Meaningful games
The air of September has turned crisp and clean,
with a hint of past autumns remembered,
as I take the field with the rest of the team
to battle the other contender.
Just like a knuckleball released to the plate
Our season has seemed to meander
In May we seemed sure of a World Series date-
But now the blogs call us pretenders.
The lead we enjoyed in June and July
has steadily melted away.
bad luck and the heat had led to defeats
while our foes seem to gain every day.
The faces around me are a mix old and new.
Some friends have been traded away-
or waived on the wire, which was needed, no doubt.
I just hope these new call ups can play.
But there is no room for self pity or doubt
While our chance at the playoffs remains
There are so many players whose dreams are long dead
while we still play meaningful games.
This poem may be about the 2008 New York Mets. Certainly the title was inspired by a statement made by Mets owner, Fred Wilpon. The speaker may be David Wright. It is also possible that this poem is using the baseball season as an extended metaphor.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Meaningful Games 2
Meaningful games
The air of September has turned crisp and clean,
with a hint of past autumns remembered,
as I take the field with the rest of the team
to battle the other contender.
Just like a knuckleball released to the plate
Our season has seemed to meander
In May we seemed sure of a World Series date-
But now the blogs call us pretenders.
The lead we enjoyed in June and July
has steadily melted away.
bad luck and the heat had led to defeats
while our foes seem to gain every day.
The faces around me are a mix old and new.
Some friends have been traded away-
or waived on the wire, which was needed, no doubt.
I just hope these new call ups can play.
But there is no room for self pity or doubt
While our chance at the playoffs remains
There are so many players whose dreams are long dead
while we still play meaningful games.
This poem may be about the 2008 New York Mets. Certainly the title was inspired by a statement made by Mets owner, Fred Wilpon. The speaker may be David Wright. It is also possible that this poem is using the baseball season as an extended metaphor.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Taking Dad to a Game
The Polo Grounds, when the Field’s first seen
are a most magical shade of green.
Hand in hand, me and my Dad
head for our seats in the right field stands.
It’s the Cincinnati Reds in town
to play the New York Mets.
There’s a double header scheduled,
How much better could it get?
Cincinnati took the first game
by a score of three to nil.
My hot dog was delicious
Dad had a beer to swill.
The nightcap was a wild affair
The Mets won thirteen- twelve.
You could look it up, as Casey said,
if you should care to delve.
We rode the subway home that night
side by side, me and my Dad.
We reminisced about the game
Like the most knowledgeable fans
The Q44 from Flushing took us
up Queensboro Hill, ,
past Carvel and Booth Memorial,
I remember it well still.
My father turned to look at me
as five decades creased my brow.
Making us the self same age
What he was then, so I am now.
Thirty years, about, its been
Since last I saw my Dad.
The dead don't get to baseball games,
Which I think is rather sad.
They can't enjoy a summer night
on the wrong side of the grass.
And an ice cold beer is greatly missed-
They can't pour themselves a glass
In memory, we still can walk
With those who came before.
So I took my Dad to a baseball game
What was I waiting for?
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mets-moi dessus la mer d'où le soleil se lève
Mets-moi dessus la mer d'où le soleil se lève,
Ou près du bord de l'onde où sa flamme s'éteint ;
Mets-moi au pays froid, où sa chaleur n'atteint,
Ou sur les sablons cuits que son chaud rayon grève ;
Mets-moi en long ennui, mets-moi en joie brève,
En franche liberté, en servage contraint ;
Soit que libre je sois, ou prisonnier rétreint,
En assurance, ou doute, ou en guerre ou en trêve ;
Mets-moi au pied plus bas ou sur les hauts sommets
Des monts plus élevés, ô Méline, et me mets
En une triste nuit ou en gaie lumière ;
Mets-moi dessus le ciel, dessous terre mets-moi,
Je serai toujours même, et ma dernière foi
Se trouvera toujours pareille à la première.
poem by Jean Antoine de Baif
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Keystone State of mind- song parody
Parody of New York State of mind
Some folks though we’d get away
Take a Holiday from the neighborhood
Hop a Flight out to Disneyland
Play the series in the Angel’s hood
But I’m stuck here in traffic
Out on Route I- 95
I’m in a Keystone state of mind
We’ve seen all those Dodgers
Leave in their 25 separate Limousines
Froze our ass in the Rockies
Beating a better team
Now you know who we’re facing
And I’m not going to waste your time
I’m in a Keystone State of Mind
It was so easy winning day by day
When the New York Mets limped into town
But I’m afraid things might not go our way
when the New York Yankees bat around.
