Empathy
your poem
your pain
becomes
a mirror
of myself
sometimes
it seems
i see you
writing
i watch
how your
pen slides
on paper
and my
mind too
slides with
it like my
muscles
flexing
when the
baseball
player
in the field
swings his
bat and hits
the ball
on a strike....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Greatest
Little boy, in a baseball hat stands in the field with his ball and bat.
Says, "I am the greatest player of them all" puts his bat on his shoulder and he tosses up his ball.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground.
Now the little boy doesn't say a word, picks up his ball, he is undeterred.
Says, "I am the greatest there has ever been" and he grits his teeth and he tries it again.
And the ball goes up and the ball comes down swings his bat all the way around
The world so still you can hear the sound, the baseball falls to the ground.
He makes no excuses, he shows no fear, he just closes his eyes and listens to the cheers.
Little boy, he adjusts his hat, picks up his ball, stares at his bat
Says,"I am the greatest, the game is on the line" and he gives his all one last time.
And the ball goes up and the moon so bright, swings his bat with all his might
The world's as still, as still can be, the baseball falls and that's strike three.
Now it's suppertime and his momma calls, little boy starts home with his bat and ball.
Says, "I am the greatest, that is a fact, but even I didn't know I could pitch like that!"
Says, "I am the greatest,that is understood, but even I didn't know I could pitch that good!
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
My Car Slides (1)
Version1
-------------------------
My car slides
My last words are:
'Help. Mother I'm...'
My car slides
I wait for cold
A fear of the dark
My car slides
And I pray to
Things I've not seen
Here am I
Sad and lonely
Here am I
Quite by chance I slide
My car slides
The radio plays
'Heaven...' something
My car slides
This quiet night
Time plays slow tricks
My car slides
My clock runs down
Tick tock tick...
Here am I
Sad and lonely
Here am I
Quite by chance I slide
Version2
-------------------------------
Now there's a girl outside my door
She's raw pink shame
She makes love as the machines play
Sound effects of mayhem
She disconnects my own heart at times
The cure comes next
Here am I
Sad and lonely
Here am I
Quite by chance I slide
She has the problem of need
Not conversation
She can only whisper such things
Like 'I tear inside'
She's like a gangster in drag I knew
Skin like china.
Here am I
Sad and lonely
Here am I
Quite by chance I slide
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Car Slides
Version1
-------------------------
My car slides
My last words are:
help. mother im...
My car slides
I wait for cold
A fear of the dark
My car slides
And I pray to
Things Ive not seen
Here am i
Sad and lonely
Here am i
Quite by chance I slide
My car slides
The radio plays
heaven... something
My car slides
This quiet night
Time plays slow tricks
My car slides
My clock runs down
Tick tock tick...
Here am i
Sad and lonely
Here am i
Quite by chance I slide
Version2
-------------------------------
Now theres a girl outside my door
Shes raw pink shame
She makes love as the machines play
Sound effects of mayhem
She disconnects my own heart at times
The cure comes next
Here am i
Sad and lonely
Here am i
Quite by chance I slide
She has the problem of need
Not conversation
She can only whisper such things
Like i tear inside
Shes like a gangster in drag I knew
Skin like china.
Here am i
Sad and lonely
Here am i
Quite by chance I slide
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
On The Shore
One child on the shore
With a stick on his hands
Writes on the sands
Some drawings
Playful
A wave comes and slides
On the shore
The drawings are gone
And a new slate is given
By the water that runs
That advances to him
And later surrenders to itself
Another young man
Draws a heart on the sand
Swearing a love eternal
All encompassing
A wave slides forth
And comes back pulling towards itself
A new slate is made again
The old man comes later
Writing his life story with a cane
The same wave comes again
Slides forth and pulls itself
An empty slate
Sand so smooth and blank and plain
Gleaming anew
To the blue skies
Everything looks playful,
Indeed. The sameness and the
Constant repetition. The cycle.
The monotony of life.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I love to play baseball. I'm a baseball player. I've always been a baseball player. I'm still a baseball player. That's who I am.
quote by Ryne Sandberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The teaser
So you are alone?
What now, what about your being alone?
You write a poem about it?
Let me see and read it.
(reads like reading an
electric bill for January)
there is nothing here,
everyone feels like you do
except that you write about
it, and you call yourself a poet,
I don’t think it will make a difference
Do you drink san mig beer?
Do you smoke 2 packs of Marlboro
A day? You don’t? Why not try it?
Let me see your choice of words,
(reads the poem again)
There is nothing in here that
Makes you different from the rest
Of us, smokers and drinkers and
Gamblers. What makes you think
You are not like us? Huh?
(crumples the paper where the
poem is written and leaves,
he picks it up and smoothens it
folds it like his blanket and slides
it in his pocket like a paycheck)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A true man never frets about his place in the world, but just slides into it by the gravitation of his nature, and swings there as easily as a star.
quote by Edwin Hubbel Chapin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Take The Pain Away! (january 22 2011)
i sit here away feeling the pain
the pain of losing you
the pain of being alone.
the pain of my heart breaking
the pain of longing for you.
the pain that my pasted has made for me
the pain the razor makes when it slides across my arm to make me get away from the pain inside.
the pain has taken over my life never giving me a min to be happy
please won't you take the pain away please!
poem by juggalette Tiffany ann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Woman, The Oranje And The 2010 World Cup
In a bar in Amsterdam,
I realise how football consumes the soul.
