I can't very well tell my batters don't hit it to him. Wherever they hit it, he's there anyway.
quote by Gil Hodges
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Striking out batters was easy.
quote by George Herman
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Happiness is brief. It will not stay. God batters at its sails.
Anybody's best pitch is the one the batters ain't hitting that day.
quote by Christy Mathewson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have observed that baseball is not unlike a war, and when you come right down to it, we batters are the heavy artillery.
I threw a lot of balls and walked a lot of batters. Not something I'm proud of, but something I learned from.
quote by Randy Johnson
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Twenty games is the magic figure for pitchers - .300 is the magic figures for batters. It pays off in salary and reputation. And those are the two things that keep a ballplayer in business.
quote by Warren Spahn
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As soon as I got out there I felt a strange relationship with the pitcher's mound. It was as if I'd been born out there. Pitching just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Striking out batters was easy.
Found Poem: Today's Headlines from YAHOO News
Rescuers race to free trapped submarine,
Space shuttle undocks, heads for home,
Passenger jet goes down in sea off Sicily,
Hiroshima marks atomic bomb anniversary,
British government defends crackdown plan,
Typhoon batters China,1.24 million evacuated,
Mel Gibson asked to stage Christ's crucifixion.
Working Together-A Field of Dreams
Miracles do come true
Just for a day
My son and daughter
Teamwork our way
Basepaths to be exact
Tillin from morn' till dawn
Tearing, ripping up the back yard
Our own stadium
Our own lawn
Working together
Not too often
For today and a brief venture
Soul revival
Through the heated sky
Felt great to be with them
Too busy too often
To hear their voices
Dad this is awesome
Homeplate
A pitchers mound
Batters box
Gettin' rid of the rocks
Streched hose
Water down the accomplished
Field of dreams
In our own
Backyard
poem by Matt Mondschein
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She Is Not Charming But..!
She is not charming
but has a very kindly heart;
sows seeds of love in my heart
but yearns for the flower,
that is my heart.
I have no mind
to receive her golden heart;
nor any design to present
my unworthy heart to her;
I told her, 'you are my sibling! '
She left all broken.
Another girl with no grandeur of heart
but with glitter and sparkle all over her body,
with a condescending look
goes avoiding me, twitching her face;
I run after her;
Think of holding fast her legs;
'The sibling' philosophy
conveniently I set aside!
Enslave myself to external charms
that batters my reason to numbness
and inflames my lust to furious fires!
O God..tell me-
Why have you left in men
such a flimsy ungraceful heart?
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Bag Lady
Like a fly batters itself against a window
Time and again and again it senselessly blunders
Up and down the length of west broadway
The bag lady wanders
Fifty cents rent goes pretty far
When you live in a subway car
One stops the same as another
Even son of sam sees her sleeping,
Shes not worth the bother
Sorrow, do they ever want to cry
Do they see us pass by
Where do they come from (simple answers)
Do they come falling,
Falling from the sky like rain
Crawling up the basement drain
Misfits and black sheep
Former brothers, friends of mothers
There is no yesterday, there is no tomorrow
There is only now and that hardly matters
No one cares about sad old ladies
With bags full of tatters
One day it gets a bit too cold
Maybe a little too wet, maybe a little too lonely
Lifelessly she lies amidst her bag world
But maybe shes only sleeping
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From The Shore
A lone gray bird,
Dim-dipping, far-flying,
Alone in the shadows and grandeurs and tumults
Of night and the sea
And the stars and storms.
Out over the darkness it wavers and hovers,
Out into the gloom it swings and batters,
Out into the wind and the rain and the vast,
Out into the pit of a great black world,
Where fogs are at battle, sky-driven, sea-blown,
Love of mist and rapture of flight,
Glories of chance and hazards of death
On its eager and palpitant wings.
Out into the deep of the great dark world,
Beyond the long borders where foam and drift
Of the sundering waves are lost and gone
On the tides that plunge and rear and crumble.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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For The Turnstiles
All the sailors with their seasick mamas
Hear the sirens on the shore,
Singin songs for pimps with tailors
Who charge ten dollars at the door.
You can really learn a lot that way
It will change you in the middle of the day.
Though your confidence may be shattered,
It doesnt matter.
All the great explorers
Are now in granite laid, (in granite lake? )
Under white sheets for the great unveiling
At the big parade.
You can really learn a lot that way
It will change you in the middle of the day.
Though your confidence may be shattered,
It doesnt matter.
All the bushleague batters
Are left to die on the diamond.
In the stands the home crowd scatters
For the turnstiles,
For the turnstiles,
For the turnstiles.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rome
O thou newcomer who seek’st Rome in Rome
And find’st in Rome no thing thou canst call Roman;
Arches worn old and palaces made common
Rome’s name alone within these walls keeps home.
Behold how pride and ruin can befall
One who hath set the whole world ’neath her laws,
All-conquering, now conquered, because
She is Time’s prey, and Time conquereth all.
Rome that art Rome’s one sole last monument,
Rome that alone hast conquered Rome the town,
Tiber alone, transient and seaward bent,
Remains of Rome. O world, thou unconstant mime!
