Confidence is something i wear, much like a dress
or when i strikeout in the game I have to pick it back up like a bat.
Confidence and being a women are hand and hand you see.
Confidence is something I douse my self in, much like my perfume.
I love being a women, and wearing my confidence.
Categories:
strikeout, 12th grade,
Form: Free verse
She’s a daughter of those West Virginia hills.
Each morning she comes down from the holler,
And catches the bus going to another county.
She goes to a fancy, newly consolidated school
Some of the teachers think she’s a slow learner
Her shyness punctuated by a bothersome lisp,
On the playground, however, she’s in demand
For her slow pitch is even better than grand,
With each strikeout her whistle is low and crisp
She convinces her skeptics; she’s a page turner,
And she knows the meaning of The Golden Rule.
Not given to girlish ways, she’ll never be dainty
In the face of adversity, no youngster is calmer,
She’s a daughter of those West Virginia hills.
written January 26, 2022
[my unique Reverse Rhyme
abcdef gg fedcba]
Categories:
strikeout, anti bullying, appreciation, girl,
Form: Rhyme
1/4/21
Unearthly
Remaining sturdy
Holding on firmly
Continuing the journey
Pacing myself or in a hurry
Subsiding any worries
In a world full of controversy
The waters have been getting murky
And the lines are becoming blurry
People are violent or begging for mercy
Often being herky-jerky
And far too thirsty
Why do you always got to be dirty? (in the head)
You're always late and never early (since way back when)
Don't call another unworthy
Have a little more courtesy
Before being on the gurney
I'll always remain friends with animals that are furry
And all the little birdies
As well as all the other lifeforms that scurry
While I'm getting closer to the age of thirty
Not a single thing I can't die without
See for yourself, if you want to find out
What life's about
During any kind of drought
Whenever you want, can't just call a time-out
Because you did the wrong thing, for you it may be lights-out
From poor decisions, you can often strikeout
At the lower, middle or higher ground
The body aging and winding down
Any day now, I'll be dying now
While I'm alive, enjoying it, with smiles and frowns
Categories:
strikeout, dark, deep, life, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
Stop! That’s what they shout
when the crowd rushes out
Runaway! They scream
As they Leer at the bloodstream
Help! They Call out
Waiting for the hero to strikeout
Strong! We will remain against evil
Be prepared for your upheaval
Together! Shoulder to shoulder for life
Bulletproof and ready for the knife
Victory! is about working together
No matter how bad the weather
Categories:
strikeout, care, humanity, strength,
Form: Rhyme
Days of youth, spending time tossing that white pellet.
Learning how to play was sometimes heartless
as losses were an injury which was difficult to take.
As time went, so did the misunderstandings of the game,
but instead left a deeper love for its nuances.
Where to move on each play, who covered which base,
cutoffs, and the defensive attitude in mind when on the field.
Looking to see if the coach had enough faith
to put your name in the lineup for that day's game.
Every pitch became important. Every batted ball became the
hit you wanted. Every member of the team became your friend for life.
Don't let them down with an error or strikeout. Be their hero
with the saving catch or drive in the winning run.
Baseball on green fields
Pastime of all my summers
All American game.
Categories:
strikeout, baseball, childhood, kids, friendship,
Form: Haibun
You buy some tickets, make some plans,
Anticipate an outing
But always with an asterisk
For naturally, you’re doubting…
‘Cause life throws curve balls and you can’t
Be looking for straight pitches.
“The best-laid plans,” the saying goes,
Are filled with unknown glitches.
And so you cancel, with a shrug,
The strikeout one small zinger,
As fate delights in pointing
With its well-known fickle finger.
Categories:
strikeout, life,
Form: Rhyme
He drank too much at parties
And his antics roused the crowd.
His pitching arm was famous
And a strikeout made him proud.
He worked too many hours
Selling kids’ and ladies’ shoes;
Then he watched a game on Sunday
When one beer would make him snooze.
When waking him, you had to poke
Then jump out of the way;
In sleep, he was in World War II,
With enemies at bay.
The slightest thing would make him gag –
From blood down to a worm.
A baby spitting up would be
Enough to make him squirm.
He hated being late and so
Was early as could be.
I smile at this, for just as well,
This is describing me.
Apologies were not his thing
But if he’d blown his stack,
A visit to my room to chat
Would get us back on track.
He dreamed of his retirement
In Florida some day,
Convinced he’d win the lottery
He so much loved to play.
My father was a funny guy.
He’s thirty-two years gone;
But in my heart, his handsome face
Forever will smile on.
for Richard Tarr's contest
Categories:
strikeout, dad, world war ii,
Form: Rhyme
In baseball, when you get a strike
Three times, it means you’re out.
Unless you’re pitching, getting strikes
Is not what it’s about.
In bowling, though, a strike is great;
It’s what you’re hoping for.
The more times that you get a strike,
The higher is your score.
The same holds true in life, for words
Can have quite different slants
And one’s interpretation
May be ruled by circumstance.
So when you are confronted
With a word you may not like,
Choose bowling over baseball
And pretend that it’s a strike!
Categories:
strikeout, words,
Form: Rhyme