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


The Boy

By Stuart Shea

The boy
Held a passel of baseball cards
Dating from before his birth
(His time on earth
Not even a thought)
With joy

 



Home Run Derby Winner

by Stephen Jones

Giancarlo Stanton swings his bat
Like John Henry swung his hammer.
When he connects, sparks fly.

No small wonder, that no pitcher
Wants to face this Marlin batter.

 



Perseverance

by Doug Fahrendorff

Junior Guerra
At age 31, a unique rookie
His baseball odyssey a winding road
Stops at Braves and Mets minor league affiliates
Independent ball
The Mexican league
And Italian pro baseball
This year he arrived in Milwaukee
His pitching success
A bright spot in a rebuilding year
However long his success lasts
It’s worthwhile
Celebrating his perseverance

 



RIP: A Sixty-Year Lament

by Robert Hilliard

They’re gone.
Pete, Pee-wee and Jackie
entertaining the
Knothole Gang
by crashing into walls,
hustling infield rollers,
and stealing home with a bang.

They’re gone.
Dolph and Cookie and Leo.
No Lip to the umps
No soda or peanuts or crackerjacks.
No cries from the
twenty-five cent bleacher seats
“Wait till next year!”
No more we’ll be chumps.

And Hoyt ain‘t hoit anymore.

They’re gone.
Van Lingle the Mungo and Sandy the K
and Campy, Newk, Preacher
and Mickey, who dropped the third out,
kicking the game away.

Even after Ralph hurled
the Shot Heard ‘Round the World
we were soothed by the guy in the catbird seat.
Red’s voice helped take away the heat.

There was sweet swinging Duke
and Gil’s four in a game.
Why aren’t they
in baseball’s Hall of Fame?

We can still boo the Giants,
but it just ain’t the same.

Waiting year after year
for a moment delirious,
to root for the trolley boys,
at last, in 1955,
in the Woild Serious.

Finally, some fame,
more games to be won,
big houses to tally.
And the money ain’t lame.
But poof, they were gone,
a pox on O’Malley.

A pseudo-team now in LA
copping a cherished name.
An usurper.
A pretender.
A thief.
For shame! For shame!

It’s gone.
They’re gone.
Rest in Peace, Ebbets Field.
Rest in Peace, Brooklyn Dodgers.

 



Old Timers’ Day (06/12/2016)

by Stephen Jones

It was Old Timers’ Day
At Yankee Stadium:
Familiar names played the field;
Yogi was remembered.
The banter in the booth
Was long on lore and tooth
And was like the game itself:
A scrapbook of past and present–
Because baseball never gets old.

 

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