Did I care yesterday whether there had been changes to the team?
Or whether one particular player was match fit?
No.
But, today I am swept along,
I feel the electricity in the air,
The hoping, the waiting, the tension,
The tangible excitement as the team walks out.
I grasp the momentary pride as the national anthem plays
And feel the lump in my throat as I see players join in and sing along.
I’m not even Dutch.
But, I’ve bought the shirt.
Then, as the game progresses I feel the air coarse back and forth,
As each spectator gasps, oohs and ahhs when free kicks go astray and shots on goal are deflected.
I watch fingers twitch, hands wring, and nails being bitten - all in the name of football.
Football, the beautiful game.
Football, the life giving ether that unites a nation and makes busses late.
Soon a hush descends,
As a player (who I don’t know the name of) “storms” his way through to the centre,
And slides the ball neatly under the goalkeeper.
Goal! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Time stops.
In this moment there is no war, no hunger, no pain, no hate in the world,
God is alive and he wears a number 11 shirt.
poem by Teedy Dawn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm Not Writing A Poem Today
I'm not writing a poem today, don't feel like writing,
Instead I'll watch soaps today, while nail-biting.
I'm not writing a poem today, I'm just going to sleep soon,
Instead I'll later wake up and look at the white moon,
I'm not writing a poem today, I'm just going to be sad,
Instead I'm going to search for something else that makes me glad.
So peace be unto anyone that reads the letter here,
For I am not writing a poem today, just going to get a beer.
poem by Chad Fisher
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My soccer team
I see men standing next to each other
in a line
and they wear yellow and green.
The national anthem plays
and its like nobody honours it
or know the words,
but maybe they are caught by the great moment.
The whistle blows
and the ball is kicked to and fro
and there are men attacking
and others that defend.
The goal is open
and the ball flies past in a wide arc
and it’s as if my team
can’t score any goal.
The opponents have the ball
and shoot it right over the field
and one of their front players
hits it with his head.
The ball flies twisting
and with a swing in the air
and is accurately aimed at the goal
As from the ground
the goalie rises
and the onlookers are silent
and just before it’s too late,
the ball is caught
and the crowd cheers.
It is as if something sweeps into
the men with yellow and green
and they play perfectly,
like only a good team can.
There’s passion to win
and the ball is passed
from player to player
and a mighty kick,
launches it accurately past the goalkeeper
to get entangled in the net.
The crowd cheers and go nuts
and vuvezelas are blowing
and flags are swept to and thro
and the players grab each other.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Coleslaw
All The Fiends Are Out
Nobody's leaking any more
No-one said a thousand times
My brains' been scattered about
Forced to deal with suffering
Making more than I mean
Leave my past behind me
Life... LIFE
Show me show me SHOW ME (3x)
Now the fiends are back in
I'm through with resort
Just one more time
To keep my face in
LIFE
Smile , while the blade slides down your face
Pain, for at least 2 or 3 days
You , dont' you love all your scars
Feel, all the Medicine released
SMILE, WHILE THE BLADE SLIDES DOWN YOUR FACE (8x)
Full credit goes to -StubS- of Slipknotboard for these lyrics
song performed by by Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fairground.
Fairground,
Big sound,
Music everywhere.
Great rides,
Brill slides,
Wind blowing through my hair.
Roundabouts,
Ins and outs,
Candy on a stick.
Ups and downs,
Groans and frowns,
Oh no! I'm feeling sick.
Lots of yells,
Cooking smells,
All going on around.
The great rides,
And brill slides,
At the fairground.
poem by Lizzy Tomlinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Not The Poem Then
NOT THE POEM THEN
Not the poem then
Although it can be the poem
Writing
Simply writing
This is the duty and the meaning
And the release from meaninglessness
And the ‘enabling me to go on’
The poem is only one form of it
It is the writing which matters
My life has been this
This writing
Even if it is a poor poem now
As I write these words
I live.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Art
My pen glides
the paper slides
thick lines
thin lines
curved
straight
I scribble
never erase
I create
my art
my heart-
poem by Jeremy Rascon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
With All The Reading and Writing I Do
With all the reading and writing I do
With all the work of the mind and heart
There comes a time
It can be any time
There comes a time
When the Poem must enter-
The Poem?
The deeper feeling-
The Music of the soul-
What I most need to say inside
The Writing which somehow surpasses all the other
In its inner intensity in its deepest feeling –
I write a poem now
All my heart mind soul
Go into every word and phrase.
The Poem? The Poem?
For which I write to live
And which through writing
I most live in Writing-
The Poem that this is.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Moving round
The world is the paper
The sea is the ink
And I'm the sea
Full of thought
And emotion
And writing poems
On the paper-world.
The tree the bird
The cloud the air
The light the earth
Are ingredients of poems
I'm writing the poem
My poem moving round
The life's circle
You are to read and read.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As far as I'm concerned, Aaron is the best ball player of my era. He is to baseball of the last fifteen years what Joe DiMaggio was before him. He's never received the credit he's due.
quote by Mickey Mantle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Pain Flows
my pain flows with my blood
it flows to my heart
it flows to my mind
my pain floods my body with hurt
its traped in side, not way out
i grab my knife and open my skin
lettin out my pain
with every cut i feel my pain leavin me
i sigh with every slit
cuttin till all of my pain is gone
but with every day more pain i get
my pain floods my body with hurt
tryin to get out
waitin till that knife slides acorss my skin