Browse all poems and songs in the 'Free Verse' Category

Rookie Debut (Yankees 14, KC 1)

by Stephen Jones

Yesterday, a kid–Slade Heathcott–
Hit his first big league home run.
In the majors for only a week,
He hadn’t even seen his team win.

But the Yankees put their slide on hold
And waxed KC’S Guthrie but good.
Maybe Steinbrenner’s ghost had paid
The Yankee locker room a visit.

Maybe Slade saw the ghost as well,
Maybe he was just glad to be alive,
Because he smacked a ball over centerfield
And called the experience “surreal”.



by Celeste Johnson

Swinging strike three against the Enemy in Blue
The Beloved Slight One finds himself amid Giants.
Standing above King Carl with only
The Christian Gentleman, The Dominican Dandy
And Rusie of Ancient Name as company.
All hallowed in the Hall. In this, at least, he stands among.
The Slight Beloved names this a “Good day for the Giants”
And a good day for him, Apologetic Pride
On display from one who need never apologize
For brilliance.



by Miles Hart

The luscious green grass,
The hard brown dirt,
The paper white bases,
All create a baseball field.
The player up to bat so calm and cool under pressure
The game tied at 3 with two outs
and a runner on 3rd,
The game on the line.
The first pitch
comes right down the center of the plate,
Swing and a miss,
strike one.
Pitch number two
a curve ball dropping two and half feet,
Strike two!
Pitch number three
a change up on the outside corner of the plate.
The ball is hit.
the ball travels through the air
as the crowd standstill,
You could hear a pin drop.
Going, Going, Gone!
They win the game.
The crowd storms the field in joy
of the win as they celebrate.


Miles Hart is a seventh-grader at Hawthorne Scholastic Academy in Chicago.

Unwanted History (Orioles/White Sox, April 29, 2015)

by Stephen Jones

In Baltimore today,
Because of instability,
Baseball’s being played
Behind close-door security.
With no fans’ cheers or jeers,
With no waves or foam fingers . . .
It’s a sad baseball first.

In 1857, 16 teams
Were organized in New York.
And nationwide, by ’65,
It was well over a hundred.
History says, even in war
No game’s been played
Without some fan present.

But today Camden Yards is empty–
It’s empty of its soul.
Ticket holders have been told
To stay away
Because of violence in the streets–
And the only way to see the game
Is via cable at home.

I’d rather throw a baseball . . .
Not a rock.


Cubs Game with Abuelo

by Brandon West

the last time we had fun
was at a Cubs game.
One of Sammy Sosa’s
last games.
He did great!
The only thing that I remembered
is that he hit a homerun into deep
right center.
When he touched home plate, he touched
his head,
his lower chest,
then right shoulder,
then left shoulder,
kissed the side of his
hand, then pointed
to me,
like I was blessed
to play baseball.
I don’t know, but maybe I am.
Cubs won, 6-5 against one of the teams to beat,
the Philadelphia Phillies.
Then the next thing I know,
Abuelo started smoking. Everything went downhill from there,
he was diagnosed
with type 4 lung
cancer, it was spreading
to his bones.
The last time I saw him was when Abuela was making
breakfast, he got up, with his neck brace and walker,
went to the kitchen,
asked Abuela for something
and left.
He left me,
and his soul left us.
I would always remember
that green-eyed,
kind-hearted person.


Brandon West is a seventh-grader at Hawthorne Scholastic Academy in Chicago.

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