Short Slugger Poems

Short Slugger Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Slugger by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Slugger by length and keyword.


The Pitched Ball

the pitched ball
of its many proponents we have signed almost all
but nary a slugger
imbalance has struck, it's likely too late, so bugger.
Form: Clerihew


The Pitched Ball

the pitched ball
of its many proponents we have signed almost all
but hardly a single slugger
imbalance has struck, it's likely too late, so bugger.
art
Form: Clerihew

Premium Member Wr Potter

W. R. Potter
Brother from another mother
Fellow baseball bat slugger
Could outhit me
Could outspit me
Could outwit me
Could outdrink me
Couldn't outlive me
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Fans Head For the Exits Happy

The mighty slugger saunted to the plate
The sun dipped in the sky, 'twas getting late
  First he swung and he missed
  But the next pitch he 'kissed' 
Out of the park ~ onto the Interstate
Form: Limerick

Ever Since

dad could roll a cigarette
with just two fingers
and the tip of his tongue
i saw him do this once
in a wind storm

he would shave just close enough
to keep himself grizzled

he could dive into an engine
to wrench a rattle
and make it purr

he was an expert drinker
astounding all-comers

so
ever since
he took a Louisville Slugger
to moms head
the three of us

ma
he
and me
were all astounded


Premium Member Dr Quinzel

Harley Quinn,
Harlequin.
Evil twin.
Don't cross her.
You won't again.
She uses a Slugger.
Louisville bat.
The Joker dumped her.
A very Mad act.
Ms. Quin's not chagrin.

She runs a Rhino.
A big Sixty D.S.
Was in on that deal.
To end the Enchantress.
She's been there and back.
No pretense yet a fact.
Harlequin is a genius.
She'll easily escape prison.
It Seem's as Ms. Quinn
Sees with split vision.

Premium Member Grandma I Am In Position

A large round blue ball.
A plastic bat, faded beyond belief.
An enthusiastic four-year-old grandson.

“Grandma, I am in position,” he says. “Throw the ball.”
Bam. It hits me on the top of the head, delighting him.
“You are a natural slugger, “I tell him.  
We repeat these steps about three hundred times.

“Five more minutes,” I say.
“Ten more,” he answers.
He was exhausted in about eight.
“You are throwing it wrong!” he told me haughtily.
Confidence! Nothing like it.

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