Coach Joe
Thirty years gone by
My senior year
Past many sunsets
Playing baseball
Coached
By an icon named Joe
His two hundreth win
Was hard to get
When it finally came
This game, Ill never forget
We started the year at eight and 0
His win total, at one ninety-nine
Lost eight straight
Then, we lost our minds
The celebration cake, got stale
Doing nothing right
Though we tried, with all our might
Depression, set in
Would he get that
Two hundreth win?
Hooray, It did finally arrive
Extra innings
A game for the ages
A tear in his eye
Again, this team was alive
'It's the little things'
He would say
That count in this game
On this field
In life, in every way
He called us knuckle heads
At times, he did yell
Was he joking or not?
Hell, we could'nt tell
My seven brothers
Were coached by this man
Giving all he had
To this small town clan
As long as I live
I 'll never forget
He called us by our last name
Knew everyone of us
Just the same
We will never, forget
Nor will we, ever regret
The discipline this man showed
Making men of boys'
Playing baseball
Learning heartaches and joys
poem by Matt Mondschein
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Related quotes
Fighting The Odds
It was a wet fall day.
Leaves falling off the trees as if they were helicopters landing on the ground.
I was on my way to me final soccer game of the season.
I was not sure if I would be playing or not because my temperature was 100 degrees.
My head felt like a 100 pound weight pushing me to the ground.
But I had to play because I had started every game in goal and I was just not able to let my team down on the undefeated season and the division title.
I was dizzy and felt like I was just been pushed around on a spinner at the local park. It was a feeling that I will never forget, it has been 5 years and I still remember this feeling.
The referee blew the whistle to show that the game was over after the 70 minutes of harsh play.
My team was as happy as winning a lottery!
After the game we took a team photo by the goal with everyone one holding up one finger to show that we are number one.
Everyone was as excited as can be because our team was not expected to do this well this season.
In the ending I had to have brain surgery because I had a rare sickness called encephalitis.
But it was worth playing in the rain playing a game I will never forget.
poem by Nick Jumic
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Playing With The Boys
Id say it was the right time
To walk away
When dreaming takes you nowhere
Its time to play
Bodies working overtime
Your money dont matter
The clock keeps ticking
When someones on your mind
Im moving in slow motion
Feels so good
Its a strange anticipation
Knock, knock, knocking on wood
Bodies working overtime
Man against man
And all that ever matters
Is baby whos ahead in the game
Funny but its always the same
Playing, playing with the boys
Playing, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
Is playing with the boys
Said it was the wrong thing
For me to do
I said its just a boys game
Girls play too
My heart is working overtime
In this kind of game
People get hurt
Im afraid that someone is me
If you want to find me, Ill be
Playing, playing with the boys
Staying, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
I dont want to be the moth around your fire
I dont want to be obsessed by my desire
Im ready, Im leaving
Ive seen enough
...with the boys
Ive seen enough
You play too rough
Playing, playing with the boys
Ill be staying, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
Is playing with the boys
Playing with the boys
Playing
Playing
Playing
Playing
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gary Speed
Glory came early as did fame.
to Gary Speed there on the pitch.
Cheers he heard from adoring crowds
among the elite he found his niche.
With time’s passage he lost a step
even if he felt the same
but as he ran he thought he saw
an old man’s shadow
in a young man’s game.
He coached to stay around the game.
After the cheers for him had faded
A friendly face, a familiar name
but as he coached he thought he saw
an old man’s shadow
in a young man’s game.
For many, Gary was an icon,
a living legend of the game.
They failed to see the mortal man
with silence weighting on his frame
As he tied the rope he thought he saw
an old man’s shadow
in a young man’s game
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Little Game
Once I had a little game
I liked to crawl back in my brain
I think you know the game I mean
I mean the game called go insane
Now you should try this little game
Just close your eyes forget your name
Forget the world, forget the people
And well erect a different steeple.
This little game is fun to do.
Just close your eyes, no way to lose.
And Im right here, Im going too.
Release control, were breaking through.
