Wednesday, December 16, 2009


So I wrote a new poem (I don't write often mainly because I never really feel inspired to do so) because lately I felt like I had something that needed to be said and I just had to get this off my chest. Feel free to tell me what you think and/or discuss what it is that I'm talking about


Cynic the pitcher
Is about to strike me out
and it's without a doubt,that I can see this game coming to an end

At the bottom of the 9th and my team has 2 outs
2 Popfly hopefuls that could go, all the way

And unfortunately nobody knows
When the wind is gonna change
and make sure that things, are not the same

But still I remain, up next in the game

I must admit, it's n
ot my first attempt at this,
but I suck even in practice,

Guess the stakes Are top high
Or maybe I'm too shy
To swing at every pitch

Ball he calls, then strike, then foul
How quickly I'm down in the count now,

Gotta pay attention but i don't see my pitch
It's high and outside
Oh that's ball number 2
Cynic thinks he's slick, but look son, I got you
right past my nose he throws ball 3,

Can't believe the counts now in favor of Me!
So with this last pitch, I
'll take my chanceand swing
I just want a base hit,
As I hit top speed and run for my life
I don't think twice if this is even right

I'm just running like a bat outta hell
and it feels sorta like love put a spell on that last ball
cuz I hit the base quick and I didn't even fall,

But I see this base is not for me
And there's no second guessing,

Here's my chance to steal second

Steal like take what's not mine
or not at this time but it's too close to wait,
so when nobody's lookin

Headed towards this place I know so well,
this base I couldn't tell was closer than it seemed
I'm no Ricky Henderson and I don't do this often,
And I don't do this often but now it's worth the risk
With each step I'm closer to the place I need to be

Now I'm running at the speed of sound

Can't even feel my feet hit the ground
And I know that I'm not only racing against time
I'm racing to get mine and...

I'm pickled between my past and my future
But I cAn't go back I'm likely to get injured

If I keep running foward I might get caught
Might be picked off
Might be...

But with each might I just take flight
I hit the ground so hard
And the base with one hand

I can't hear past the crowd
My mind is in space
Did the umpire yell out
Or am I really, safe?


  1. pickled btwn my past and my future
    But with each might i just take flight

    I repeat the lines i really like. I also like how you left us hanging at the end. We're all just waiting for the dust to settle and the ump to make the call.

  2. And wait ye shall do... lol!! glad you enjoyed it!

  3. You should write poetry more often! I really enjoyed it :o)