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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Related quotes
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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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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Every Time You Throw Dirt On Her (You Lose A Little Ground)
I guess you think it's fun
To laugh at her expense
And point out each mistake she makes
In front of all your friends
You figure she'll let it go by
'Cause she loves you so
But, you know.
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground
She slips a little further away
Each time that you put her down
A lady like that can come here and get
Somebody who knows what he's found
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground.
--- Instrumental ---
It's hard to bite my lip
But, I ain't saying a word
I give you all the rope to hang yourself
That you deserve
You might be ahead of me in her heart, today
But, that's okay.
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground
She slips a little further away
Each time that you put her down
A lady like that can come here and get
Somebody who knows what he's found
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground.
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground
She slips a little further away
Each time that you put her down
A lady like that can come here and get
Somebody who knows what he's found
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground.
Every time you throw dirt on her
You lose a little ground
She slips a little further away
Each time that you put her down...
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Paradise Found
I am lost inside
A world of my own,
A world that I painted inside of my thoughts
Within a figment of my imagination-
I have taken myself on a journey to a place
I call paradise-
Inside this place I call paradise
I am lost,
Inside this place I call paradise,
I am alone-
Surrounded by trees and mountains,
Violet in hue – wildflowers would grow and
Grass grows high, caressing my ankles
In an almost loving way-
Inside the world of my thoughts
I step inside this paradise I have found and as I
Lose myself within a dream,
In less than a moment’s time,
My imagination has succumbed
To this magical land of my delusions-
Towards this place where I shall forever remain-
I am lost, I am alone but here in this place I call paradise,
Surrounded by trees and mountains,
Violet in hue and where wildflowers grow and
Grass grows high-
In a strange sort of way, I am not really alone-
I have my thoughts, my dreams and my fantasies and
The voices only I can hear are my constant companions-
Birds, trees and forget-me- knots are truly my friends-
In all actuality, I am no longer lost as
I was in that world outside of my dreams
Within that world into which I was born-
In that world where people have always hurt, betrayed and lied to me-
It was inside that world I was truly lost and alone-
I shall never return to that world.
I have lost myself within a dream and in truth,
I have finally found who I truly am and as I listen to the singing
Of the nightingale, the water rushing in the creek below,
A gentle breeze rustling the leaves upon the trees and
As I watch the sun ascend over the mountains,
The deer running freely and
I begin to sing a song of freedom and peace of mind-
Now I know the true meaning of loss and loneliness-
That is being trapped inside a world laden with myriads of people
Who have and shall always hurt and betray one another, as
Every moment in time rapidly advances too fast to control-
As I glance upward towards this sky of azure-blue,
I lock that phantasmal door that separates fantasy from reality-
Delighted to say that this fantasy has become my new reality and
I have found myself within the world of my dreams,
Surrounded by trees and mountains, violet in hue and
Where wildflowers grow plentifully and
When the sun descends behind the mountains and darkness overcomes
Here in my paradise- I can begin to count the stars and
Dance with the moon on the horizon- to the tune of
The singing of the nightingale-alive in my very own heaven and paradise,
Not lost but found and never again alone-
Here inside the world of my fantasies,
Where I have been reborn, within this magical land of my dreams,
Where I shall always sing a song of freedom as I joyfully wish upon a star-
poem by Claudia Krizay
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I said to myself I've got to go up there and do it because the New York Mets keep winning every day. The game was on the line and I wanted to go out there and come through for my team. That win tonight means a lot for us.
quote by Sammy Sosa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mets have shown me more ways to lose than I even knew existed.
quote by Casey Stengel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Children Lose Their Innocence
The innocence of childhood it is a marvellous thing
And all children are untainted in their life's early Spring
But by the time they've reached their teens their innocence they've lost
And the experience that we gain from age always comes at a cost.
When children lose their innocence they lose their gift of joy
The joy that comes from innocence in every young girl and boy
Compared to us young children see life quite differently
Of the guilt of corruption they are completely free.