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Forget
All my doctors and friends
Have concocted these theories
Weary of seeing me day after day
On the edge of my bed
Leery of living
My laughter on hold
My sadness on stay
And it's been this way for quite a while
Yes, I forget how to smile
I'd like to rely on my old game and yet
Even that I forget
It's not there, I regret
Couldn't get up today
I pretended a fever
Any excuse but the truth will do
I don't lie very well
No I'm not a deceiver
But I can't bring myself to admit that I'm blue
And it's been this way
For quite a while
Yes, I forget how to smile
I'd like to rely on my old game and yet
Even that I forget
It's not there, I regret
The clock and the calendar
Both an assault
Time goes so slow
It must be my fault
I act like I'm okay
When I'm not okay at all
I forget what to do
I forget what it all means
Don't remember if love ever really felt good
I forget to be here
And not in-between
I'd put on a good show
If only I could
And it's been this way for quite a while
Yes, I forget how to smile
I'd like to rely on my old game and yet
Even that I forget
It's not there, I regret
I forget
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In life, so many things are taken for granted, but one thing I can honestly say is that I took every day, enjoyed the game of putting on that uniform and playing the great game of baseball.
quote by Wade Boggs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jane
Jane you say its all over for you and me girl
Theres a time for love and a time for letting it be baby
Jane youre playing a game called, called hard to get by its real name,
Making believe that you just dont feel the same. oh jane
Jane youre playing a game you never can win girl
Youre staying away so Ill ask you where you been baby
Like a cat and a mouse, (cat and a mouse) from door to door and house to house
Dont you pretend you dont know what Im talking about
Were all those nights we spent together, hey hey
Only because you didnt know better, I gotta know
Jane, youre playin a game, playin a game, playin a game
(jane, jane, jane)
Ah jane youre playing a game of hide and go seek
Jane youre playing for fun but I play for keeps, yes I do
(jane, jane, jane) thats a game on me
(jane, jane, jane) so plain to see
Janey jane why you foolin with me
(jane, jane, jane)
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Coached To Manifest Infestation
I hope they don't believe,
That a validating of their stupidty...
Will come to free them.
It is there and clear...
The initiator of current conflicts,
Wants nothing to do with the ownership of it.
And the choice to rid others from this cancer,
Begins the finalizing of their end.
Unfortuately people who think like this,
Are here to destroy.
Not to build and uplift.
And they have no idea what is done that they do!
So coached to manifest infestation.
So coached to manifest infestation.
So coached.
So coached.
So coached.
So coached.
So coached to manifest infestation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sport I Love
Like any other sports
this is the one I choose,
I love, and I have been playing.
the sport I want to be belong.
That is soccer.! ! !
Playing this game
have been giving me an event
that is hard to forget.
It is exciting right! ! !
And therefore
I do not know how
could I leave this sport.
Of which is this sport
help me to build my stamina,
meet a lot of friends, and
also this sport taught me
how to act as a human being,
in order to have a discipline
not only in this sport
but also in the community
as well as in a situation.
It help a lot in me right! ? ,
therefore i must not have to forget
as well as to leave this sport
but to love this sport forever..
I love soccer.! .
poem by Patrick Pinote
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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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Solitaire
There was a man,
A lonely man
Who lost his love
Through his indifference
A heart that cared
That went unshared
Until it died
Within his silence
And solitaires the only game in town
And every road that takes him takes him down
While life goes on around him everywhere
Hes playing solitaire
A little hope
Goes up in smoke
Just how it goes,
Goes without saying
There was a man,
A lonely man
Who would command
The hand hes playing
And solitaires the only game in town
And every road that takes him takes him down
And by himself its easy to pretend
Hell never love again
And keeping to himself he plays the game
Without her love, it always ends the same
While life goes on around him everywhere
Hes playing solitiare
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Foul Game Please
Game is not only for win or loose,
game is essential to lift our mood.
Strengthens friendship, social ties
friendly play mutual trust multiplies.
Lot of amusement in tournaments
inter schools, states and nations
Will be playing inter-planetary matches
in ‘Galax-olympiads' future generations
Happier, healthier so successful,
positive energy and emotions,
playing in team teaches to help,
bond and spirit of co-operation.
But foul players spoil the games
harm others for own name and fame.
