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

Requiescat in Pace, Red Sox

by Stephen Jones

Wha’happened, Red Sox Nation?
Cleveland was more resilient,
That’s what — and even with
A banged-up rotation.

So, no late-inning magic —
No Big Papi and his swinging stick.
In fact, the Boston bats mostly were
A disappearing act.

Funny, how it goes —
how the regular season crescendo
Can go out the postseason window,
When one team’s hot
And the other is not.


For Jose Fernandez

By Stuart Shea

Shooting stars are meant to fall
Whether in view or hidden,
It’s always such a shock to us
When, seemingly unbidden,
One does,
Just because.



by Doug Fahrendorff

Only the first name necessary
Japan’s hitting master
3000 hits at age 42
As talented in the field
As at bat
His success
Paved the way
For other Japanese position players
Fans wonder
What he’d have done
Had he reached the Major leagues
Few would argue
Ichiro is a truly singular talent
And should be a cinch Hall of Famer


For Major Leaguers Past Their Prime

by Stephen Jones

Empty as an aerosol can.
In baseball, it’s called
Shuttin’ it down.

“Time was, I had a full tank,
And I could drive forever.
Now I’m O-for-infinity
And can’t even get a walk.
Once, I used to clubhouse park
And boast about October.
Now it’s a car called Legacy
In which I’m just a rider.”

Funny, how baseball is
Timeless — and yet we’re all
Mortal in the business.



by Stephen Jones

The trade deadline has
Come and gone. The smoke
Of the firesale has cleared.

And it’s hard to believe:
“Pinstripes” and “seller”
In the same sentence.

But for once, the Yankees
Thought of the future,
Not some gaudy names
Soon for the pasture.

At least that’s what I
Tell myself, as I
See this season
Put away, on the shelf.


AL East

NL East

Extra Innings

AL Central

NL Central

Poems by Type

AL West

NL West

Heavy Hitters

Copyright 2007 Bardball.