I root for a Philly team that has lost more times
Than any other team playing any sport
I root for a team that’s named for a female horse.
I come from a city that snowballs
Santa Claus
I’m in a Keystone State of Mind
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early Works - Bob And June
If this world should ever end
in the next we’d still be friends
for though we are from different walks of life
with different worries and strife
we combined together in strength of force
with friendship as a straight and narrow course.
Bob is the youngest of us all
isn’t very tall, but his friendship
is something you cannot explain
it’s true and sound, something profound.
June, Bob’s wife I’ve not known that long
has given me friendship and hope that’s strong
that’s why when together in a room
all sadness by happy faces and laughter is consumed.
Though our world is changing rapidly
our friendship will remain constantly
for our friendship will never break
of this make no mistake
for ours is a true friendship rarely found
in this world that revolves around.
That’s why this poem of friendship does conclude
my tribute to Bob and June.
Date unknown. (Probably early 1970s)
Authors note:
The sad note to this poem only recently found is that June died a few years ago of cancer. Bob afterward withdrew from friends and family until his whereabouts at present is unknown. I believe that we will meet again whether it is in this world or the next.
poem by David Harris
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The Seven
From the time his boy could stand
The Dad had brought him on the Seven.
To see the Mets they both would go,
before he'd even learned to throw.
All through his childhood and past his teens.
They'd entrain to their field of dreams.
Their Mets found many ways to lose-
most years they had godawful teams.
So soon it was his time to go.
Children grow (Time flies they say) -
His son now has his place downtown
A few short miles and a world away.
Opening day is magical
once more it found them in the stands
Cheering loud, their voices hoarse,
as their team booked yet another loss.
After the excitement of the game
waiting on the platform for their trains
The two men hugged with obvious affection,
then entrained in opposite directions.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm A Fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Spread that ball across the field
Football season again
I’m a fan
Through the cold and the rain
I’ll be there at the game
A voice screaming to be heard
I’ll cry sometimes, sometimes I’ll smile
As my voice echoes through the crowd
I’m a fan, I’m a fan, I’m a fan
It’s football season again
I hope my team does well this year
Football season again
I’m a fan
It’s football season again
Tackle hard and play it fair
Football season again
I’m a fan
And at the end of the year
We’ll be dressed in the gear
As they turn to salute the crowd
And we’ll stand with pride
‘Cause they’re our side
And we’ll sing their praises loud
We’re the fans, We’re the fans, We’re the fans
Copyright Colin Coplin 2004 / 2010
poem by Colin Coplin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The one game we all play
The one game we all play
We play games
To show our valour
And mainly to win
We do not mind going for coaching
If we feel we do not have the
Required strength to win
We play games
Either as a team or individual
The attempt is to demonstrate
That we are better talented
Than the team or member
Against whom we play
Nations enthuse people to play games
So that they add pride
Some games are played with
Gadgets and protective accessories
We have spectators to watch
The way we play
We have umpires and referees
Who ensure rules of the games
Are strictly adhered
And it is all a fair play
We play games indoor or outdoor
We play games in daylight
Or under artificial illumination
We score while playing
And the score achieved by a team or individual
In a specific time
Decides the winner
We telecast the games
We comment on the strengths and weaknesses
Of a team or individual
We conduct national and international
Tournaments to declare a team or individual
As champion
Irrespective of skills, race, gender
We all play a game
Which is played mainly to lose
It is an individual game
With no specific rules
With no umpire
With no spectator
With no commentator
With no TV coverage
With no scores
With no trophies
With no victory stands
With no top scorer
With no “player of the match”
But we play
Most of us like to play this game
Indoor and in closed doors
Decency and civilized ways
Do not allow this game being played in the open
There is no season for this game
It can be played any part of the day
And any part of the year
Summer, winter, monsoon seasons
Have no bearing on this game
The one requirement in this game is
Complete transparency and intimacy
Rules for this game
Vary from individual to individual
Rules also get refined
With the experience of the players
There are no restrictions to employ
Any method as both the players
Are determined to be the loser
Duration of play depends again
On the individuals
The game ends
Most often to the satisfaction
Of the both the players
In other games players declare
That they are retiring from playing
There is no retirement in this game
As players advance in age
They understand it is more a mind game
Outcome of this game
Are further more players
You guessed it right
It is the game of love
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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A Poem Is A Play In Mood
A poem is a play in mood
A possible position in feeling
An exercise in trying out one's thought
In another direction-
A poem is not the single final statement of all one feels
But only one statement of one possibility one might feel -
A poem is a play in mood
And a game of the mind
And a possibility -
I play these lines down now
As if this statement too were a game
Which means far less and far more
Than its own meaning can seem.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Unknown Boy
January 7th,2008 12: 00am-12: 45am
By: Michelle Peck
Your personality shines bright,
Like sitting in pure light.
