Annoncing my poem! You jey!

[TheRainMan]

A pig pile is where all the kids pile on top of one poor kid lying on the ground
the fat kid always waited till last to jump on
it was a recess ritual up here

in NY too.

maybe Boston and NY have more in common than everyone thinks.

good luck, Sox.

 

[Tathagata]

in NY too.

maybe Boston and NY have more in common than everyone thinks.

good luck, Sox.

It aint over till the fat lady sings
I'm sure we'll see your guys at some point
wouldn't mean anything if we didn't play each other


Good luck Yanks

 

[unpredictablebijou]

i guess puppy and kitty piles are the more pleasurable and less violent adult version.

personally, those are fun for me, but then I never experienced it as a kid. little girls are more into verbal abuse.

bj

 

[Tathagata]

i guess puppy and kitty piles are the more pleasurable and less violent adult version.

personally, those are fun for me, but then I never experienced it as a kid. little girls are more into verbal abuse.

bj

little boys are a violent lot


i'm not touching the verbal abuse line

Hope things smooth out for you this weekend kiddo
I've had " those kind" of weeks
Namaste'

 

[unpredictablebijou]

little boys are a violent lot


i'm not touching the verbal abuse line

Hope things smooth out for you this weekend kiddo
I've had " those kind" of weeks
Namaste'

wish me a puppy pile, or maybe a kitty pile. it would fix everything. Actually the week's been a bit cheese-grater-y, but mostly just stupidly amusing. the finer thing is really starting to get annoying, and I can't NOT type. I am compelled to communicate or my head explodes. Journaling's been impossible, and well, that's bad for the sanity.

that example i used the other day about Doom and Resurrection was for you, darlin', by the way. I see the krishna piece as good news, but as we all know, the audience has its own take on any given piece.

bj

 

[TheRainMan]

It aint over till the fat lady sings
I'm sure we'll see your guys at some point
wouldn't mean anything if we didn't play each other


Good luck Yanks

i secretly root for the Red Sox. it's know now it's good for the soul.

i can't admit that around here. i would be on the bottom of the biggest pig pile in history.

 

[Tathagata]

wish me a puppy pile, or maybe a kitty pile. it would fix everything. Actually the week's been a bit cheese-grater-y, but mostly just stupidly amusing. the finer thing is really starting to get annoying, and I can't NOT type. I am compelled to communicate or my head explodes. Journaling's been impossible, and well, that's bad for the sanity.

that example i used the other day about Doom and Resurrection was for you, darlin', by the way. I see the krishna piece as good news, but as we all know, the audience has its own take on any given piece.

bj

I understand
I need to write something every few days, even if it's shit, just to get it out.


the Krishna piece is simply an absolute truth
sometimes thats what you need to straighten things out in your head
I needed it, and knew it was for me
it did the trick
thank you again

( pardon the emoticon)

 

[unpredictablebijou]

I understand
I need to write something every few days, even if it's shit, just to get it out.


the Krishna piece is simply an absolute truth
sometimes thats what you need to straighten things out in your head
I needed it, and knew it was for me
it did the trick
thank you again

( pardon the emoticon)

no no. we love the emoticons. we embrace them. we venerate their colorful and vivid juiciness. we are ALL FOR the emoticons.

especially the bananas. but then, im preaching to the choir on bananas, aren't i?

bj

 

[Tathagata]

no no. we love the emoticons. we embrace them. we venerate their colorful and vivid juiciness. we are ALL FOR the emoticons.

especially the bananas. but then, im preaching to the choir on bananas, aren't i?

bj

I made oatmeal cookies today
should have stuck to banana bread

 

[Angeline]

It aint over till the fat lady sings
I'm sure we'll see your guys at some point
wouldn't mean anything if we didn't play each other


Good luck Yanks

They'll need good luck after that performance last night.

And I noticed that Cleveland fans have taken up the Fenway chant: Yankees Suck! Made me all giggly-like.

 

[Tathagata]

They'll need good luck after that performance last night.

And I noticed that Cleveland fans have taken up the Fenway chant: Yankees Suck! Made me all giggly-like.

they didn't look too happy in the paper this morning
i felt bad for a second or two

 

[Angeline]

they didn't look too happy in the paper this morning
i felt bad for a second or two

You didn't watch last night? It was worth it just to see Joe Torre's scowl all but overtake his being. I told ee why do the Yanks always have such angry-looking GMs? Must be working for Steinbrenner.

