wayne
Why'd you go and have to die
Why don't you just be like John Wayne
Even he cried sometimes
Life never looked so bleak
Than the day you left me
It's easy to forgive sometimes
But this ain't one of those times
Sticks and stones may break my bones
Glass houses are all I've known
From the salt shaker to the baseball bat
Why'd you have to go and be like that
Why don't you just be like John Wayne
Why'd you go and have to die
Why don't you just be like John Wayne
Even he cried sometimes
Categories:
bleacher, death, family, grandfather, grief,
Form: Lyric
Round Mudville Market, foul air was omnipresent
butchers rent fowls’ necks to make tenant's rent,
the scene that was seen was most unpleasant.
As sunset fell, we watched through evening light,
as Casey mighty Casey held his stout bat tight
while striving poet searches to right words write.
Seems a southpaw would tear up bravado's montage
Casey’s legend scorched by unknown pitcher’s flamage
and tears like diamonds sluice down his visage
As darkness gathers, a lone bat flits round diamond site
with Casey wiff, the bleacher rift, for sure a sorry sight
as we quaff stout, raise glasses high, E. Thayer's tale recite.
Categories:
bleacher, baseball, tribute,
Form: Rhyme
When the world was small
my heroes were big
living on a 12’’ screen
the telephone operator knew me by name
when the party line was open and free
on Tuesdays it was the bread man
on Wednesdays came meat
Friday mornings the Fuller Brush man rang twice
Saturdays were baseball, bleacher seats for a buck
and on Sunday to church on my bike
when on Monday the Nun asked where the black eye was from
I smiled and said “ran into a door”
while all the while knowing this was the time of my life
—a time when the world was so small
(Conshohocken Pennsylvania: March, 2021)
Categories:
bleacher, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme
Why is Catrina so fake?
She is like a snake.
She attracts all men,
Especially ken.
Why is Catrina made of plastic?
Her personality isn’t fantastic.
She has more than one friend,
But by next year, it will end.
Why is Catrina so mean?
She always cause a scene.
She is like a doll
That has no life at all.
Why is Catrina a brat?
She once dated a frat.
She also kissed a teacher;
I heard that it happened under the bleacher.
Why does Catrina Lie?
Is it because she will die?
Everyone hates that she is fake;
She is gonna drown in the lake.
Why did Catrina go in the park?
Maybe it’s because ken told her to come in the dark.
Since her life was so plastic,
Her death was a classic.
Categories:
bleacher, death of a friend,
Form: Couplet
I dreamt I said, ‘Hullo, Fellow’ on her pink plumage pillow
When from my blue sky grew and flew a sentimental swallow
That told me to fold my arms and grow calm because it didn’t matter anymore
As the etiquette of entire episode chose to metamorphose into a sappy snore.
I dreamt life no longer brought, caught or taught strident strife
When for the umpteenth time a series of memories drew me to my lost life
Taken away from my puny pay on a gray Wintry Wednesday
Leaving my heart bleeding, begging and weeping every day.
I dreamt I lost my post as teacher to become a preacher
When a sermon I delivered reminded me I wasn’t a true blue bleacher
Who in the twinkling of an eye could turn ebony black into snow white
Praying hard for God to restore a sinner’s succor and salvation right.
I dreamt sanity and vanity from my mind vowed to quit
When by force of booze I succeeded in losing my wit
Indulging instead the bedstead of lampoon language
That infiltrated and integrated every fabric of my every message.
Categories:
bleacher, poems,
Form: Free verse
THE VOLLEYBALL GAME
feet on plastic,
bleacher c r a c k s.
s
m l
r l
a p a
w u b
juggle in air
w a l l o f s p e c t a t o r s
feet withdraw
fingers raking hair
S C O R E
8/15/2017
Categories:
bleacher, sports,
Form: Free verse
It’s a constant reminder
I’m giving my days
We cook up our meals
Forgetting who pays
Walk in the yard
Or to sit on the bleacher
Reading a good book
Or hearing a teacher
We all spend our days
In different ways
Honest in prayer
Treat each day like air
Categories:
bleacher, adventure, america,
Form: Free verse
Out to the bleacher
We were drawn
By sun burning down,
Melting stubborn
White snow mounds,
While the girls
Still with wintry-pale legs
Trotted the bases
Or lowered to grateful grass
In the broad outfield
And stretched calves out
With spread lean thighs
We somehow knew
Would one day open
That way for love,
So we bee-essed
About doing it,
How much, which one,
Braggadocious banter
Of the uninitiated;
And some cute face
Buried in the shade
Of her batting helmet
From time to time
Would smile through
Wire backstop diamonds
At us, bat shouldered
And gold block letters
Denoting “West High”
Adhering to the contours
Of her nascent bust
While darkness stained
Cloth at shaved armpit
And atop pert fanny;
Maybe, we hoped,
One or a few
Would mount the ladder
Of wooden bleacher
Up to us after practice
And offer thanks that we
Shagged foul balls
By letting us inhale
That perfume-sweat-red clay melange
Only a girl can attain,
Fragrance that lingered with a guy
Late at night
In a desolate bed
During the sublime chaos
Of his spring of life.