When you smile,
It brings joy to my ears,
And makes my eyes go clear.
When I see your eyes,
It makes me cry because they are not mine.
I watch you play your sports,
And I see all kinds of sorts,
Or wonderful things I love.
Football season comes,
And I see you less and less,
My heart breaks in two,
Because of you.
Basketball season comes around,
And I might see you on the ground.
I see you more and more,
Because I see you in the mornings,
And at your games.
My heart isn’t broken,
Because I see you smoking,
The other team.
After you’re done I say,
“Good job” and keep wishing you were mine.
The way you choose your friends,
Makes my smile bend.
Without you,
I couldn’t write this poem to tell you,
How I feel about you.
poem by Michelle Peck
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem.
I do not like the silly poem,
I do not like the angsty poem,
I do not like the ridiculous poem,
I do not like the damned poem,
I do not like the cheesy poem,
I do not like the random poem,
Or the epic poem,
Or the dandy poem,
Or the long poem,
Or the short poem,
Or the stupid poem,
Or the rude poem,
Or the useless poem,
Or the wordless poem,
Or the poem poem,
Or the poem poem's daughter,
Or the word, Poem,
I like the story.
poem by David Carter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hoop Dreams
Man i had a crazy crazy dream dogg.
I had a dream i was in the nba straight playin basketball.
Nba straight getting my ball on dogg.
Can you imagine?
Snoop dogg in the nba?
Imagine that, hoop doggy dogg.
Yea straight ballin.
You know i'm a ball anyway so why not.
Let me get my ball on.
If i could play in the nba
I would be that six-four all day shootin that trey
I dribbled to the outside and passed it to shaq
They double teamed on him so he passed it back
Look at the 3 but i don't take the shot
Cause i think i'm cold and i aint trying to get hot
I'm feelin bionic, we playing the sonics
And i'm sticking gary payton so you know i'm ball hatin
Bang on vin baker cause real lakers really don't care yea yea
Next stop in the court on damon toast stouda and my homeboy j.r. rider
Minnesota timberwolves, we cut 'em down
Hakeem olajuwon and scottie pippen, we shut 'em down
The twin towers, dave and duncan
20 in the paint fool you get's nothing
On a four game roll sweep, beep beep
We beat the bulls and we rocked the heat
And we traded for a few players, some pacers
Miller and mullin and now they lakers
We cant be beat now, we on a 27 game win streak now, bow wow
When it all started from a dream
I'm playin point guard on my favorite team (lakers)
I got the big perm, doing interviews with chick herm
At stu lance, we do a dance
When it rains poppin shampane
Basketball yes yall thats the game
Two years ago a friend of mine
Ask me to glide from the free throw line
So i took the ball, and as i made the hoop
Everybody jumped up and they said "go snoop"
And my career jumped off into the fast lane
My rookie season i made my first all star game
Double g like george gervin, thats what the call me cause i'm so ice
Ballin cause that's my life, i balls all day, and i balls all night
They call me snoop dogg and everybody know i love to hustle and ball
The season gettin tragic we lost to the magic
And the word is that rodman done had it
So i guess it on a young homie, the great number 8, mr. koby
Give him the ball dogg he ready
We got to play charlotte tonight, i'm stickin eddie
Remember all the good times that we had
Cuz dont trip to long cause tommorow we play the jazz
Then it on to play the denver nuggets
The homeboy nick they traded, but damn i still love 'em
Keep a picture of 'em on the wall next to dr. j
Meach, i love basketball
Allen iverson on the fly boy he hard to stick
C webb comin through with a quick pick
The nba saturday mornings hey or maybe on a sunday
We in the playoffs so stay off the court
This aint no game, this a sport
And we in it to win it, we ballin, no limit
Remember this
When i grow up on wanted to be a point guard playing on nbc
With herb and suge or pistol pete or world b. free givin dap to me
Givin up my dues with converse shoes
And tellin all the kids to stay in school
This is true and your dreams can come true
If it happen to me, it can happen to you
That's for all the nba players that dream of being a rapper.
