In its special serpentine style too deep to fathom
while submersed beneath I was surprised to see
the world's second most venomous reptile
a striped Dubois' sea snake swim by me
when forewarned of dangers quirky lurking in the deep
altho' arriving suitably attired with fins mask and snorkel
it was sufficient to almost scare me out of my diving skin
so severe as to make my heart skip flip or turn turtle
but being bold brave of heart and fleet of flippered-foot
swiftly did I surely doggy-paddle safely away
tho' no harm was done to me a close call or so it seemed to be
which I survived to recount alive here on this another day
The Beauty Of Baseball Poetry Contest
Matt Caliri
A supposedly wide-open, empty street
A rubber ball, a plastic bat, and a real game.
Kids playing to the baseball beat
The diamond asphalt is just the same.
Lines are drawn, and teams are picked.
The pickup games are for bragging rights
Where emotions are high, and egos are nicked.
Some kids haven't reached their grown heights.
The bigger ones hit the longer ball
The little tots hit short liners that hit parked cars.
Homers hit homers over the wall
A neighbor’s house is seeing stars.
Foul balls find a garden bed
Where a stampede of kids thrashes the roses.
A homeowner is cussing and seeing red.
Today's game comes to an end and forecloses.
Tomorrow’s stars have a dream
To play on the big stage.
Where it all started with the pickup teams
On the streets and to the homeowner’s rage.
Baseball is America’s pastime.
Hot dogs, sunflower seeds, and lemonade fill the plate.
There is a passion and a youthful chime
And these kids arrived early and don’t want to be late.
little league grimace
coach keeps his eye on the bat
resetting the tee
'All work and no play
may make a dullard out of Jack'
or so someone
was heard to crack
but all talk an no work
will not get the job done
yet world leaders fly round the globe
to discuss the environment
but forget their carbon footprints
and simply write it off
as merely entertainment
such discussions could be held
via the Internet web of intrigue
why they won't is beyond my ken
altho' I pay their way
they must be out of my league
'Every man for himself'
is more than a selfish diatribe
but 'One for all and all for one'
thanks to Mr. Dumas
(1802 – 1870)
is a phrase to which I can subscribe
My doctor warned me not to fall.
Should I give up on big league ball?
Fingertips etched and wrapped,
white knuckled, yet steadfast -
the journey never finished because
...there is no destination
except the next brick or perhaps
EGO?
What then, when there are no more
"electives"?
"Alexander wept, because there were
no more worlds to conquer".
So thus, the tendrils, naked and burdened,
circle back,
their vines and blossoms celebrated,
while the sacrificed - those who cling and die
go unnoticed...
Grand Puuuuba of the Wizards League
With his ebony cape, often did intrigue
He wore a charm that brought in good
Strange the cat was stiff like wood
He arched his back and felines sighed
Cross eyes for sure! A troll-monger cried.
I was terrified of the Grand Puuuuba
His ambiance was scary, his temper raw.
Other feline groupies followed him from town to town.
Many were easier than paper towels, one was a clown.
But Grand Puuuuba only had crossed eyes for me.
Halloween was the night for me to flee.
Covered deep in
Poison Ivy
A rash that spreads
and burns
Its toxic mass
left festering
With younger minds
to churn
What used to be
a noble cause
Malingers
in disease
Whose vines grow wild
to trap the dark …
That once were climbed
—to free
(The New Room: December, 2023)
Small stadium built in the late forties,
minor-league once, but has been left behind,
built with girders and backless, wooden seats,
a local relic of an older time.
The players look so young, barely can shave,
the pitching is rough and some balls are dropped,
a few have been drafted by big league names,
one has promise, at ninety-four was clocked.
Young kids run around, and between innings
some do wacky races upon the field,
but have fun even if they’re not ‘winning,’
and the high-fives from the players are real.
So far not a hit has yet cleared the wall,
but six bucks is still good for live baseball.
The patrons in the glory
with such nobel
esteem
gather as one
to form a great noble team
the make rules ofr the sports
the structures of the games
the dived to be officated
in these nobel bouts
The New Borough's
one team call's it self
the Other uses the Moniker
Of Madawaska to
decribe themselves
We together are holiest
no one is good
without us
each and every glory
Adhere to such beliefs
the patrons of our bouts
respect such belief's
the gather in spectacle
speak of who won
or beat
Ruh-Ruh the chants
the story the fans tell
oh ye oh nobel
patrons oh
then due tell
each challenge
and each obstacle
the officated game
cheerest the patron's
no one bout the same
oh ye that cheerest
oh ye that cheer
Saint Sabastian the Patron Saint of Wrestling
"bless ye in endurance"
the emblem on the trophy read.
class act
one hard to follow
more intriguing then
ah-bore
he thinks of all involved
when he performs
seen and unseen
his works are a class act
a showcase of talent
and sheer ability
it wouldn't suprise me if
millions of people would
support his effords of
acheiving his goals
the right guidance
and the right
people around him
will help him
in his success
his failures might
not be as long as his runs
if he's lucky
it wouldn't hurt to have the
right corner man
and the
right trainers
to keep him focused
and someone to
get him seen as
a contender
and maybe even a champion
His Cucoloris is made
from his own works
lets see what he can do with it
The Average Quarter's announce team queued in on
Champion Royal's debut! With B$ basso intro's
provided by IntroMedia
The Class Act in precision music!
A drowsiness that borders on fatigue:
some say I’m spending too much time at sea.
My boat’s a rail and seat and little more;
nineteen inch stick and web strap for an oar.
Engaging workout always buoy me;
I might as well get in another league!
----------
A Scupham stanza: 6 lines, isosyllabic, abccba rhyme scheme
Junior league
Army fatique
Build a store
Go to war
Make a collection
Get an infection
Put on airs
In cross hairs
Safe and sound
Boots on the ground
Price some clothes
Urine glows
Comfort zone
Combat zone
Get a bank loan
Airplane flown
Junior League
Army fatigue
Build a store
Go to war
Moses Fleetwood
Him and his brother first African American
To play in Major League Baseball
Rejected by the white citizens and players
Wanted to play continual for the Majors
Left and played for the minor leagues
Opened later an Opera House and started a newspaper
Moses Fleetwood Walker headstone on his grave read
“First Black Major League Baseball player in U.S.A.
Walker
6/15/2022
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2022
Peter went to an Ivy League school
Now he writes on walls in latin so cool
Pete gets an A+
Not causing no fuss
No fuss no cussing just writing jewels
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