"innings" poems
From the humblest of beginnings
Began a tough innings
A family deprived
His dad had died
So to work he went
To help pay the rent
From a teen to a man
In a short time span
He had many a job
Hard earned each “bob”
He was a keeper of bees
He picked beans and peas
With marbles and shanghai
He had a keen eye
So rabbits he’d stalk
Their pelts he sought
A butcher and baker
And fence post maker
A fisherman and fruiterer
And even spud picker
A shearer of great ability
Those shears he clicked with agility
From morn to night
He worked hard alright
Met a girl and made her his wife
Ten children now blessed his life
He provided as best he could
Forever working for their good
A large family and so little money
Life, of course, was not always sunny
Simply he lived, simple his dwelling
The trials he faced so very compelling
A ****** awful thing was done
A terrible tragedy stole his son
With grief immeasurable and untold
He held together; staying controlled
Children struggled to forgive their mother
As she left him and found another
Yet for her he would always stand
Always hoping to win back her hand
Another tragedy claimed a limb
We thought it would be the death of him
His work, his wife, his health now gone
Yet silently, painfully he continued on
We knew his heart was terribly broken
Yet always forgiveness he had spoken
We knew he lived with daily pain
But silent and strong he would remain
His strength and courage was beyond belief
But for him there would be no relief
His children were now all grown
He died, one night … alone
Jan 6, 2011
Jan 6, 2011 at 12:49 PM UTC
Hi, my name is briansies the older sibling, oh yeah
You see I am a bit different to the rest of the world
They like drinking themselves silly, and I simply don't
I want to sleep while others are still out
I never took off to another city at the heat of the moment
Because I worry about what could happen
Instead of actually playing proper sport
I will just settle for backyard sports
And I will enjoy that a lot, oh yeah
My highest score in a single cricket innings is 846 n.o
And I try to keep my score above my younger sibling
And he will say Briansies, what are you doing
And I would say, I just want to be more popular than you
And he would hit me with his rhythm fist, hit me oh yeah hit me
Hit me slowly, man and hit me quick, oh hit me hit me hit me
I would say, do you like hitting me
And he will say, I hit you all night long
I hit you baby, all night long, and if you can't take it, man
You are a baby, waaaa waaaaa waaaaaa
Then I said to him, hi, my name is Briansies, the older sibling, oh yeah
Then me and my sibling, and my father went for an early morning swim
And we body-surfed and splashed each other, yeah we had fun
My sibling would say, this is unfair, and dad would say
Oh, poor little baby, our splashing is making you very tender and weak
Ooh we had better stop, don't you reckon
And I wanted to be a friend to my sibling, so I said
Hi, I am bop, Briansies and I am ready to bop with you, oh baby ooh ooh
I want you to be happy, because I like boppin' around going bop bop bop
And I go right to the shop, yeah, I am bop, the guy down the shop
My sibling will call me a **** but it doesn't bother be, cause my name is
Briansies, the older sibling, oh yeah, and I am so cool, dudes
And that is what we want, just Briansies,
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 2:00 AM UTC
Does anyone remember when
Baseball fields were full
When you always saw a hundred kids
When you drove by every school
Pick-up games of baseball
On every field you'd pass
But now the only scrub that's there
Is just overgrown, clumpy grass
I drove on by a park today
One that I used to play baseball on
The backstop was all broken
And the dugouts, they were gone
The field was full of garbage
Weeds and echos of the past
I remembered times between the lines
With a long forgotten cast
"HEY MISTER...MOVE...WE'RE PLAYING HERE"
"CAN'T YOU MOVE SO WE CAN PLAY?"