Categories:
bleacher, desire, growing up, spring,
Form: Free verse
A Chicago Cubs-Fan Prayer Answered!
In nomine patri et fili spiritu of Ron Santo!
Let us all give thanks for Ernie Banks!
Let us play........, two!
Our Father, who art in Wrigley Field
Hallowed be thy ivy covered Brickhouse walls!
Thy new stadium will come, the owners will be done
On Clark and Addison, as it is, to sit in the sun with thy bleacher-bums!
Give us this day our daily dread but remove those lights that so offend!
Forgive us our trespasses and Cubs left on bases, as we forgive those
Teams who trespass these hallowed places!
Caray us on and win the pennant race, all’s we’re ask ‘in for Lord,
Is a couple a more runs!
Most of us can't afford a dog or beer in here, but a least da cops is really
Nice around here!
Lead us not into temptation and deliver us to a World Series, while were still young!
So grab a beer and join the cheer, cause we ain't leav'in Wrigley
Till "Yogi" say's it's over in here!
AMEN!
Categories:
bleacher, baseball, celebration, dedication, inspiration,
Form: Free verse
I see the world...it passes by,
I sit and watch...and start to cry.
I feel I'm in a bleacher seat,
no longer with you do I compete.
I use to smile and laugh, and sing,
now I stare...my ears still ring.
My thoughts they wander here...than there,
I wonder if you even care?
That I feel confused and often dazed,
my memory sits in clouded haze.
I sit and stare into your face,
I feel like I'm in outer space.
P.R.Deremer
Categories:
bleacher, confusion, feelings,
Form: I do not know?
A Chicago Cubs-Fan Prayer!
In nomine patri et fili spiritu of Ron Santo
Let us all give thanks for Ernie Banks
Let us play!
Our Father, who art in Wrigley Field
Hallowed be thy ivy covered Brick-house walls
Thy new stadium will come, the owners will be done
On the mound, sit ‘in with the bleacher-bums or your rich roof-top owner friends
Give us this day our daily dread but remove those lights that so offend
Forgive us our trespasses and cubs left on bases
As we forgive those teams who trespass those places
And Caray us on and win the pennant races
All’s we’re ask ‘in for Lord, is a couple a runs
Then deliver us a world series, before God loses HIS patience
Amen!
Categories:
bleacher, baseball, business, devotion, dream,
Form: I do not know?
The space between what could have been
And the place he is living now.
Started out as a tiny path
Became a major road somehow.
At seventeen the dream was real
There was a contract in the cards
Quarterback of the football team
Who had thrown one thousand yards
But on that fateful Friday night
A hit that was unexpected
Dislodged his lethal throwing arm
The scholarship was rejected.
He is now a bleacher creature
A big fan of the local team
But with every passing touchdown
He imagines what might have been.
Categories:
bleacher, dream, emotions,
Form: Couplet
There once was an old lady from Maine.
Born in Virgo, a critic, quite plain,
her zest for punctuation
caused poetic frustration,
but they cared for her all of the same.
While writing one day this fine teacher
met her match a right handsome preacher
he dissected her acts
found her lacking in tact
and schooled her behind the wood bleacher!
Categories:
bleacher, funny,
Form: Limerick
The smell of hot dogs, fresh grass, and stale beer
A constant dull drone from the Bleacher Bums
“Take Me out to the Ball Game”, sung aloud
Infield raking dust, by busy grounds crews
Seventh inning stretch at old Wrigley Field
Ivy covered walls, with a losing streak
Uniforms with faces of baby bears
The rival redbirds are taking the field
Cub fans begin to return to their seats
Fresh from a line to relief and last call
A solid round of boos from the bleachers
The batter warms in the on deck circle
At times, there is no better place to be
Chicago on a hot sunny day, free
© Copyrights G. Jones, 2008
Categories:
bleacher, life,
Form: Free verse
Bleacher madness
Heaven wake stairs
Blinding lights
Naked skies,
Rectangular green
Wild aroma
Rolling leather
Deep pride.
Unstoppable
Heart beat
Unbeatable
Pride,
Immortal scream
Young child
Aged man
Dream team.
Categories:
bleacher, sports,
Form: Free verse
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