I'm a rapper that dreams of being a nba player and i'm a baller.
Let's bounce up out of here man.
song performed by by Snoop Dogg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poem Is A Metaphor
THE POEM IS A METAPHOR
The Poem is a Metaphor
It means ‘the world’
It means ‘all that there is’
It means ‘the soul’
It means ‘our deepest feeling’.
The Poem is a Metaphor
It is more than what it just appears to be
It takes on a life of its own
It says more than it can define itself as
The Poem is a Metaphor
And it itself does not understand
Where it began and how it will end
And whether or not
It should always be rewritten.
The Poem is a Metaphor
And we too are metaphors
That will vanish one day
When all the real Poems
Pretend to still be here.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Call The Man
Close the door
Shut the world away
All the fight's gone from this wounded heart
Across the floor
Dreams and shadows play
Like wind blown refugees
Call the man
Who deals in love beyond repair
He can heal the world
Of hearts in need of care
Shine a light ahead
When the next step is unclear
Call the man
He's needed here
I close my eyes
I remember when
Your sweet love filled this empty room
The tears I cry
Won't bring it back again
Unless the lonely star should fall
Call the man
Who deals in love beyond repair
He can heal the world
Of hearts in need of care
Shine a light ahead
When the next step is unclear
Call the man
He's needed here
Needed in the chaos and confusion
From the plains to city hall
Needed where the proud who walk the wire are set to fall
Call the man
Who deals in once upon a time
Maybe he
Can mend this broken heart of mine
Shine a light ahead
Now the future isn't clear
Call the man
He's needed here
Call the man
He's needed here
He's needed here
He's needed here
Call the man
He's needed here
Right here right now
song performed by by Celine Dion from Falling Into You
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hoop Dreams (He Got Game)
Man I had a crazy crazy dream dogg.
I had a dream I was in the nba straight playin basketball.
Nba straight getting my ball on dogg.
Can you imagine?
Snoop dogg in the nba?
Imagine that, hoop doggy dogg.
Yea straight ballin.
You know Im a ball anyway so why not.
Let me get my ball on.
