"cobb" poems
Ozzie Smith, Yazstremski,
Dave Stieb and Robin Yount
these men were of a special group
It's one I'm proud to count
There's players who achieve a goal
While others just achieve
They set a standard for the rest
In their heart they just believe
The game is full of heroes
Men depended on each game
They all have certain attributes
And we all know them by name
Kaline, Ripken, and Wade Boggs
The Carters, Joe and Gary
They're men who inspire us
They have a reputation tough to carry
To be a man of character
You must be better than the rest
You have to be a leader
If you ***** up, you must confess
Baseball doesn't make you one
For character's within
You just learn how to channel it
Bring it out from where it's been
Now, Cobb, Ruth and McLain
Were characters as well
But, not the kind of characters
That we are here to tell
They had a reputation
One that is not lost upon the game
But, to say that they had character
Then you would not speak their names
Tom Seaver and Clemente
Thurmon Munson, Sparky too
Were men who set examples
Of exactly what to do
To build a reputation
One that shows character and heart
Is something time consuming
It's built of many parts
To do the right thing once
Is not the thing I want to see
But to do it right consistently
That defines character to me
There are so many examples
Of players in this group
But there are ten times as many
Who miss the homer with a bloop
Baseball brings it out in you
It doesn't put it there
You show what you are made of
By definition....to be fair
Williams, Maris, Dimaggio
Robinsons, Jackie and Frank
They played with an integrity
You could take it to the bank
If you want to be a winner
Please do this if you can
Be a man of character
Not a character of a man.
..
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 1:08 PM UTC
On the waterfront, in a freight car-
Call it passion, call it desire.
Whatever it is that inspires-
That thing that wrings
One more day out.
What songs angels sing!
As they ferry souls along,
On flight, in wing
En route:
But the dead walk amongst the living, too,
And sometimes even angels get confused.
Poor, empty vassal
Aug 23, 2023
Aug 23, 2023 at 7:22 PM UTC
Detroit
Lying in ruins like Ancient Rome
The gods of Detroit looking down
Ford wondering
Why cars are now made in china
Ty Cobb sobbing
Over the loss of his sandlot
Diego Rivera
Putting his hand down saying
Don't touch my **** mural
Eminem's eight mile vanishing
Joe Louis' palace tumbling down
Bell Isle being sold to the highest bidder
Who killed Detroit?
Let the finger pointing begin
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 10:15 PM UTC
You miss two or three celebrations, buy incentives, you beg me to come.
Meet and greet with brothers really different, we be bearing arms.
My family be at the table talking ****
guess that's the price of love.
Putting money in his pockets, but I'm stressed, so here goes a dub.
For years, been writing page after page just to get a head nod.
Stay out the streets, get killed, or suffer;
my reason for over night jobs.
Trying not to rob.
I've always dropped the ball so I gave it to God.
Hanging out the window with my stick, we was out in Cobb.
I wanted to be in the league when I grew up.
I wanted to be in the streets when I grew up.
I wanted to be like bro when I grew up.
I wanted all the hoes when I grew up.
I wanted to be like my daddy when I grew up.
I wanted my own family when I grew up.
I wanted to free my cousin when I grew up.
I wanted to make it out when I grew up.
Never knew what love meant, I had to grow up.
I never knew how to vent, I need to grow up.
I was acting like a little boy, I had to grow up.
I be feeling like a lonely child, I gotta grow up.
Mar 31, 2022
Mar 31, 2022 at 2:05 PM UTC
Style--go ahead talking about style.
You can tell where a man gets his style just
as you can tell where Pavlowa got her legs
or Ty Cobb his batting eye.
Go on talking.
Only don't take my style away.
It's my face.
Maybe no good
but anyway, my face.
I talk with it, I sing with it, I see, taste and feel with it,
I know why I want to keep it.
**** my style
and you break Pavlowa's legs,
and you blind Ty Cobb's batting eye.
1.3k
those aren't dreams, those are goals
I stopped using that puny voice
and hiding behind the avocados
in my cobb salad. and who are
you to to define the space between
my fingers, the gaps between my
teeth? Dear Wyatt, feel honored
because for a moment you breathed
my dreams.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 10:28 PM UTC
“Clear the way, boys, clear the way” said Meagher astride his steed.