 

[Tathagata]

You didn't watch last night? It was worth it just to see Joe Torre's scowl all but overtake his being. I told ee why do the Yanks always have such angry-looking GMs? Must be working for Steinbrenner.

and dealing with A-Rod's strippers

 

[unpredictablebijou]

y'know, here's a thought:

there are enough baseball fans in here that there ought to be some sort of poetry challenge having to do with these games. Say, fans of the eventual losing team will have to write a sestina about baseball, or a smooshy fawning poem about the winning team or something. whaddya think? this sort of energy has got to be good for something, right?

bj

 

[Angeline]

y'know, here's a thought:

there are enough baseball fans in here that there ought to be some sort of poetry challenge having to do with these games. Say, fans of the eventual losing team will have to write a sestina about baseball, or a smooshy fawning poem about the winning team or something. whaddya think? this sort of energy has got to be good for something, right?

bj

Like this? (Wrote it about 5 years ago.)

Girls' Night Out

Hamilton Little League does not accept girls.
No softball for the ladies. Go home. Wear pearls.

Snuck out late Saturday night.
Landscaped field. New spotlight.

Got my glove on my bike. Judy. Leslie. Jan. JoAnn
all snuck beyond the playground, past bike stand.
Jump down. Quiet! Lock the Schwinn.
Over the fence. Jump. We're in.

We're two teams worth of buzzin' girls
wanting in on boy's game world.
Hitting, sliding, stealing base.
Sweating, cursing in your face!

Not foul, not foul! Take it over,
one more hit, but I'm murderous,
they pit me against their best:
Judy Petrangeli! Big star pitcher!

(Scared? Sheeit! I'm a switch hitter.
A lefty! Scare 'em half to death.)

Judy's nervous. Takes a breath.
then throws it fast and high.

That's a ball. I let it fly.
Let old braces Judy sweat,
and maybe blow another pitch.
Ball two's a mile out.

(I've got a wicked
arm and Judy knows it,
she smiles and scratches.
Snaps her gum. Tries to mess
me up and throws it.)

Perfect arc.
The feeling rising
from my toes.

Swing. The air is whooshing past
my glasses slipping down my nose.

Contact! Crack.
Wooooooooooooooo!
It's soaring.

Jan's in right field, running back.
I'm hauling ass. I know I'm scoring.
Round the bases rounding
first when then the very very worst
of all things.

Crash.

Tinkling glass that rings aloud,
crowding silence out of night.

The clubhouse window!
We freeze in fright until the oldest moves
and breathes and my big sister's voice
has spoken:

"C'mon."

On our bikes. Racing fast.
In the yard. Up the tree.
Through the window we are
in. Accomplished.
Safety's flight.
Little girls. Sweet dreams.
Goodnight.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Like this? (Wrote it about 5 years ago.)

Girls' Night Out

Hamilton Little League does not accept girls.
No softball for the ladies. Go home. Wear pearls.

Snuck out late Saturday night.
Landscaped field. New spotlight.

Got my glove on my bike. Judy. Leslie. Jan. JoAnn
all snuck beyond the playground, past bike stand.
Jump down. Quiet! Lock the Schwinn.
Over the fence. Jump. We're in.

We're two teams worth of buzzin' girls
wanting in on boy's game world.
Hitting, sliding, stealing base.
Sweating, cursing in your face!

Not foul, not foul! Take it over,
one more hit, but I'm murderous,
they pit me against their best:
Judy Petrangeli! Big star pitcher!

(Scared? Sheeit! I'm a switch hitter.
A lefty! Scare 'em half to death.)

Judy's nervous. Takes a breath.
then throws it fast and high.

That's a ball. I let it fly.
Let old braces Judy sweat,
and maybe blow another pitch.
Ball two's a mile out.

(I've got a wicked
arm and Judy knows it,
she smiles and scratches.
Snaps her gum. Tries to mess
me up and throws it.)

Perfect arc.
The feeling rising
from my toes.

Swing. The air is whooshing past
my glasses slipping down my nose.

Contact! Crack.
Wooooooooooooooo!
It's soaring.