I have such happy memories of when I was a boy
My childhood years were happy years but time just seemed to fly
And the experience that I've gained from life it came at a great cost
For I lost something beautiful when innocence I lost.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Life Is Too Short
life is too short
Music: rudolf schenker
Lyrics: klaus meine
Have you ever seen the morning?
When the sun comes up the shore
And the silence teach the beauty for the sound
Have you ever set there waiting?
For the time to stand still
For all the worlds and stars
From turning around
And you run
'cause life is too short
And you run
'cause life is too short
Have you ever seen the glory?
When the moon is on the rise
And the dreams are close
To the ones that we love
Have you ever set there waiting?
For heaven to give a sign
So we could find the place
Where angels come from
And you run (and you run)
'cause life is too short
And you run (and you run)
'cause life is too short
There's a time that turns
Turn back time
But i don't see i can
It only works
If you believe in the truth
But there's a time to live
And a time to cry
But if you're by my side
I will try to catch a star
I'll try to catch a star
Just for you
And i run
'cause life is too short
And i run (and i run)
'cause life is too short
And i run and i run and i run and i run and i run
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Downtown Train
(tom waits)
Outside another yellow moon
Has punched a hole in the night time mist
I climb through the window and down to the street
Im shining like a new dime
The downtown trains are full
Full of all them brooklyn girls
They try so hard to break out of their little worlds
You wave your hand and they scatter like crows
They have nothing thatll ever capture your heart
Theyre just thorns without the rose
Be careful of them in the dark
Oh if I was the one you chose to be your only one
Oh baby cant you hear me now, cant you hear me now
Will I see you tonight on a downtown train
Every night, every night its just the same
On a downtown train
I know your window and I know its late
I know your stairs and your doorway
I walk down your street and past your gate
I stand by the light of the four way
And watch them as they fall, oh baby
They all having their heart attacks
They stay at the carnival
But theyll never win you back
Will I see you tonight on a downtown train
Every night, every night its just the same
You leave me lonely
Will I see you tonight on a downtown train
All my dreams, all my dreams fall like rain
On a downtown train
Will I see you tonight on a downtown train
Every night, every night its just the same
Will I see you tonight on a downtown train
All my dreams, all my dreams fall like rain
On a downtown train
On a downtown train
All my dreams fall like rain
On a downtown train
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting
===
Just one short life
No second chance
To make of ourselves what we can
The moving hands again advance
& mould me into what I am
Waiting, waiting
Well understood but not controlled
Forever here anonymous
Whats present now
Already past
In retrospect so obvious
Waiting, waiting
Such a short space of time
But time passes quickly
Learn so little so slowly
As each moment is mine
The hope never fading
You will always be left waiting, waiting
Such a short space of time
Learn so little so slowly
As each moment is mine
You will always be left waiting
song performed by by Xentrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting
===
Just one short life
No second chance
To make of ourselves what we can
The moving hands again advance
& mould me into what I am
Waiting, waiting
Well understood but not controlled
Forever here anonymous
Whats present now
Already past
In retrospect so obvious
Waiting, waiting
Such a short space of time
But time passes quickly
Learn so little so slowly
As each moment is mine
The hope never fading
You will always be left waiting, waiting
Such a short space of time
Learn so little so slowly
As each moment is mine
You will always be left waiting
song performed by by Xentrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Same Place, Same Time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
The coffee’s hot
And the company is good
Conversation flows, as it should
A joke or two
And when all is said and done
We’re right back to where we begun
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
These crowded streets
I balance tight roped on the curb
Car screeches past, a scream is heard
De ja vu
Yes I’ve been here before
Time moves slowly as traffic stalls
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Break
It was good
You were sublime
I’m so glad that we spent the time
Time is short
What we have is rare
Love is oxygen with you there
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Copyright 2006 (updated 2010)
poem by Colin Coplin
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Football Friday
Friday nite, small towns, big city
Big lights, mark field
quietly awaiting
for bands, fans
school colors, school spirits
pep rally's, scoring alleys
big crowds, cheering fans
cheerleaders dancing, cheering
Root Root for the home team
balls flying, bodies diving
scrambles of run, bombs of passes
scoring touchdowns, holding them down
Win Win hail to our team
Lose Lose hold your heads high
there's another day to win the game
loading bus, cheers and jeers
what a night, for the fight
Win Win for the home crowd
Go Go we won't go
fight fight thru the night
finally a win, what a team
play the game as your first
win it like your last
sportsmanship is the respect
give a hand shake win or lose
till the next game we will go
on another beautiful Friday night
poem by Michael Peterson
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Magical
Today I found Grace,
She looked me right in the face!
