Short Home Plate Poems

we leave home plate
and run the bases
is life playing baseball?...

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The clear zing into the air
As my thoughts depart from existence.
The little brain waves ramble along the bases.
Sick to the thought of motion my spirit hovers.
For I never left home plate.
I am everywhere all the time....

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Sliding into home plate 
Wounds inherently whipped
Fantasies of victory 
On terms of nobility
Ambitious reality
Arrived values
Business a history
Concealed salvation
Watching supreme plead
Filming individual texture
Closing out shadows of fear...

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For the first time in a long time I step out into the open exposed and embrace the place of vulnerability. I step on the home plate to bat uncertain if I will hit a home run of fulfillment when I take my first swing. embracing this thing called courage and running towards the destiny that awaits me....

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At the pitcher’s mound, for the Arkansas Razorbacks,
The scarecrow faces the crowd and sings, “Bring Him Home”
From the Broadway Musical, “Les Miserable”
Then, he receives a standing ovation from a flock of
Black crows chatting and eating buttered popcorn,
In the front row box seats, just behind home plate...

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I stand above home plate, bat tight in hand
The outfielders move in right behind the infield.
The doubt belongs not to me, yet fear teases my mind.
Here comes the pitch...
I hold my breath...
The ball is taking forever to get here...
It's close...
I breathe out as I swing...
Coach screams...
RUN!!!...

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If I don't answer my phone, it doesn't mean I'm drinking at the club.
But maybe I'm blindly stealing home plate to another woman's heart.
I hate it when people say I'm the one that changed.
Open your eyes! It's just me with a bigger 'fro.
Instead of fighting, I'll direct you to the mirror.
Do you recognize you?...

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Love is an emotion
The ship set sail
Into the ocean
Killer whale

Love is a feeling
Mixed into a platter
Healthy healing
Bright cake batter

Love is an escape
From anger that we hate
Nicely tamed prime apes
Batter at home plate

Love is an emotion
Sailing in the ocean
The ocean of feelings
Mental health healing...

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B ats balls bases shaped like a diamond 
A merica's favorite past-time being played 
S luggers hitting those home runs 
E ating hotdogs peanuts and crackerjack 
B ases loaded a grandslam 
A ll Star break in mid-July 
L obbing strikes over home plate 
L ove to watch the Boys of Summer play the game 

      -C.A.Saputo xoxo...

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The park was immense, its lilac-bush-lined fences remote
   To blast a home run took a superhuman smote
All alone a-tremble at home plate, so helpless and small
   Dared I hope to swing, and not miss the ball...  

Decades later, the lilac bushes are grown thicker
   The once-cavernous park now shrunken, and quicker
Than my shock at the passing of so many years
   The unraveling of stitches from my baseball-sized tears...

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