Seen some times in game of politics
people forget responsibilities and ethics.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Go Insane
once i had a little game
i liked to crawl back in my brain
i think you know the game i mean
i mean the game of going insane...oh
oh, you should try
this little game
just close your eyes
forget your name
forget the world, forget the people
and you'll erect a different steeple
this little game is fun to do
just close your eyes
i'm going too
and i'm right here
no way to loose
release control
i'm braeaking through
once i had a little game
i liked to crawl back in my brain
i think you know the game i mean
i mean the game of going insane...oohhh
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Game of Life
Life is a game at which we play.
We make our moves on every day.
Some are right and some are wrong.
We usually look back as we move along.
But looking back doesn't change how we've played
unless you learn from mistakes you've made.
Few are winners and too many lose.
For the games's unfair and when you choose
a move that's not right you later regret
what you did. For you don't forget.
But since life's only a game we play
when the game is finished we finally say
'I should have done this or should have done that'
We fail to recognize that where we're at
is exactly where we should be.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heart Of My Own
I cant go near the scent of flowers.
I cant look at the sky.
I cant turn on the radio
And not cry.
I wont watch lovers holding hands
Or the sun sinking down.
I cant look at a single thing in this town.
You were playing a game and i,
I lost count of the days and the nights.
Do you know that you were my life?
Im tryin hard to find all thats left of me,
Now that you left me alone.
Tired of runnin away from your memory.
I need a heart of my own.
I have looked through every single book,
Torn through every poem,
Heard the words of every voice
That Ive known.
How can you have such a hold on me,
When youve already let go?
You must have more power than I know.
Woah.
You were playing a game and i,
I lost count of the days and the nights.
Oh, did you know that you were my life? !
Im tryin hard to find all thats left of me,
Now that you left me alone,
Im tired of runnin away from your memory.
I need a heart of my own.
You gave me heaven and showed me how to fly,
Then laughed when I fell from the sky, yeah!
[guitar interlude]
Tired of runnin away from your memory.
I need a heart of my own.
Im tryin hard to find all thats left of me,
Now that you left me alone,
Im tired of runnin away from your memory.
I need a heart of my own.
[repeat chorus]
song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Definitions As An Intention To Describe
Definitions as an intention to describe,
Can be so confining to the mind.
Case in point...
Having to 'some' a meaning.
But...
To those probing their observations,
Making little sense to make sensible...
A reason to find a rhyme.
I remember when I heard the term,
'Baseball' used.
And when I went to my first game,
I was not overwhelmed with excitement.
I couldn't get the 'bat' out of my head.
'Why isn't this game called 'Batball'...
Instead of baseball? '
I kept thinking of that.
Without the bat,
There wouldn't be any baseball played.
Unlike basket...ball.
I can understand that.
Foot...ball,
Okay...
I'm sold.
Base...ball?
And all that the bases do,
Is just lay there?
Home...plate?
That's not a home...base?
And the hitting of a 'homerun'...
That's out of the field of play?
Whoever created this game,
Is a genius.
The terms used as they are applied,
Makes absolutely no sense.
I can understand,
Why it's one of the most favorite sports.
Like golf!
When a player hits that ball,
That might endanger onlookers...
A shouting of 'fore' is heard.
Fore...what?
If one is hit...
Be-fore the word is heard,
That's it.
And even after 'fore'...
What difference does it make?
The other day...
I watched a player of 'baseball' lose his bat.
It went flying into the stadium...
To hit someone in the head.
No one warned the 'victim' at all.
No one shouted...
'Watch 'that'.
It's a flying bat.'
Hmmm...
Flying bats?
At a baseball game?
Where the selling of hot...dogs,
And pea...nuts with beer...
Is a tradition.
And someone wishes to keep the writing of poetry,
To restrictions?
By whose definition?
