I've tried doing daily poems and fancy blog posts and anything I thought would draw attention. However, the internet is a very large ocean and nobody is going to notice me pouring cans of surgery sweet blue and orange soda into it.
I view baseball Opening Day as the same as Christmas morning. It is one of my favorite times of the year. So, as we approached the 2022 Opening Day, I did a countdown, sort of like an advent calendar, but instead of a little toy behind each flap on a box, I posted a new link to some of my favorite locations on the internet.
This classic poem tells the story of the Mudville Nine and their Mighty Casey coming to bat with the hero role all but sewn up. However, baseball is designed to breaks hearts.
Christmas is about hope and new beginnings. It is about possibilities, starting over, and joy. For those of us who love baseball, oftentimes there is more excitement around Opening Day.
Stretching in the Spring sun, my soul awakes. Winter’s frost swept asunder; melting in the infield chalk. Heart thumps awake from hibernation’s lethargy. Mind sparks forth from solemn sleep. Hallelujah, Awake my soul...Spring has returned. Autumn failures fall aside, stored away for skeptics. Each club stands tall in Elysian’s green grass. Hope emerges from Winter’s... Continue Reading →
A team, a dream, one piece more to greatness; Lost in baseball's desert, promised land sought. Power and grace, more myth than man - fates bless; Solid, steady as rock, from fire he's wrought. New life, new team as heart to hope is brought. A starved city rises up to it's feet. This man, this... Continue Reading →
Inspired by a Facebook page, I wrote the two sonnets below. The first is somewhat blunt in getting to the point (well, as blunt as poetry will let you get when trying to work in rhymes). The second was an exercise in taking the artistic, more subtle side of me out for a ride. Enjoy.... Continue Reading →
She is almost gone. Pillaged like a vanquished land in the time of Vikings. Drawn and quartered by steel dragons. Barbaric to those that loved her. Tragic to those that knew her. Soon, all that will be left are some painted markers to be driven over. Names on uniforms have come and gone. Tears and... Continue Reading →