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
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Related quotes
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
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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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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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Evil Woman
I've seen a look of evil in your eyes
You've been filling me all full of lies
Sorrow will not change your shameful deeds
Do well best, someone else has better seen
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Now I know just what you're looking for
You want me to claim that child you bore
Well you know that it must he not be
And you know the way it got to be
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Wickedness lies in your moisten lips
Your body moves just like the crack of a whip
Blackness sleeps on top of your stray bed
Do you whish that you could see me dead
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
Evil woman, don't you play your games with me
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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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
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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
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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
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Winspiration
Winspiration
The inspiration
That drives you to win
Is
Winspiration
The question of winning comes
When we play a sport
Where winning is the ultimate goal
Defeating the other team
With a better scoring
And by fair means
This winspiration, of course,
Covers a broader range
And it includes
All games we play in life
In sports
The winning team can just walk away
From the scene and the losing team
But in life games
We need to be day in and day out
With the people with whom we play
And be with them
On a continuous relationship
Winspiration in fact provides means for us
Not only to win a game
But also gives
The people, whom were won,
A feeling that
Really they are the one
Who have won
Thus, winspiration
Creates an environment for
Win-win situation rather
A won-lost or lost-won situation
Continue to play life games
Win-inspired so that
There are only winners
All around
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Another Football Season Ending
Another football season coming to an end
not even the play offs to look forward to
still that's becoming the norm
when you support my team in Sky Blue.
But my loyalty is always going to be there
and I'm proud to be a Coventry City fan
turning up to all of the home games
and as many away matches as I can.
We'll all be miserable throughout the summer
with no interest in Cricket or Wimbledon
too busy thinking about next season
than lying on a beach in the sun.
But I'll put myself through it all again
as I have done for so many years
hoping that next season is going to be great
but knowing it'll probably end up in tears!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Games We Play
The Hollies
The Games We Play
(Allan Clarke/Tony Hicks/Graham Nash)
Track 12 (final) on album 'Evolution' june 1967
Well, I heard your mother say
what a pleasant boy you're going with.
That I don't mean any harm
and I only want to play.
Though I know she's just protecting you,
you're just a little girl.
Well, if your mother only knew the games we play.
When I take you home with me,
all the family get along with you.
Sitting all through tea,
wondering what we're gonna do.
Leaving us alone
the temptation's far too strong.
If your family only knew the games we play.
Are you sure we're getting away with this?
You cannot fool your mother or your father for long.
Only time will tell
if they are right and we are wrong.
{interlude}
Are you sure we're getting away with this?
You cannot fool your mother or your father for long.
Only time will tell
if they are right and we are wrong.
{mini interlude}
They know the games we play
there's no hiding things like this from them.
We know we're not the first
and we'll never be the last.
Everybody gets hung up,
we might have to pay,
and everybody knows the games we play.
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Same Games Played
Game players become hooked,
Until mesmerized...
To the playing of a game,
That remains the same unchanged.
It's much like the learning children do,
Of the letters in the alphabet.
Each letter is assigned something fixed,
And simplistic that sticks in their heads.
Once a game is remembered,
It doesn't matter who plays it.
But those who have chosen,
These games to play are not aware...
The testing of them occured long before,
They were born to realize...