If I could play in the nba
I would be that six-four all day shootin that trey
I dribbled to the outside and passed it to shaq
They double teamed on him so he passed it back
Look at the 3 but I dont take the shot
Cause I think Im cold and I aint trying to get hot
Im feelin bionic, we playing the sonics
And Im sticking gary payton so you know Im ball hatin
Bang on vin baker cause real lakers really dont care yea yea
Next stop in the court on damon toast stouda and my homeboy j.r. rider
Minnesota timberwolves, we cut em down
Hakeem olajuwon and scottie pippen, we shut em down
The twin towers, dave and duncan
20 in the paint fool you gets nothing
On a four game roll sweep, beep beep
We beat the bulls and we rocked the heat
And we traded for a few players, some pacers
Miller and mullin and now they lakers
We cant be beat now, we on a 27 game win streak now, bow wow
When it all started from a dream
Im playin point guard on my favorite team (lakers)
I got the big perm, doing interviews with chick herm
At stu lance, we do a dance
When it rains poppin shampane
Basketball yes yall thats the game
Two years ago a friend of mine
Ask me to glide from the free throw line
So I took the ball, and as I made the hoop
Everybody jumped up and they said "go snoop"
And my career jumped off into the fast lane
My rookie season I made my first all star game
Double g like george gervin, thats what the call me cause Im so ice
Ballin cause thats my life, I balls all day, and I balls all night
They call me snoop dogg and everybody know I love to hustle and ball
The season gettin tragic we lost to the magic
And the word is that rodman done had it
So I guess it on a young homie, the great number 8, mr. koby
Give him the ball dogg he ready
We got to play charlotte tonight, Im stickin eddie
Remember all the good times that we had
Cuz dont trip to long cause tommorow we play the jazz
Then it on to play the denver nuggets
The homeboy nick they traded, but damn I still love em
Keep a picture of em on the wall next to dr. j
Meach, I love basketball
Allen iverson on the fly boy he hard to stick
C webb comin through with a quick pick
The nba saturday mornings hey or maybe on a sunday
We in the playoffs so stay off the court
This aint no game, this a sport
And we in it to win it, we ballin, no limit
Remember this
When I grow up on wanted to be a point guard playing on nbc
With herb and suge or pistol pete or world b. free givin dap to me
Givin up my dues with converse shoes
And tellin all the kids to stay in school
This is true and your dreams can come true
If it happen to me, it can happen to you
Thats for all the nba players that dream of being a rapper.
Im a rapper that dreams of being a nba player and Im a baller.
Lets bounce up out of here man.
song performed by by Snoop Dogg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poem A Poem
A poem a poem
I shall have it by tonight
A poem a poem
It is my will to wright
A poem a poem
It's the freedom of expression
A poem a poem
This is my obsession
A poem a poem
Its more than just a wright
A poem a poem
Its a love that is right!
poem by Drew Swartz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem fascinate me
Poem fascinate me
And I call rain come
With a poem
And rain come with poem.
I call bird
And bird fly away.
Poem fascinate me.
I am not going
To let the poet go
I let go all hope
I let go all desire
And all metaphor.
Poem fascinate me
And I remain alone
I am alone
Emotion is with me
Poem fascinate me
And I am full of emotion
And not attached.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faded Photographs
Some pictures hang upon my wall
Of baseball players from the past-
Gionfriddo’s catch of DiMaggio’s ball-
Lou Gehrig standing at the mike-
Babe Ruth pitching in the Bronx-
And the one place that links them all.
They happened at the lumberyard
The place on River Avenue
The place where Bombers came to play
Now sad, diminished, and by Fall-
a victim of the wrecking ball.
One other theme is intertwined
Within the pictures on my wall
Each enshrines the final time
These men enjoyed a curtain call..
Babe was pitching his last time
The season ender (33’)
He never pitched another game
A complete game shutout
Against the Sox.
Gehrig speaking at the mike
A hot July 4th holiday
At home plate for the final time
He stood on the unaccustomed side
Gionfriddo’s speed won the game
By making his miraculous catch
But next day he sat on the bench
And never played a game again
How bittersweet these moments are
for a scrub or a superstar
To know, at last, you’ve reached the end
To still have done the best you can.
Their time has passed, these men have died
And now their park has seen its day
I’ve only photographs to show
Perfection never fades away.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is My Poem
This is my poem of ______. (date)
This is my poem, written by myself.
This is my first poem never written.
This is my last poem now to be written.
This is the poem I would have written
if I had lived yesterday what I lived today.
This is my poem changing white light
into gold-leaf
and blue into violet.
This is my poem like a heaven twisting
and turning inside of me
all night long.
This is my poem of opening a window
to show what was always inside.
This is my poem encompassing everything
hope can bestow or chance agree with.
This is my poem of open-ended freedom.
This is my poem breathing life into motion.
This is my poem written as I wrote it
a living being.
And this is my poem ending;
but only for today..
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Little Gift Of Thanks
For Tsira Gogeshvili
Everyday across the Internet
we reach out to touch new friends.
Friends who in person
we might never see.
Our hand is held out
and at times is gratefully received.
Recently I made a new friend
who lives far away from me.
Yet when we write to one another,
she could be in the room next to me.
This little poem is written just for her.
A little gift of thanks from a friend
in a different country.
I just hope she likes it,
for Tsira this is for you from me.
10 June 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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