The man who complains about the way the ball bounces is likely the one who dropped it.
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Analysis Of Baseball
It’s about
the ball,
the bat,
and the mitt.
Ball hits
bat, or it
hits mitt.
Bat doesn’t
hit ball, bat
meets it.
Ball bounces
off bat, flies
air, or thuds
ground (dud)
or it
fits mitt.
Bat waits
for ball
to mate.
Ball hates
to take bat’s
bait. Ball
flirts, bat’s
late, don’t
keep the date.
Ball goes in
(thwack) to mitt,
and goes out
(thwack) back
to mitt.
Ball fits
mitt, but
not all
the time.
Sometimes
ball gets hit
(pow) when bat
meets it,
and sails
to a place
where mitt
has to quit
in disgrace.
That’s about
the bases
loaded,
about 40,000
fans exploded.
It’s about
the ball,
the bat,
the mitt,
the bases
and the fans.
It’s done
on a diamond,
and for fun.
It’s about
home, and it’s
about run.
poem by May Swenson
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If You're Going To The Ball At All
If you're going to the ball at all,
Be prepared to be the topic of the week.
And,
Be the one prepared to leave...
Jaws dropped.
And people awed.
If you want to be the one at the ball,
To set the record straight and hear the boos...
You boo back at the ones doing it to you.
'Cause you are too far out in space.
Too ahead of time and first place in the race.
And you're too much! Too soon...
Delivering a taste people have yet to crave.
And too amazing to be dismissed as the next rage.
If you're going to the ball at all,
Be prepared to be the topic of the week.
And,
Be the one prepared to leave...
Jaws dropped.
And people awed by your technique that will be copied.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A man's first wife never complains of neglect from the penis, the first morsel never complains of insufficient sauce.
One Meat Ball
(l. singer-h.zaret)
The little man walked up and down
To find an eating place in town
He read the menu through and through
To see what fifteen cents could do
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
He told the waiter near at hand
A simple dinner he had planned
The guests were startled one and all to hear
That waiter loudly call
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, this here gent wants one meat ball
Little man felt very bad
One meat ball was all he had
And in his dreams he hears that call
Ya gets no bread with one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, you get no bread with one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
All he could afford was one meat ball
One meat ball
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He complains early that complains of his kail.
Everyone complains of his memory, and nobody complains of his judgment.
quote by Francois de La Rochefoucauld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passion governs
My mother dropped the glass.
My wife dropped the glass.
My servant dropped the glass
My child dropped the glass.
My sweetheart dropped the glass
I dropped the glass.
My reactions are different.
The depth of passion governs.
01.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Dimensional
A frost-bitten tree
carried bare back
the fate of a thousand winters.
A transformed cloud
still withers away,
whether by rain or snow,
it can't win.
Stuck between your rock,
and his hard place. My
Sun, never seems to set.
Fate has had at it,
and now bounces the ball towards
a new direction. One in which
Love finds harmony in the serenity
of solitude, but lust is just foreboding
me.
poem by Ryan Arthur Walker
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Fifteen
You curl, you know how to curl,
Yes you know a curl in your hair
And you curl yourself like a
Hair, in your bed,
It is so cold and no one
Sleeps here
No one comes
There is no hello
As guest and no
Hi to pretend
You are coming
Well, you curl, you know how to curl,
Like your hair,
This time, curl forever,
Nothing straight till the end,
Eternal curl,
Still
Touch it
It bounces and re-bounces,
touch it again,
and be silent
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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For Ball
At home
my dog and child
play the foot ball
Dog kick the ball
Clild also kick
Ball was...
Run to run...
Suddnley dog
Bite the ball
The ball was blast...
Chil was cry
Dog was wow...wow...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Village Green
ON the cheerful village green,
Skirted round with houses small,
All the boys and girls are seen,
Playing there with hoop and ball.
Now they frolic hand in hand,
Making many a merry chain;
Then they form a warlike band,
Marching o'er the level plain.
Now ascends the worsted ball,
High it rises in the air,
Or against the cottage wall,
Up and down it bounces there.
Then the hoop, with even pace,
Runs before the merry throngs;
Joy is seen in every face,
Joy is heard in cheerful songs.
Rich array, and mansions proud,
Gilded toys, and costly fare,
Would not make the little crowd
Half so happy as they are.
Then, contented with my state,
Where true pleasure may be seen,
Let me envy not the great,
On a cheerful village green.
poem by Ann Taylor
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It Is A Joke
it is a joke
and it will always be
a joke
that how it is,
it is a joke, my own joke, and i laugh
when i remember it,
i send it to you and you send it back
like a ping-pong ball
it bounces and i see it coming
back to me
it hits me right in my eyes
got double vision, cross-eyed
i am hurt. It is not a joke anymore.
it is here beside
a tear, a bruise, stained and scarred.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Man's Life
The things that take place in a man's life sometimes affect his children,
That is why it is better to do the right thing always in life;
Because the ball thrown against the wall sometimes bounces back to us!
Being tried and tested,
And being abused in the forest of the tigers! !
But the Creator is always there for us all on this earth that we live in.
A man's life,
Instead of bronze i will bring you gold for your love;
But in all things, let us first give thanks to the Creator Almighty.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Village Green
On the cheerful village green,
Skirted round with houses small,
All the boys and girls are seen,
Playing there with hoop and ball.
Now they frolic hand in hand,
Making many a merry chain;
Then they form a warlike band,
Marching o'er the level plain.