Those same games played were always there!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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U Say, I Say
You say
I say
You say
I say
You say
I say
But now you're out there playin' games
I know that you will never change
You say that you love me
But you still be wylin' out
All of this yellin', all of this fussin'
Over just nothin', in my house
I pray to my Savior
And hope He will just help me out
'Cause all this confusion got me just bluesin'
I know what I should be doin' now, yeah, yeah
I can't lie, I (Don't wanna waste no more time)
I can't see why (You never try to do me right)
I can't lie, I (Don't wanna waste no more time)
I can't see why (You never try to do me right)
You say (That you love me)
I say (That I love you)
You say (We don't ever have to fight)
I say (I don't ever wanna cry)
You say (You will never play the field)
I say (I will always keep it real)
But now you're out there playin' games
I know that you will never change
I try to be patient
To see if you could figure out
With all of your lyin', all your denyin'
I cannot keep you around
You know that I love you
It's gonna hurt me to see you leave
I can't go through bein' misused
'Cause you know that that ain't me, yeah
I can't lie, I (Don't wanna waste no more time)
I can't see why (You never try to do me right)
I can't lie, I (Don't wanna waste no more time)
I can't see why (You never try to do me right)
You say (That you love me)
I say (That I love you)
You say (We don't ever have to fight)
I say (I don't ever wanna cry)
You say (You will never play the field)
I say (I will always keep it real)
But now you're out there playin' games
I know that you will never change
Cool with whatever 'cause it's been so long
All this nonsense you're doin' only made me strong
But if we stay together there's got to be some change
I don't even wanna hear another call your name
Cool with whatever 'cause it's been so long
All this nonsense you're doin' only made me strong
I don't think we'll be together 'cause you'll never change
Already stuck inside your ways, you'll always be the same
You say (You really love me)
I say (I really love you)
You say (We don't ever have to fight)
I say (I don't ever wanna cry)
You say (You will never play the field)
I say (That I will always keep it real)
But now you're out there playin' games
I know that you will never change
Uh-uh, yeah
Yo', Ashanti, INC
Murder Inc
Uh-uh, uh-uh
Chinky Deek
And of course Milwaukee
song performed by by Ashanti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big match tomorrow
Really big game on Saturday
playing a team at the top
told my mates to be there
let the women go to the shops.
The club is having a bad season
losing more games than we win
so we need to get really behind them
and they need to play out of their skin.
Being at the bottom is depressing
that's why fans are staying away
but we love our football club
that's why we'll be there on Saturday.
The away fans will be full of themselves
and to them it will be a great day out
because their team will be favourites
and they'll think it will be easy no doubt.
So we'll make lots of noise and never shut up
and keep on singing till our throats are sore
because that's what a true football fan does
they keep on going even when the team is poor.
So I'll keep my fingers crossed that we win
if we do I'll be really happy on Saturday night
not only because my team was victorious
but I'll be leaving the pub as high as a kite!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Sex Games
I know you're lying all alone
Waiting for my call
To tell me that your body's craving me
Well the phone's not enough tonight
Let's make this reality
[1] - We can do the things that you don't get to do
Cause you lay all alone
Just let me sit here and watch you strip
For me cause I know I get you off
[2] - Is it too late to come on over?
And play sex games
Is it too late to slide on over?
And play sex games
Sex games
song performed by by Case from Open Letter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Questions About Football
why are there games only on Mondays and Sundays?
where do the pro teams get all the money to pay the players?
can the jerseys be more creative?
are the player’s families mad that they have to play on holidays like Thanksgiving?
are there really dead bodies under Tennessee’s football field?
is Brady the best QB in the NFL right now?
how is Ray Lewis so hard-hitting?
do you want to be in the pro’s some day?
would you want to be tackled by Ray Lewis?
it is the end of the playoffs, what will the NFL do now?
why is Favre still playing?
why are high school football ref’s so bad?
can’t we afford descent ones?
poem by Sawyer Rothmann
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Children Playing
Children playing in the street
Dirty face and dirty feet
Skipping ropes and singing songs
This will last all summer long
Fresh air as there playing out
Keeps them fit as they run about
Games they play I know so well
As my journey back to my childhood dreams
Remembering the days no money about
All us kids just played out
Ancient games our parents would play
I still remember to this day
Skipping ropes tug of war
And playing tag I adored
Playing out from dawn to dusk
Happy were we school was done
Dinner time what did we care
With so many friends out there
Mum calls us in its getting late
And homely food on a plate
Slept like a log without a doubt
My energy all burnt out
Just what will tomorrow bring
Our gang is talking about building a swing
These pleasant days I remember well
Because many times in my childhood dwell
To see a smile on a Childs face
The world is a happier place
07 09 2010
Chellaston
poem by Jim O'Donnell
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