That which stands firm in thee Time batters down,
And that which fleeteth doth outrun swift Time.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Motorcycle Landscape
On a hanging garden ------
----------- [babylon seat]
------------- [baby batters]
----------------------- [weak]
---------- [hope you be great]
And the children have said their backbones
Will hurt you if you think
For there is a dolls arm
Floating in the scum
And its calling you over
While its calling you a bum
And it beckons you to frown
And it beckons you to brown
And it thinks its found a
Chance to build another real
Motorcycle landscape
The only thing that watches there
-----------[nails] are bloody red
On a -------------------------
[come to] ----------- are dead
All that we can read while
---------- are girlie magazines
For their [jest] theyre save your wrapper
Girls arent in their teens
[billions can sleep while hold to]
[fields of meanless wire]
Do the kids in----------------------
------------- on the fire]
[though ------ to marriage
[stabbed of broken bliss]
[shade ---------------------
[some them were] like this
For there is a dolls arm floating in the scum
And its calling you over while its calling you a bum
Motorcycle landscape
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Metho Drinker
Under the death of winter's leaves he lies
who cried to Nothing and the terrible night
to be his home and bread. 'O take from me
the weight and waterfall ceaseless Time
that batters down my weakness; the knives of light
whose thrust I cannot turn; the cruelty
of human eyes that dare not touch nor pity.'
Under the worn leaves of the winter city
safe in the house of Nothing now he lies.
His white and burning girl, his woman of fire,
creeps to his heart and sets a candle there
to melt away the flesh that hides from bone,
to eat the nerve that tethers him in time.
He will lie warm until the bone is bare
and on a dead dark moon he wakes alone.
It was for Death he took her; death is but this;
and yet he is uneasy under her kiss
and winces from that acid of her desire.
poem by Judith Wright
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5. A Punch-up
Punch and Judy always fighting
Crocodile is always biting
Baby crying Punch looks rough
Judy says she’s had enough
She leaves Punch to baby mind
He’s lost baby cannot find
Searching high and searching low
Punch thinks Judy mustn’t know
Judy’s back she had a hunch
With a stick she batters Punch
Policeman comes to stop the fighting
Sausages the croc is biting
Punch arrested took to jail
Judy searching starts to wail
Baby found beneath a bush
Fast asleep a little hush
Judy goes back to the station
Told the police with much elation
Punch released it made him smile
Till he got chased home by the crocodile
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Fortuna
Cloaked in mystery and an ineffable air,
She bestows favours with comical whimsy,
Providing luck without regard or care,
Her reason notoriously hard to see.
They say she favours the bold,
Is attracted to courage and daring,
But isn't moved by prayers or gold,
Nor begging or swearing.
Sometimes she helps us in our darkest hours,
Sometimes she kicks us when we are face down in the dirt,
Sometimes she turns all that is sweet sour,
Sometimes she soothes our pain and hurt.
Sometimes she guides us home when we've lost our way,
Sometimes she frees us from hopeless stagnation,
Sometimes she beguiles and leads us astray,
Sometimes she robs us of our joy and elation.
Sometimes she whispers temptations only to dance away,
Sometimes she caresses us only to make us numb,
Sometimes she gives us the strength to face a new day,
Sometimes she batters us till we are senseless and dumb.
She is the Blind Beauty of Fickleness,
The Ambivalent Divinity of Luck,
The Capricious Goddess of Justice,
The Impulsive Empress of Treasures and Muck.
Ginger
something infests me when I'm alone
it's lunacy
I want to vomit, spit out my life
so queer is seems
retract your reverence and slander me
I'm the traitor of mine
a close-up picture of my lost chastity
there's nothing left of me anymore
and no rain can wash away those bloody tears
as sweet sounds of destruction reach my ears
red lips like roses call my name
but laughter is all the woman of now hears
in gloom I wander, it batters me
though I subsist of it
the smell of incense arouses me
abeyance maddens me
a ginger sunset is my caress
as I expire
as music's fading I fade within
there's nothing left of me anymore
and no rain can wash away those bloody tears
as sweet sounds of destruction reach my ears
red lips like roses call my name
but laughter is all the woman of now hears
song performed by by Xandria
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XXVI)
Job Spoke Again And Said:
How do you help the weak from harm?
How do you strengthen weak an arm?
How counsel you as if unwise?
How profusely do you advice?
In terror writhe the shades beneath,
And so do people and waters;
His thunder-like rebuke stuns them;
In ways untold, all He batters.
Stark-naked lies the nether world;
Uncovered stays Abaddon old;
The north is stretched in empty space;
The earth hangs without any base!
He binds the waters within clouds,
And yet, their weight can’t rent their shrouds;
He spreads the clouds to veil the moon
That’s full and bright, yet, covered soon;
Darkness and light can’t mix in deep;
His voice quakes Heaven’s pillars steep;
He stirs the sea by His power,
And crushes Rahab like flower.
Scatters waters, His angry breath
Hurls lightning on them ’neath!
His anger is so relentless;
He holds the dragon in harness.
These are but samples of His ways;
How faintly man hears what He says!
With whose help utter you such word?
Does not your breath come from the Lord?
(5-7-2007)
poem by John Celes
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