Now ascends the worsted ball,
High it rises in the air,
Or against the cottage wall,
Up and down it bounces there.
Then the hoop, with even pace,
Runs before the merry throngs;
Joy is seen in every face,
Joy is heard in cheerful songs.
Rich array, and mansions proud,
Gilded toys, and costly fare,
Would not make the little crowd
Half so happy as they are.
Then, contented with my state,
Where true pleasure may be seen,
Let me envy not the great,
On a cheerful village green.
poem by Jane Taylor
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The Game
On such an occasion,
Why do I say: 'Not Today'?
I don't refuse to play
But I don't like your game,
Isn't that clear?
The climate is not ready
When the conditions are only
That I accept the weather your way!
Forgive me if I don't accept
Your invitation to another round
But I would soon tear
The sticky net down
For it makes anything
To have two sides,
Attractive only to spiders and flies
And I want that curtain between us
Definitely to fall...
If it is up to me,
Boldly, I would drop
That invisible wall
And get rid of the nuisance
Once and for all...
It is as if I have an opponent
Serving me ball after ball
But I won't return them,
I want a recall! ...
I don't wish to continue the game,
The ball has dropped in my court, I see!
Do you wish me to throw it back?
And begin the same game again?
Yes, I may be a poor sportsman
But I am very bored
And I will not play this game
The same way anymore...
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Them Heavy People
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
They arrived at an inconvenient time.
I was hiding in a room in my mind.
They made me look at myself. I saw it well.
Id shut the people out of my life.
So now I take the opportunities:
Wonderful teachers ready to teach me.
I must work on my mind. for now I realise:
Everyone of us has a heaven inside.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Them heavy people help me.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
They open doorways that I thought were shut for good.
They read me gurdjieff and jesu.
They build up my body, break me emotionally.
Its nearly killing me, but what a lovely feeling!
I love the whirling of the dervishes.
I love the beauty of rare innocence.
You dont need no crystal ball,
Dont fall for a magic wand.
We humans got it all, we perform the miracles.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Them heavy people help me.
Them heavy people hit me in a soft spot.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball to me.
Rolling the ball, rolling the ball...
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birther
Sit in dark rooms
as Fox news
complains
that the President
is really from Mars.
He’s hell-bent on preventing
our Saturday-nights
from being
special.
We have the Constitutional right
to carry death
like a flask
in our hip pockets.
But this foreigner
wags his black finger
and calmly spews
sense
like spit
on our red necks.
So the plan is to wait
patiently
until the day
all these bleeding hearts
are dropped, one by one,
by lone
assassins,
and in the end,
alone in our darkness,
we…will…win.
poem by Steven Federle
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I don’t know if God plays ball
I don’t know if God plays ball
soccer or foosball or bacci ball.
Well, I’m a Frenchman and
boules is the name of my game.
Being on the ball is like playing
with Gigi little girls. When God
created Eve I wonder did He
have in mind dirty old men
and did He mean putting man
behind the eight ball
and did He know that eons later
round the corner of the square ball
someone hooks up with
a hooded guy who sells 3.5 grams
of meth and coke and damn,
that 8 ball is already gone!
I wish I had another!
I start singin’ a tune, I don't drink
brass monkey, like to be funky
and my name ain’t Eazy-E
your 8 ball junkie.
We did an eight ball of blow and
danced until next morning.
I ain’t never goin’ out
With an eight-ball Chiquita
Cuz I got balls and I ain’t
givin’ her mine and
she ain’t playin’ with mine.
I wish God had more balls
and my brain marinate
in mothballs.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Aug©2010
AD Something
poem by Alex Nodopaka
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Ball & Chain
I've been on this roller coaster just too many times
And always it seems like
The blind keep on leading the blind
Tried to get them on the 'phone
Tried to find my way back home
Tned and failed, and tried and failed, again
But baby i don't want you 'cos you look so good
I don't want you 'cos i know i should
I don't want you to come in f rom the rain
I want you to be my ball and chain
I want you to be my ball and chain
Ah just lately i've been roaming from town to town
I've been setting them up, setting them up
And i've been knocking them down
I was born to live, it seems, a fugitive dream
Make things always better than they seem
And i stop and start, and stop and start
And stop and start again
Baby i don't want you for your money
I don't want you 'cos i love you honey
I don't want you to ease this memory pain
No, i want you to be my ball and chain
Yes, i want you to be my, be my ball and chain
When i see you in the garden once again
Baby you'll be standing in the summer rain
Laugh and cry and say what it's all about
You can even jump and shout
And you'll smile and say how are you again
I don't want you 'cos i'm so blue
I don't want you 'cos you know what to do
I don't want you because all my love seems in vain
I want you to be my ball and chain
I want you to be my ball and chain
I want you to be my ball and chain
I want you to be my ball and chain
Oh, be my ball and chain
Be my ball and chain, be my ball and chain
Oh, be my ball and chain
I want you.....ball and chain, etc.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Demand
Demand a ball of the year
That bounces when your sight
Has spent a pound.
Demand it out of luck for your body and mind.
This pound I spend, do not condemn it,
As the thief has been committed to praise.
My left wounds are the right,
As coins are like pains to collect.
We are indebted to your efforts
As many as there are in the world.
My options are sacred, my options are banned,
For the torture of the day is solid
And worse troubles may sway, for the only
Trouble has limited my life.
poem by Naveed Akram
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