And when does prose not become poetry?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another Wave of Grief (From a story in the news about a Lebanese)
When spring comes
Flowers wave along the walls
Happiness and joys come
To our deserted village
For years we wait to recover
The wounds that burn
For years we bear
The scars of destruction
Then we are near to escape
The trauma of dejection
Suddenly everything shatters
A child is blown while playing
With untested mines
Another wave of grief
Stipple our throats
We return to our past
To migrate to a shelter
Where we find wounds
Blood, cuts and burns
Mad cries we hear
Another wave of grief
Stains our history
We learn a new lesson
Of hard struggle and survival
The game of life and death
We cannot clear our memory
And still another scar
Betrays our minds
When we are near to forget
Then someone again remind us
Of the terrible past
We think people cannot bear
Our happiness and joys
They amaze themselves
By making us poor and migrant
By making us slaves and terrorists
poem by Abdul Sattar
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God's miracle
Say not
That this is just a game.
As I watch the little boys play
After a heavy school day
He goes straight to the field,
And there he is in his element
Raising up the dust
As he scores that goal.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As the boys make their football
Collecting plastic from the dumps
And cutting ropes that were washing lines.
As the boys create a pitch
Or just play on the road,
They take sticks or stones
And they build a goal.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As these boys return home at night
Return to be whipped after their delight
The ball will be smashed,
The plastic seperated from the rope
And the field will be taken.
To the farmers and goat herders it will be given
But the boys collect themselves, with undying determination
And they go back to playing football.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As the scout sees that young player
And he is sent to England
Maybe he will play with Man U or maybe Inter.
He sees a world far from home
From sunny rays to raindropp beats.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As that girl plays on the boy's team
She raises rumours,
As people see her and say she will not marry
She drops her bucket of water and goes to be goalie.
The boys boo and make fun of her
But they know she is a very good player.
And she is an example to other little girls
Who long for that ball and not for pearls.
Say not
That this is just a game.
As old men sleep in bars
Just so they can see that match
Of their favourite English team,
And when they reach home their angry wives will ask
'What will that team give you if they win? '
The men will go to bed silent
But their minds know the answer
'They will give me pride, and honour.'
Say not
That this is just a game.
As the world cup starts
Linking whole nations.
And in that stadium
There is no such thing as rich, poor, colour or religion.
Because everybody will mix
As they go to cheer their country,
And their players from Eto'o to Messi.
Say not
That this is just a game.
When that player has the ball
At the box for a penalty
And it is the finale
When all hearts will stop.
And all breaths are held.
And when that goal is scored,
Each cheer is louder than the next
Every person with smiles so big
Both in the stands and on the field
There stand a connection of confusion,
But also true happiness.
Say not
That this is just a game.
When the team will hold that cup
And the whole country becomes a champion
Every man, every woman, and all the children.
It's name goes down in history
And it will be known as a cup holding nation.
Say not
That this is just a game.
No, this is football.
This is God's miracle,
To that little boy and girl
To that man who knows the answer
To not one but all,
And to you and me as well
Say not
That this is just a game.
For this, this is football!
poem by Mariam de Haan
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Happy New Year
We all have something we didn't do right
So here another year to start over and fixed it
We all have resolution to make
For me its to just be happy and enjoy my life
To forget the past and you
Make everyday count
Every minute is precious
If you make mistakes, keep trying and don't give up
I believe in you and so does people who love you
Even though they don't show it but deep inside they do
It clean slate to make the way you want to go
Is everyone time to shine in their own way
Not everyone going keep their resolution,
Stay same and others will
It's out with old and in with new
We all have something we want to achive this year
This your chance to do what you never show everyone
Be different, crazy, loud, or fun
Happy New Year
Finally it's 2012 and whole new year
Let's make this year great and fun
Wohhhhooooooooo
Come on lets good time
Have party or be with family
I wish you all a
Happy New Year
It's whole new year to enjoy try something new,
Take risk and explore other things out there if you want to
Finally its here and its went by so fast
Happy New Year
poem by Christina Phan
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Small Victories!
small minds, small dreams,
small prayers, small God.
small thoughts, small answers,
to questions not small!
playing the race game,
the salvation game,
the mine and yours game,
the right and wrong game.
like cattle herded
unknowingly to slaughter.
every body a ticket,
to pay the fare.
bigger picture, bigger concepts,
bigger than i and me!
bigger risk, bigger world,
bigger choices, small victories.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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