Long Baseballs Poems
Long Baseballs Poems. Below are the most popular long Baseballs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Baseballs poems by poem length and keyword.
There in a galaxy and a land, far, far away
There are super Stars and super Humanoids
They playing baseball with hot plasma baseballs
Aliens are causing bright light luminous emanations:
These from their lightning light-saber laser like bats
A League of teams is fighting for their own home planet life
No one ever touches the ground over there
The only very strict rule is to keep walking on the atmosphere
The cleats used there are to be able to endlessly hover
Also, on their backs are super powerful gama-ray jetpacks
Home-runs there do cause volcanic catastrophic land shocks
To win is life with zeal, to lose is a demise and a death unseen
Somethings there are similar as here; these things to be pondered
Georgie
His was a pudgy boyish countenance,
With rounded river eyes and an Alfalfa smile.
He wheezed like a sick tern with repeated asthma attacks,
Playing hard at the various outdoor games and chases,
Of our fleeting childhood years in the inhaling sun.
He perspired profusely in 1964 as he sat with beads of sweat which
Gathered like a water pox above his lips, all in a wheezing row.
Bespectacled Georgie was the curlicued, black-haired boy
who lived two houses up from ours; the one with the green hedge.
He wore converse sneakers, a white tee and blue denim, with
Thick black-framed glasses astride his chubby white face.
His was a temper not sought by anyone, including Elsie his mother.
Georgie was her little boy, but when angered, baseball bats went flying.
Curse words were screamed loudly with one’s birth name questioned intensely.
Stones and large rocks were heaved at innocent windows and nearby statuary.
Baseballs were hurled at the heads of other little boys, with misses near and far.
Toy darts were skipped across baking sidewalks to the bare feet of his playmates,
Producing more loud voices shrieking in pain when the darts impaled their feet.
Oranges and lemons were rabidly picked for the purpose of pummeling one’s nose;
But gentle mother Elsie loved her little Georgie, and his little blue inhaler.
Years and decades sailed by like lost boats in a starless harbor.
Little Georgie grew into a pudgy man with nothing changed except, the drugs.
Marijuana odors hovered like invisible swarms of masticating locusts,
Lurking above the silent brick houses of our street, with old Georgie lighting up.
With a pipe and a baggie in his pocket, my old friend gave up on his life.
He decided not to work, but to take aimless walks down deserted avenues;
Day after empty day he took his drifting strolls into a personal oblivion.
We subsequently lost contact in the ensuing decades, and I forgot about him.
Until recently… I found out…
Georgie’s funeral took place 25 years ago at Rose Hills Cemetery.
Rest in piece old friend, old tormentor, with your little blue inhaler.
I’m not sure
I have the strength anymore
To be discovered
Stepping into the cold black lake of February
Clopping to work in frozen slop
Snow snarling at my ankles
Car coughing
Windshield gritting its white teeth
I wear a body double of fur curved
Like a polar beast on my back
Then the Voice of the Turtle whispers…
And sprinklers spritz in a mist of sunrise
And rows of palm trees unfold as a breezy outfield fence
Blue sky a homerun boundary
Free to swing away you can’t miss
Buckets of baseballs flung to the green sea
Leather-gloved squids
Eight kids per position
Waiting their ground balls and pop flies
Legend to rookie 60 feet and 6 inches from the big show
Chin skimmed and bum chapped with red dirt
Tip of hat flattened to home plate
Get up swing back at that
Unfamiliar crack of doubt
Deep from winter inside you.
A hot sun is a bird perched on the bill of your cap
#10 Numi eternal rookie in us all
Spread your wings and fly to Detroit
The Old English D forever on your chest.
I've got footballs.I've got basketballs.I've got baseballs.
And now, they're showing my balls on ESPN.
But the smallest balls I've ever seen?
Were golf balls.
Ping Pong balls were even smaller.
Would you like to join me, for a game of table tennis?
Because! I've got balls..
I've got red balls.I've got white balls.I've got blue balls.