The fighting sixty- ninth stepped forth, they were not afraid to bleed.
Upon St Marye’s heights Cobb’s Georgians waited, behind a low stone wall.
The lads attacked that stout defense – how senseless was it all.
There were Irish too up on the hill and they saw the Emerald flag.
“Oh God, what a pity! Here come Meagher’s fellows” one Irish rebel said,
But all obeyed the order given; to fill the air with lead.
The sixty-ninth could not reply, they all carried antique stock.
Muskets are no match for rifles at the distance they attacked.
They climbed that rise into a storm of canister and shot
They got as close as 40 yards before their surge was stopped.
Sixteen hundred had started out from the little town below,
They took the fight as far as any of mortal flesh could go.
As darkness fell upon the field there were wounded men and dying.
Some muttered prayers in their foreign tongue, how pitiful their crying.
It was a dark December for the army Burnside led.
Fourteen assaults in all repulsed with eight Thousand Union dead.
With eighty percent casualties Meagher’s boys had it worst of all:
Fewer than three hundred were left to answer the roll call.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 11:16 AM UTC
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 9:48 PM UTC
1. Read extensivly.spell like a 5th grader
2.my lil bro is a player hater.
3. Have no phobias . Spider webbs make me nervous.
4.I have a real skeleton in my closet. Was a medical student.
5. I hate green eggs and ham.
6.dont know any momma jokes.
7.my cats name is kujo.
8.hope one day to have a room next to ty cobb
9.seriuosly?
10. Am ambidextrous
9.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
In a dream,
Nothing like this.
Coming to reality, but
Everything is so strange.
People always
Telling me which way to go. All
I want is to go back to my dream land.
Only than wanting to go back to reality.
None-the-less this is how I dream.
?
"*Dreams feel real while we're in them. It's only when we
wake up that we realize something was actually strange.*"
~Cobb (Inception)
Mar 20, 2011
Mar 20, 2011 at 9:49 AM UTC
I.
Never tell anyone anything.
Never remember anyone.
Never explain yourself to anyone.
Never cry in front of anyone.
Never imagine a happy future.
Never picture yourself with anyone.
Never miss anything.
Never care about anything too much.
Never be mean to anyone.
II.
It is dark and cobb-webby in here and I have got to
Shake it out.
Untouchable: my skin grows chilled and
Raw. Lack of interaction,
Severed from a collective
Norm.
Step aside the dark.
Don’t be naïve.
Believe in it.
Never believe in good.
Never believe in a savior.
III.
Never believe that you worthy of anything
Or anyone.
IV.
Light candles.
Read Vonnegut.
Never let anyone know.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
Sitting in the place
Everyone wants to be.
Watching the world go by
Without me.
Following a routine set out for me
Day by day.
The endless prüfun.
On and on.
Living like Cobb,
Trapped in a dream.
A dream meant to satisfy,
Yet keeps me prisoner.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 3:56 PM UTC
As my eyes cracked open....
And my thoughts begin to turn...
A morning light,
shines onto my head....
With thoughts from a dream,
still in my head.....
I have fog from the night,
and cobb webs in my head....
I thought it was a dream,
yet it was a drunken night....
I felt an illusion,
come into my life.....
It was a girl,
that made the night....
Yet I can't remember,
if I had *** last night....
A note in lipstick,
written on the wall....
That said:
You were awesum last night,
give me a call....
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 6:52 PM UTC
"Why do you think about death so much?" My mother says to me one evening as I eat a cobb salad.
My mother is imaginary.
In this dream, I come up with some funny rhetoric and she laughs a pearly laugh and suddenly I'm 12 again:
My childhood best friend snorts milk out of her nose and this makes her laugh more. I don't understand what's so funny.
Suddenly she stops and looks at me with doe eyes.
"Why do you think about death so much?"
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 1:09 AM UTC
Please
Out of the gutter where we discovered true love
Please don't steal from me
Let me show you how to do laundry
Let's stray from the microwave and boil an egg
Those dishes ain't gonna clean themselves
Everything has its place on the shelf
Please nurture my insecurity
When your near me
The Cobb webs in the corner will secure our days
The moths will notify our lethargy
Just don't ever leave me
Did I stutter?
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 2:58 AM UTC