Long At bat Poems
Long At bat Poems. Below are the most popular long At bat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long At bat poems by poem length and keyword.
Silhouettes know they’re loved, day and mostly nights;
When my ball sails the fence, I fetch—two blocks down
And when the dog walks the cat—dragged when she bites,
While ticketed, my name changed to a pronoun,
Love baseball, yet my golf ball, they can’t catch mines,
I’m in shorts and shirttails, she’s dressed to the nines,
She’s in the clubhouse, and I’m in the golf cart,
Begs I, she came; she’s there, I’m here, being smart.
Not a clock watcher, though, I’m told, “You’re still here?”
The wage is great, yet labor can be taxing
Staffed, forty years; polite—but can be austere
Wrote up some, watching union ranks relaxing
I hate writing up folks, or being strict, ugh!
Some tact, less frank, gets smiles, or a shoulder shrug
Double-shift, no-takers, no clock—“What’s with that?”
Worst, are those days, straight two days, I'm left at bat!
This is for all the forgets that you found. The not coming back but are always around. The next step at losing a back for the frame. Lost in a lesson like “remember my name”. This is an always with a door next to there. A face in a crowd yet a fact of so rare. The never, the notion, the nearer by far. The lesson, the blessing is easy, like a seatbelt for your car. With an over and under in a trip down a lane. The “how to” and “whys” for a second the same. So forget all the figures in a withdraw like a loan. The found is around near in never alone. The detail, the retails are not a sell for a dash. The stars not three bars like a win for the cash. So like all the teachers there’s a reach for a test. The AB plus C in a make for the best. This is an always with the end like in near. With remember my name for a dart-like in dear. This is for the all your if’s with regrets. With better at bat and a base on a yet. So recall the snowfalls with the tracks of your tears. They’ll keep coming back if you never get clear.
Why do people, want to cause
Other people pain
Where is the Love
That will break the chain
Someone says something
Then it's tit-for-tat
I've played this before
We all know the score
Now who's up at bat
I think it's time, for us to play
The self healing game
Before there's no one, left
Around to blame
One that's more thoughtful
And much less insane
Let's reach for the Sun
And help everyone
Come out of the rain
All we have, is this fleeting chance
To get this right
No time for jealousies
No time to fight
Don't say, that you're sorry
Don't seek to forgive
Just start here today
And throw it away
And learn how to live
When I ask of you of the and when you don't comply for me;
if you won't do cuz I will be given;
and if not from you there are 20 others who will be;
it's not just about you for you see I will survive;
I will get and not be denied ;
for when you won't comply there are at least 21 others to 40 who will serve "I"
when I ask of you and you don't comply;
you're not the only fork in the drawer;
when I asked of you;
and you don't respond through;
our minimum least 21 of others;
I ask yet I need, but I don't need you brother;
So don't get it totally twisted;
I need not your assistant;
as a matter of fact it's not baseball with a ball and bat;
and you're not at bat three strikes you're out;
so when I ask of you and you don't present;
you're the truth it's okay;
someone else will be at bay;
11/18/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
There is this space called my Poem Place,
Each morning I rush to settle in.
My standard routine, warmed by caffeine
gets in gear once I pick up my pen.
Picking up my pen means I begin
with my computer and my notebook.
Microsoft Word and Rhyme Zone ready,
I open Farlex Free and One Look.
Now all I need are "thoughts" to proceed.
I click the icon, Poetry Soup,
Forms are the tool that makes my pen drool
And blogs spark my mind to regroup.
Reading is spice, but what's really nice
is when ideas flow through my brain.
If I come up short, my next resort,
Members' contests, my mental food chain.
Myriad prompts serve my pen with verve.
Once I bookmark the ones that appeal,
my turn at bat; I choose God's format
to see what rhyme and Reason reveal.
written 12-28-2014 with revisions 1/18/17
Sponsor Beata Agustin
Contest Name POEM ON POETRY MUSE
Hark, hark! The shark!
I think that I shall never pee
Into something nasty as puree...
Quoth the raven, "What the heck for?"