Found the courage to stare back,
My heart opened, just a crack,
Life flooded in,
My heart filled with love and Light,
Heaven is on earth tonight!
No time to deny,
Your love is magical,
Lifting me high,
High, beyond the sky,
Can't always see what lies ahead,
Just when I thought I was dead,
Found Grace sitting on my bed,
Waiting, waiting for my heart to mend,
Opening up to love's promise, that,
With time all pain will end!
So when you feel down and lonely,
Remember life is just a journey,
No need to mourn her,
Grace is just around the corner,
And in the end, she's just a friend,
Waiting for our hearts to mend!
21 June 2012
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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Euro Cup
A nation of 16 teams.
Having a Single dream.
And everyone likes ice-cream.
Doesn't matter who wins.
Who will win.
Will be the King.
Millions of people watching in TV screen.
Cheering their team up to achieve their Ultimate dream.
This is all I have to say today.
All the best to all 16 teams.
Goodnight and have sweet dreams.
Germany, France, Spain, Italy etc.
Who is your Favorite team?
poem by Yash Pradhan
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Did You Know
Did you know that love can grow any place where people go,
And I can tell by what I see that you have found a place with me.
The sun is high the day is new and
I have found a place with you.
Ev'ry place and ev'ry face casts a spell and leaves a trace,
With you in mind and with you near, the myth is gone, the past is clear
And here with scars of now and then so you and I begin again.
Did you know I've been searchin'? Did you know I've been blind?
Did you know I've been touchin' anything I could find?
Did you know that here below, moving where my feelings flow,
You live with me in time that's new, suspended in a love that's true
And far beyond the fatal noise and bathed in all life's simple joys.
Did you know that love can grow any place where people go,
And I can tell by what I see that you have found a place with me.
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old School House At Ruby
In old school house yard at Ruby a dark brown shorthorn cow
And leghorn pullets cackling beneath the cypress bough
This school must hold good memories and memories live somehow
Here in their lunch hour children played but where are those children now? .
The old school room now a tea room has undergone some change
And if past pupil came back here he'd find the place quite strange
Where is the desk he sat at? the blackboard is not there
And time has brought change to Ruby as it has done elsewhere.
The old school house at Ruby a memory of past years
Here Ruby children sang and laughed and shed their fledgeling tears
And do those children of Ruby who now live far away
In dreams return to old school house and Ruby childhood day? .
The old school house at Ruby a memory of the past
And time has brought about some change and time bring change too fast
This school must hold good memories and memories live somehow
Here in their lunch hour children played but where are those children now? .
poem by Francis Duggan
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Their Football Team To Them Important
Their flags and their banners they are waving with joy and excitement they shout
The hero has kicked the winning goal but what are they shouting about
To them it should not really matter 'tis only a game of football
But to them it is very important and their's is the best team of all.
At least that is how they do see it their lives revolves around their team
When their team win a huge boost to their egos and a loss bad for their self esteem
Last week their team lost in a thriller but their loss reduced them to tears
And tonight they will sing their Club song in the Local and celebrate with a few beers.
They look forward to the football Season and they live for the love of the game
And on their bedroom walls a poster sized photograph of their heroes and they know every player by name
Why do they take football so serious they talk about it at work every day
But suppose each of us have our own passions and each to their own one might say.
Their flags and their banners they are waving as proudly they sing their Club song
And they look forward to next weekend's game each day till then for them too long
Their football team to them important their lives revolve around the game
And each time their heroes are defeated the umpires for the loss they will blame.
poem by Francis Duggan
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