Short Hitter Poems

I may not like it
the designated hitter
Ortiz is the best...

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we must consider 
he bad become bad hitter 
a bitter quitter 

How is that for a Horn Haiku...

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Hunting for the enemies 
Hitter 
Within the heart carrying his 
Killed him 
His anger 
In the World 11...

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control and command
of that which comes out of your hand
advances your cause
while giving the hitter occasional pause....

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there was a kidder who sat on a *hitter
he pushed long and hard for he was no quitter
but nothing came out
he left with a pout
that gritty old kidder was named Tex Ritter...

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Release to me my find
Alas my loves come forth
Just before the sunset
Bring hitter twine my love

8/21/19
Written words James Edward Lee Sr.2019©...

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Late, iconic R&B singer, Luther Vandross
Sang with a satin voice with coats of gloss.
As hitter of notes he never could go wrong.
"Dance With My Father" his last hit song.
...

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Daddy’s little girl -
chip off the old hard hitter -
I watch and I learn. . . . . 
I'll make the world my ball and
make it work; Dad showed me how!

Written by Andrea Dietrich
For LInda-Marie's Contest:
"Baby Babbles"...

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There was a player on our team we called Rick
            He hit third and was really a great stick
    When on the bases, he made strange faces
And always thought that he could steal bases
                  Another out, he was slow as a brick...

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April sixth, nineteen-seventy-three
A-L pitchers became bat free

and the designated hitter was born
and those fans did eat a lot of popcorn

Ron Blomberg was the first
that started the thirst

for homeruns and extra bases
as fans showed their happy faces...

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Friends with the great Hank G. 
Quite a good hitter himself 
Announced for the NY Metropolitans 
I support all the New York teams 
   The Amazings 
a team which 
   has won two championships 
Ralph Kiner 
Announcer - man who dated Liz Taylor 
 Man who has now gone to his rest
   Ralph Kiner...

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In high school I was no bad boy heavy hitter,
nor was I a jock or a nerd and most definitely not a player.
The clique I belonged to were  known as The Unnoticeables,
the overlooked like so many passing shadows.
None of us Unnoticeables ever hung out together, 
because we too never happened to notice each other....

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I've got a sitter called Mub,

a boring hitter in a bum-

the crisscrossing of falling things evaporate with me,

as I'm seeing,

savoring moments of feelings becoming beamed,

but I get back after a whole thing,

sauntering-
and rock climbing-
and coarse rhyming,

blasting um' all off but still needing more timing....

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I had to be much bitter,
Sure of the two The Fitter...

Away hours he'd fritter
On some spot steady sitter,
Never chats ends with Rita,
Engulfed in things that glitter
Fears of what in me bitter
I could betray as a hitter,
Peter dropping like litter
And never picking him up
An "I shan't - have - again pup"

So, its a lucky Peter,
For whom things have been neater....

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TickTock on a Rock

There was an elephant stuck on a rock
He had been rockin’ all around the clock 
He made a trunk call
The best news of all
He’s found fame doing video TikTok.

* * *

Nellie had finally found fame
On TikTok making her name
Then on Twitter
Became a big hitter
It’s the internet that's to blame. 

Written by:John Read

* * *...

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with them had much pride
they won after being tied
felt happy inside

he had planned each pitch
to a hitter who would switch
ball did land in ditch

liked to inspire
he was a great umpire
who we had to hire

when we took a look
marker fell out of my book
with was used to cook

we had digested
steady stock be invested
which was suggested

cattle were grazing
all of them had been raising
loved and were praising...

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After weeks of practice, I’m ready to get out there.
Me and the rest of the guys love to play a real game.
There’s a cute second baseman with really long hair.
I didn’t know girls could play, but I guess it’s just the same.

I’m the last at bat; they call me the clean-up hitter.
I don’t feel any pressure, because I know I’m good.
They don’t pay me nearly enough, but I’m not bitter.
After all, I’m a tee-ball star, not a star from Hollywood....

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Who’s been struck with even little hammer 
And his lips failed to curses yammer:
“Son-of-a-” not part of grammar:
For a blow, mortal, control stammer?

Struck with a big or a little hammer!
One is sure to enact a drama;
Golden voice hatching golden stammer,
Striker: replica of Osama 
While one is far flung from Obama: 
A writhing cut tail of Agama. 

The Hitter Bigger Monday Hammer 
Bound to give up any Akiyama 
And grossly cough Newest Yamaha!...

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Bat, ball, and glove, a sacred rite of spring
Timeless afternoons of joy shared by all
Everyone gets a chance to give a swing
To meet the challenge: putting bat on ball.
Stretch, windup, and pitch, a flaming fastball
Hitter gives it flight with resounding crack
Outfielder’s eyes wide, then pedaling back
Jubilant bat toss, he breaks into run
Pitcher’s shoulders droop, his jaw going slack
Outfielder against fence, it’s a home run!

4/10/16...

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How quickly I got drunk on him
He was the salt I licked off the rim 
    of glass after unsatiable glass
Intoxicated on love, over the brim
I drank beyond limit, beyond control
    until inebriation took an ugly toll


Then the drinks became too bitter
    like sparkling champagne loses its glitter
In sober state I admitted my mistake -
    drunkenness is a hard hitter
I taste salt from tears upon my tongue
    because of a song I should've left unsung...

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Today, this morning, it’s on, 
The biggest battle of the week,
Down by the broken bridge, 
The one on Old Man creek.

Hell’s Angel, Ugly Pete, 
Will take on Two Tooth Trey, 
The winner taking all the glory, 
Crowned King for the day.

Pete is a south-paw, 
While Trey’s a sneaky switch hitter,
And neither of them,
Have ever been a quitter.

Today, this morning, it’s on, 
The best Staring Contest you’ll see,
At this quiet old folks home,
Straight after morning tea....

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You lied
I cried

Lie low
Hello

My dear
Her rear

Was flake
You snake

Slitter
Hitter

Batter
Scatter

Foul balls
Who falls

I did
You squid

I plea
Leave me

Your eyes
Like pies

And sweets
And tweets

That sing
And bling

That sate
Your plate

Without
A doubt

Peter
Cheater

Pumpin
Bumpkin

Bowwow 
Chow Chow

It's clear
Leave here


connie pachecho

1/12/25

Note-A prelude to this poem, "If I Were Your Love," dated 5/1/23....

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