Jan's in right field, running back.
I'm hauling ass. I know I'm scoring.
Round the bases rounding
first when then the very very worst
of all things.

Crash.

Tinkling glass that rings aloud,
crowding silence out of night.

The clubhouse window!
We freeze in fright until the oldest moves
and breathes and my big sister's voice
has spoken:

"C'mon."

On our bikes. Racing fast.
In the yard. Up the tree.
Through the window we are
in. Accomplished.
Safety's flight.
Little girls. Sweet dreams.
Goodnight.

yeah! like that!

bj

 

[Tzara]

y'know, here's a thought:

there are enough baseball fans in here that there ought to be some sort of poetry challenge having to do with these games. Say, fans of the eventual losing team will have to write a sestina about baseball, or a smooshy fawning poem about the winning team or something. whaddya think? this sort of energy has got to be good for something, right?

bj

I spent quite a bit of time trying to write a poem about the knuckleball, but I could never get it over the plate.




A thin, very distant voice from the west coast shouts, "Yankees suck!"

 

[Tzara]

A pig pile is where all the kids pile on top of one poor kid lying on the ground
the fat kid always waited till last to jump on
it was a recess ritual up here

although I have a feeling you aren't necessarily a " bottom" type of gal

In the PNW, this is called a "dogpile."

I know. There may be some confusion with other sorts of dog piles. One distinguishes these through the use of the term in context.

BJ has a fine bottom, by the way. Whatever are you talking about?

 

[Tzara]

Spitball

His glorious wet fingers
grip the ball against dry thumb.
Flung, the odd rotation sinks
the pitch. Hitters fan, struck dumb.

 

[The_Fool]

I have intentionally refrained from contemplating BJ's bottom....

Now the feminine lines of her neck have elicited several comments to myself....

 

[Angeline]

My Manny

Walk off.
Hands in the air
before feet fly
because he knows
at the instant of contact
that Angels or Devils
matter not
because he knows
it's not for fame,
it's love of the game.

 

[Tathagata]

Walk off.
Hands in the air
before feet fly
because he knows
at the instant of contact
that Angels or Devils
matter not
because he knows
it's not for fame,
it's love of the game.

You know that AV carries all the beauty and sadness contained in a lifetime for me
we don't have to tell anyone why


If you wanted to reduce
the game of base ball to its core appeal
high noon
on a western town
the pitcher with a Sheriffs badge
and the batter with a black hat
or
of course
vice versa
this town ain't big enough
lets see what you got

a samurai duel
a chess game
arm wrestling

we love to drink beer
and watch uncertainty play with it's self
we love not knowing the outcome

except when it involves
our own lives

 

[Angeline]

You know that AV carries all the beauty and sadness contained in a lifetime for me
we don't have to tell anyone why


If you wanted to reduce
the game of base ball to its core appeal
high noon
on a western town
the pitcher with a Sheriffs badge
and the batter with a black hat
or
of course
vice versa
this town ain't big enough
lets see what you got

a samurai duel
a chess game
arm wrestling

we love to drink beer
and watch uncertainty play with it's self
we love not knowing the outcome

except when it involves
our own lives

I you, too.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

I am LOVING the baseball poetry.

I feel pretty cool having "baseball finger," complete with a splint that actually said "baseball finger splint" on the package, just in time for post-season. Of injuries to have right now, that isn't a bad one. Trust that I'm making a HUGE deal of it this week.

I wasn't trying to catch a baseball. I was trying to catch a cat, and caught a handful of cement floor instead.

bj

 

[unpredictablebijou]

I have a very good friend who likes baseball. He has been introducing me to the sport this season and we are Watching the Playoffs together. He likes baseball for all the right reasons, as far as I can tell - he talks about the zen of it, the characters of players and teams, the historical moments.

I showed him the baseball poems in here and he liked them very much. So I'm requesting more, if you got 'em. The poetry is teaching me as much about the sport as the actual watching of games... My buddy is also just a bit of a poet; he studies haiku as a part of his zen study, and he really appreciates the work I showed him.

There's a depth in baseball, obviously, that its fans seem to be aware of and proud of. I have always perceived that, in the abstract, but actually connecting that sensation, that philosophy, to the watching of a game is a new experience for me. I'm liking this.

go team! rah rah rah. and stuff.

bijou