And now, they're playing The Star Spangled Banner.
But the biggest balls I've ever seen?
Were elephant balls.
How many balls does it take to reach the moon?
One! But it's got to be a big one.
One big ball..
I'm going down to the ball room right now, and have a ball.
Would you like to join me?
We'll have a real good time.
Because! I've got balls..
Humorous Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2002,2014..
ALL rights reserved..
Form:
It's not easy becoming a Legendary
Major League Baseball pitcher.
It never was and will never be.
You get put through the wringer
and hung out to dry.
From time to time you'll get little or no
run support.
You may have to face Legendary Icons
of the game 2 and 3 times in a game.
Come face to face with undisguised
Batting Champions.
Silver Slugger Award Winners.
Members and potential Members of the
500 Home Run Club.
Members and potential Members
of the 3000 Hits Club
A few Future Members of
Baseballs Hall of Fame
as well as Iconic MLB ALL STARS.
You will face monumental challenges.
You'll get worn down and roughed up
being on the road 82 games a season.
As a Major League Baseball Starting Pitcher
you suck it up, go out on the mound
and challenge history.
You bring your "A" game
You bring your best fastball
your best curve ball
and your best change up.
When you average 33 starts a season.
Average 10 complete games per season.
Average 3 shut outs per season.
Throw a No Hitter every 3.857 seasons.
Face an average 972 batters per season.
Average 232 innings per season
Through hot , cold , humid and sticky weather.
Give up an average 169 hits per season.
Average 232 innings per season.
Average 82 earned runs per season.
Give up an average 14 home runs in 33 games
over 232 innings per season.
When you average 120 walks per season
Strike out an average 246 batters per season
for a career total of 5714.
It kinda looks like this.
6.6 hits per 9 innings
4.7 walks per 9 innings
9.5 strike outs per 9 innings
Over 27 seasons.
When you do that for a total of 27 seasons
The critics will call you the next
Nolan Ryan.
The Legendary Strike Out King
Member of Major League Baseballs
Hall of Fame.
Michael E. Harris
02202022
Thoughts of wisdom.
Now grandpa was a guy
A man I held up high
Everything he told me
I knew it was no lie.
All those facts he told
While lying in his bed
Waiting for his God
To claim that he was dead.
I was twelve years old
As green as green can be
But Grandpa always said
That I could see and see.
The stories that he told,
His good one liners too
They opened up my mind
I knew that they were true.
Do you want to know
What he would converse?
Like that backward poet
He always writes inverse.
He would often say
“you are like me son,
Just like an acupuncture
A good jab well done!”
Did I know that camels
Could always find an oasis?
Like Bakers only trade a recipe
On a knead to know basis.
Sometimes you carry stress
Until you feel encumbered,
But just you watch this space
A calendars days are numbered.
There are those that seem quite lucky
But they bloody cheat.
Just you think of this
A boiled egg is hard to beat.
Never go for credit
No matter how well dressed,
For like the Exorcist
It will end up repossessed.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
It did cause a commotion,
The silly bird was oiled
A poultry in motion.
Oh, see at Xmas time
You think that time it pauses,
But watch those Santa’s helpers
There only subordinate little clauses.
As for shopping centres
I know that they do sprawl
But once you’ve seen a big one,
I think you have seen a Mall
Never be a thief
Or take a quick backhander
You’ll end up with twelve months
Just like a calendar.
Grandpa he liked baseball
And going to the gym
That baseballs getting bigger
Then the ball hit him!
When it comes to writing
Don’t get in a mess,
To write with broken pencil
It really is quite pointless.
His last conversation it really was profound
Before he climbed Gods steps,
He said “Son,
Go get my Gin and Schweppes,
Appreciate the time you have
It is only Manana,
For Time flies like an Arrow
But fruit flies like a Banana.
Cheers Grandpa.
