Long Ballgame Poems

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Premium Member The Old Ball Game

When I was a child,
summer at my Aunt Joanne’s
meant staying out as late as it took the sun to set!
And mostly with my cousin Chris,
I threw a baseball back and forth
with exhilaration each time I felt
the impact of Chris having thrown the ball
right smack in the center of my glove.

Chris’ dad, my Uncle Clifford, loved his baseball!
One time I remember
being loaded with the other kids into his old car,
summer wind blowing through my hair,
as he drove us to a game in Davenport.
Uncle Clifford used to play on that same diamond
where he took us to watch that game.

I wasn’t all that keen on it.
But the atmosphere was so lively.
Vendors selling hot dogs, cracker jacks, and candy -
this was my childhood delight!
I am sure I must have cheered 
for a team of which I knew absolutely nothing,
mimicking my elders there in the stadium
as wildly they called out their reactions to the game.

In school I played baseball myself,
standing like a statue in the outfield.
It was more exciting to watch my brother Dale from the stand,
those long hot summer afternoons as he played on his league.

It would be at least twenty years later
that I would sit and cheer for a baseball game again -
this time for my son in Little League.
Rooting for a loved one makes the game more alive for me!
Grimacing with every strike my son made;
standing up and going crazy when at last . . .
he knocked it out far into right field!
Glowing with pride that my son’s forte was as catcher
and watching him in all his gear behind home plate.

When I hear the old familiar song Take Me Out To the Ballgame,
it reminds me of the simple pleasures
of my youth,
a time when life was slower paced
and those summer days with my cousins.
America’s pastime, which has trained so many kids
to love being part of a team,
now seems to take a back seat to that rowdy sport called football.
But give ME a game I can follow,
a game that through time I came to love.
My Uncle Clifford has since passed away;
oh to spend one more day with him
at the old ball game.
Form: Prose


Premium Member Those Were Better Times Good Times Being Around My Grands- -

"Those were better times. Good times!
Being round my grands…

It reminds me of my grandparents;
Grandma, baba, ouma, bomma grandmother;
Love to read poems sing them ole time songs;
So much love they given each of us;

Those were better times. Good times!
Being round my grands…

Yet they were stern
Great teachers taught my parents as will as me to learn;
They listened to a Motorola on a tall stand;
Nonna would play a little ditty on the “baby grand”
Oh! And Gran made fried pies on Sundays;

Those were better times. Good times!
Being round my grands…

We would have with our dinner;
Homemade chicken soup, meatloaf and cabbage loaf;
My grandpa and his friends would sit outside talkN loud 
While listening to the ballgame on a transmitter radio; 
The ladies would settle in the den;
Nesting caressing darning with patch qulits using needles and tread;
Joyously giggling laughing while lovingly talkN bout them men;

Those were better times. Good times!
Being round my grands…"




1/4/20
Written words by Genysis DMaurier & James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
A dedicated verse to Genysis DMaurier
based on words from Genysis to a e-mail to me

From the Virtuous Woman To the Wayward Women

FROM THE VIRTUOUS WOMAN
TO THE WAYWARD:

Excuse me...I'm moving on,
And I don't need your opinion,
To cast away the trust I'm leaning on.
You have life and choices you living on,
And I don't think of deciding for you,
Since you can't decide for me too.
But I will only accept your suggestions,
By placing them on tactful digestions.
We've both been fairly young before,
When we were been held not to fall,
By people who acted as our tutelars.
But we're now of age living as thinkers.

You can freely go naked on the streets,
Get your self sexed up when you feel,
Because that's how you get to feed,
By going through this disgusting deal.
You exchange your integrity with cash,
And you warmly feel okay with that.
But that's your wish...and that's you.
So if I don't yearn to do as such,
Don't assume me to be a fool.
I will never allure someone's spouse,
Only to destroy the peace in his house.
Why should you sleep with someone's man,
With the intention to just have a child?

Yes,I know this is now your major aim,
Without you thinking of its ballgame,
For you to illicitly birth an inculpable nipper, 
Into the world to live and suffer?
If you're not yet ticketed with wedlock,
Or you feel old age is causing a deadlock,
Is it the best option to just bastardize,
As a form of happiness to be satisfied?
I will ever dwell patiently with content,
No matter the pressure that I sense.
Inasmuch as I'm a woman of virtue,
Never do I loose my focus and value.
It's my life,my choice and I'm proud.
Thank you...I'm out!

Premium Member A Lighter Touch

It's a matter of pressure, the weight of exchange
Affection we share now, in a different ballgame
I won't leave you red faced, embarrass, or shame
Tho' my impulse commands to squeeze you the same
But your school chums are watching, so I keep arms restrained
 
You've been climbing the ladder, to your middle school days
And I'll admit that the changes are much harder for me
Than for you who resolves to grab hold to each year
And wear them like badges, on your way to be free

My cherub remembered, is no prize you would own
Yet my feelings, regardless, are the same as before
When I rocked you, my baby, how I cherished dark nights
I never once pondered, how soon wings take flight

I would cradle and hold you, my lips on your cheek
I sang nursery stories, and called you my sweet
The world of surprises with each passing while
As you wander a tightrope,  between a man and the child

So I hug you now gently,  I must stifle my gushing
But the touch of you fills me with rushes of longing
I can’t swallow you whole, like I did long ago
But the love hasn’t changed, and the touch is much lighter
But the love is the same , we both know it, somehow…



..................
For Deb's Contest: "Touch"

Premium Member Somewhere - John Loving Iii

SOMEWHERE


by~ JOHN LOVING III

somewhere out there in the sky's
God is wearing His great disguise
He's so cleverly hidden
no one can see Him with there eyes
 
somewhere in there, in my mind
God is hiding, looking and finding
like the thief that comes in the night
taking from you what's wrong and right


by~ Poet Destroyer

Somewhere I silently hear my name.
God whispers words as if this was a ballgame.
"Come to me!" 
He aims secretly, this man I can't see.