Twas brillig in her sleazy toes
Mumby gyros grown through her nose...
The game came down to this or that
When Mighty Casey threw up at bat
The fault, dear Blutarski, lies not in our cars
But in us, that we are---SMASH! CRASH!---seeing stars
Coo coo, cachoo, Mrs. Robinson
Your priest loves you more than you will know (Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!)
Mary had a little brown camel
Whose hump her dentist had made of enamel
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
Jack drown in some political slick
Fi, fie, fo, fum, I smell the stench
Of another Presidential run...
And Snow White fell in love, parried
And slapped happily ever after!
That's all, Folks!
(Looney-Tunes)
He began his career playing T-ball along about the age of eight,
Never dreaming that becoming a professional was to be his fate!
Right off the bat (so to speak!) he was a natural at the game.
With hard work and support he was bound to gain some fame!
He advanced to the little leagues as he grew in stature,
Playing most every position, but he excelled as the catcher.
At bat he garnered a few home runs along the way.
The young lad's athletic prowess is still talked about today!
He became a pitcher during his high school and college years.
His speed and accuracy amazed coaches, fans and peers!
Upon completion of college he was recruited for the minor leagues,
Where he suffered the usual harassment, letdowns and intrigues!
The moral lessons he learned upon the friendly fields of strife,
Prepared him to better face the challenging vicissitudes of life.
Especially when he was named rookie pitcher for a major club,
Tho' he spent many seasons warming the bench as a sub!
His big chance came in the last inning of the World Series game,
That brought him honors and election to Baseball's Hall of Fame!
The manager signaled the bullpen to send the rookie pitcher in.
He calmly retired the opposing side for the World Series win!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
My memory is still clear from the sense of the morning.
The grass was damp and the fog was a thin mist trying
to disperse.Both teams were already on the field stretching
from baseline to baseline.The click clack of my cleats caught
the opponents attention as I walked through the dugout to
come onto the field with a slow trot finding a comfortable
spot to start my pregame routine.My eyes scanned the players
as they begin to move across the field searching for weakness
from unnatural movement that may affect a swing.Whether or not
they cared I was the pitcher they would face didn't matter to me,
for I already knew if I was on, the at bat, the innings ,the game
would be mine.
The stadium was still filling up with what looked to me was going
to be a good crowd.The ushers were moving rapidly to their posts
to take control.It was something I always did while stretching,
watch the crowd to free my mind and relax the muscles.
This morning was different, for it was my first start since my
injury.My body felt good and my shoulder strong since the tear.
The day has just begun, the weather was great, the mound was
firm and I was ready once again.
I picked up the ball, rolled it in my hands, felt the stitches
looked in at the umpire, who pointed out and with a loud voice
said " Play Ball ".With that the season for me was under way
2/11/17
contest The National Past Time
We said ‘goodbye John’ today
What should we say
A Brave Yankee he was
Creating buzz
Announcing home runs in the air
Using a style entertaining, sparking flair
Turning a routine afternoon affair
Around
Toasting Pinstripe town
Even if the team was down
Jeter, Rodriguez and Judge
Success never budged
Standing strong
Waiting for the Liza and Frank Song
Written by Kandor and Ebb
Famous on Broadway many said
But giving a Sterling performance
Made everyone sing and dance
Line up had the creative look
Radio listening enjoying the personal hook
Seemed written in the playbill book
Holy Cow!
Is where he is now
Hearing how bout that
When at bat
He gets the call
Joining Phil and Mel watching baseball
You took over play at first base one day,
and showed everyone you were there to stay.
Your big league career no one could delay;
you were too talented for Triple-A.
An imposing sight, standing at the plate
with a powerful swing pitchers would hate.
When you were at bat, we would often hear
the broadcasters yelling: “IT’S OUTTA HERE!”
You received for the first season you played,
“Rookie Of The Year”, a prized accolade.
No better choice could have ever been made!
If more seasons played are like your first year,
you will have had an outstanding career!
Written back in 2005 after Ryan Howard was chosen the National League's Rookie
of the Year.