The midway Barker sings his song
Enticing fairgoers to part with their cash
Calliope music from the Merry-Go-Round
Attracts children in a hurried dash
Where once grew grass now is mud
Trampled beneath the frenzied mob
Sitting in rows of picnic tables
Are neighbors enjoying their corn on the cob
Johnny throws baseballs at stacked milk bottles
Billy shoots at the metal shaped ducks
Sally is sticky from her cotton candy
Tommy wants to see the monster trucks
Becky displays her quilted blanket
Ann walks through the House of Mirrors
Tommy and Nancy ride the Ferris Wheel
Scooting a little bit nearer
And all alone, outside the stockyard barn
Rebecca sits with a tear in her eye
Holding the blue first-place ribbon
For the calf to whom she just said good-bye
Being voted the Best-In-Show
Is an honor no one else can share
But then having to let her Betsy go
Makes the County Fair seem not so fair
I'm becoming a baseball! I'm so proud,
in this Rawlings factory, being stitched,
dreaming of my day in front of the crowd,
gently tossed around the infield and pitched.
Some of the baby baseballs in this place
tell of such fun, sailing over the grass,
an exciting split-second finish race
'tween ball and player, sliding on his ass.
Some talk of being smashed by fearsome bats
telling horrid tales, like one 'bout Johnny -
that poor ball died, just one of baseball's stats,
when he was slammed by Shohei Ohtani.
They tell me I needn't have any fears
if I'm pitched to Seattle Mariners.
Do you remember playing baseball?
Or hitting tennis balls over the net?
Do you recall basking in the sun?
Those were the best days of all.
The warm times are coming back
Sporting baseballs are here again,
And whacking tennis balls for hours.
It is time for hot days to be on track.
Funny, how I think of summer days
Winter’s call is still in full force
The snow is falling inch by inch
I long for the sun to shine our way.
I wait for the first flower to grow,
The first robin to begin singing,
And the first butterfly to fly by.
I bide for the long days to glow.
Winter is slowly fading away,
The comfitures are now aside,
And springtime has finally come.
A bright rainbow glowed our way.
Yes, the hot days are back again
Jack Frost left for the winter season
I can finally play tennis with friends,
And throw baseballs all day again.
The sunshine is shining down on me.
How summertime makes me smile.
If I could part a smile with someone,
I would definitely share it with thee.
NEW YORK YANKEES,
BASEBALLS MOST LOVED TEAM.
I'M JUST JOKING,
THAT'S ONLY IN YOUR DREAMS.
THE YANKEES BOUGHT
GEORGE HERMAN RUTH.
SO HE WOULDN'T,
BEAT THEM FROM THE MOUND.
THEN THEY SPENT
MORE MONEY.
BOUGHT THE BEST
FROM ALL AROUND.
ONE, MUST ADMIRE,
ALL THE GREATEST
YANKEE NAMES.
I DON'T BELIEVE
ANY BASEBALL TEAM
HAVE MORE
IN THE HALL OF FAME.
I KICK BACK AND SMILE.
BECAUSE I'M A BASEBALL FAN.
I LIKE TO CHEER
FOR THE UNDER DOG
JUST BECAUSE I CAN.
YOU GOTTA LOVE
THE YANKEES,
WHEN THEY COME
TO YOUR HOME TOWN.
YOU BUY A SEAT
WATCH THE GAME.
HOPE YOU WIN
SERIES CROWN.
WITH THE BEST TALENTS
IN BASEBALL.
ALL ON THE VERY
SAME TEAM.
YES I CAN IMAGINE
HOW THIS,
CAN BE A DREAM.
IF YOU CAN'T BEAT EM
BUY EM.
MAKES PERFECT SENSE
TO ME.
WE'RE TALKING
WORLD SERIES.
IT'S BUSINESS
AND IT'S NOT FREE.
UNCLE PHIL
THANKS MY FRIEND.
FOR THE INTRODUCTION
TO BASEBALL.
I SEE YOUR POINT
AND I WILL AGREE
IT'S THE GREATEST GAME OF ALL.
Michael E. Harris
12302020