Somewhere along my path I admit, 
God is waiting for me to surrender
Like lightning and thunder in broad daylight,
he will always strike, shine and takeover~ like my white knight 


a collaboration with * John Loving III


Illusion

ILLUSION:

The focality of planned visual aspect,
Always birth illusionary conclusion,
Because attractive package conceals an abject;
Wretchedness nicely hidden behind perfection,
Deep down the heart is full of sadness.
But a cheerful face is being expressed through discretion,
Intended to cover a state of affairs and it's subject,
So he don't pass away with regard to stigmatization.

He's really fighting to be self-motivated,
As he's locked up in a room of self-debasement.
Spectators are premising on merely observed facet,
By drawing down curtains based on perspective analysis,
With regard to optical illusion and a mindset.
And just because He steps out with confidence,
His defect is far from nakedness.
But meanwhile, he's batting psychological unwellness.

No more does he have anyone trusted to tell his story,
So he keeps himself hooked to the mirror of his own feeling.
Those he trusted kept discarding his glory,
Solely by publicly washing his filthy linen;
Afterwards adorned him with shame,
And also tagged him with a bad name.
It was left for them to crucify him as their ballgame. 
But now wisdom is teaching him to dusguise his aim,
In order not to have himself once again blamed.

@ANDERSON WALKINGSHOES
Form: Lyric

Premium Member 969 a Thousand Years of Ticking Time

969 A Thousand Years of Ticking Time
David J Walker  

Mr. Methuselah
	A word please
It’s about time 
To reveal what you know and
When you knew that you knew it
What you remember and 
When to remember to remember it 
Were you a slow learner 
Did you live longer at home
Was there a word for teenager 
Did you get along with your father
Did your mother nag you about grad school
Did you save enough for retirement 
Did Lamech get a tatu with his girl-friends name
Was Naamah bad about Honey-Do’s when 
You became empty nesters 
What festers in your mind about 
Things you never got around to 
Did you play catch with 
The sons of your grandsons 
In the afternoons
Did you ever take Noah to a ballgame and
Buy popcorn and have a beer 
And talk about things to come between innings
Did you ever forget an anniversary or 
Which one it was 
Do you remember all your grandchildren’s names
Someone did and wrote them down and
I bet it was Naamah right
I bet it was Naamah that kept things going 
I bet it was Naamah who held court like 
Queen Victoria 
Gathering her many grandsons to her knee

Mr. Methuselah
What 
	If anything
Can you tell me to make me want to 
Live long than you

Premium Member His Smell

It was a smell I was familiar with,
His smell.
But he had been gone for almost eight years,
And I had come to terms with it.
Or so I thought 

Until I smelled his smell.
Then it was a whole new ballgame.
Do not expect people to get over a death right away,
Don’t expect them to ever get over it.

When you least expect it, a smell,
A thought, a number, a trick, or
Something else will happen that
Brings it all back as if it was
Yesterday that he left.

Let the tears flow.
Your soul needs this.
He is here, loving you.
You can feel this, and
It is okay.  Trust
Your feelings.

You angels are always near, to
love and protect you.

At First Glance

**At First Glance**


Friday night lights blind,
Fans thick and in full throat.
our team is in position, primed.
Everyone praying they don't choke!

I'm grooving thanks to Jose' & Jack,
my voice hoarse from acting a fool.

Wait!

Before I continue
let me just tell you 
what caught my eye!

A ginger,
let's say five nine,
white denim jacket, stunning!
Long hair twisted in design. 

Lights reflection flashing
brightly from her crimson hair.
I stare,
shorties unique with much flare

At first glance I was hooked
and I don't even have her name.
I make my way across the field 
to be known to this grande dame.

Where was I?
oh yeah, the ballgame!

They won with a great aerial attack,
there will be parties all night at school.

the crowd dissolves, she stands alone
I approach! 
Not shy, I cast the first stone.
Hello, 
my name is! you are?

My voice deep like a trombone,
nervous, I'm out of my comfort zone!
She breaks the ice, 
saying something witty
"why'd you take so long?
"I noticed you to silly!"

"Do you have plans tonight?
would you like to join me?"
There's a party on the south side,
just over the railroad tracks.
I grab her hand, "lets take a ride"
Twas my angle of attack!

From a sea of faces,
she stood alone.
Lost in her eyes,
my oasis.
Under her control.

Like a game of "Where's Waldo",
romance found by chance!
Never thought I could fall so hard,
At first glance!


Jared Pickett
6/30/2014
Asavvy1

Premium Member Jacuzzi

Every home should have a Jacuzzi
It's the only civilized way
To melt away your cares and troubles
Puts zing back into your day

Nothing else is really quite like it
As the jets open up your pores
It's such a happy invigorating feeling
Like the whole damn world is yours

Feeling like each of your body parts
Is singing and offering you praise
For waking up those happy feelings
Giving thanks for each new day

Now I won't get into 'two in a tub'
That's a totally different ballgame
Suddenly it's no more about cleanliness
Your focus sure ain't quite the same

A great subject for an X-rated poem
So watch for it down the road
Getting that anxious feeling already
Must cool it or my loins will explode!

© Jack Ellison 2012
Form: Quatrain

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