"HEY BATTER, BATTER, SWING NOW BATTER"
"YOU'LL NOT GET A HIT TODAY"
I'd crossed into a baseball game
One from many years before
The ghosts of players long deceased
Were still playing here some more
I crossed back to the dugouts
Stepped behind and they were gone
But, as I stepped back to the old coaches box
I could hear their haunting song
"HEY BATTER, BATTER, BATTER, SWING"
"WE WANT A PITCHER, NOT A BELLYITCHER"
"HEY BATTER, BATTER, BATTER, SWING"
"WE WANT A PITCHER, NOT A BELLYITCHER"
I sat there watching the game take place
On a field not worth a ****
At least not in the present time
Then a kid hit a grand slam
He touched them all as he ran by
I saw it plain as day
The only thing I wished was that
I could join them and play
"HEY MISTER, STAND ON HOME PLATE"
"THEN COME WALK OUT TO THE MOUND"
"WE KNOW YOU WANT TO JOIN US"
"WE KNOW IT'S HALLOWED GROUND"
I did the tasks directed
I joined the players from ago
And as I ran up to the rubber
I went as fast as I could go
I could feel myself get younger
I didn't know if it was real
But, they say as you get older
You're just as young as you may feel
I pitched two good strong innings
Then the echoes chose to fade
I knew it was just imagination
Of long lost players I had made
"COME BACK AGAIN TOMORROW"
"YOU CAN THROW THAT PELLET KID!"
"WE'VE GOT TO GET ON HOME NOW"
and...go back...you know I did!
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 8:52 PM UTC
After a thoroughly enjoyable weekend
Which involved watching an animated science fiction thriller
Followed by a Football World Cup Final
Which turned out to be even more thrilling
I had to face the dreaded prospect
Of returning to work on a Monday
Yes, the notorious villain of the week
Which can ensure sleepless nights
Even for the strongest souls
Well, the day was actually not that bad
To begin with, at least
After a hot bath
Followed by an even hotter cup of filter coffee
Prepared by my dear mother, as ever
I had a simple breakfast
Consisting of a plate of chapatis
Mixed with some rather tangy marmalade
Thus, I was ready
To face the grind of work
Or at least, I thought I was
The reality turned out to be as different
As apples and oranges
It started with a few phone calls
However, the response was not flattering
Thus, I headed to lunch
In the hope of making some progress
In the second half of the day
However, I couldn't have been more wrong
The phone calls failed to achieve their purpose
As I was unable to obtain slots
For the interviews to be scheduled
Moreover, I was dealing with multiple stuff
At the same time
Which proved to be even more difficult
Than obtaining a seat in one of the IIMs
Time was playing a cat-and-mouse game with me
The closer I got to him
The more he would evade me
As the hours flew by
I kept meandering aimlessly
Without achieving anything tangible
By the time I finally got the hang of work
It was already well past 6 PM
And I felt as though I had wasted more time
Than a certain Sunil Gavaskar had done
In his infamous innings of 36 not out, off 175 *****
In the inaugural 1975 Cricket World Cup
Thus, I was thoroughly relieved
When the day finally ended
Returning to work on a Monday
Especially after a thoroughly enjoyable weekend
Is never good
Full stop
Dec 19, 2022
Dec 19, 2022 at 10:59 AM UTC
Letter from a dead man,
His souls up where is he?
Letter from a dead man,
To Heaven or hell he will see.
Letter from a dead man,
To where at can he be?
Letter from a dead man,
No more food can he feed,
Letter from a dead man,
His life's up as you read.
Scared so scared like the millions heard,
Scared of death and me,
Food for thought like the old man said,
An innings of eighty three,
Letter from a dead man,
Stand up remember thee,
Letter from a dead man,
His hymns sheets of real cacophony,
Letter from a dead man,
Sing up and let it be,
Letter from a dead man,
Switches off his life machine,
Letter from a dead man,
A celebration of his legacy
Buried treasured no mans land
In the hills of this cemetery,
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
Just remember him when he leaves.
Letter from a dead man,
To the point of its will,
Letter from a dead man,
No good when he's lying still,
Letter from a dead man,
No more laughs his body chills,
Letter from a dead man,
After he takes his last sleeping pill,
Letter from a dead man,
In Forever credible.
Disappeared no land frontier,
Tales to wander now,
Tears for fears after all these years,
Distinguished with a crown.
Letter from a dead man,
Shall he spell out to you now,
Letter from a dead man,
More ups than been downs,
Letter from a dead man,
Snarl bites from a vicious hound,
Letter from a dead man,
Safe grace under ground,
Letter from a dead man,
Not safe as it sounds.
Worry, Worry, Super Hurry,
To the day that they bereaved,
Money, Money not so funny,
Something changes as he leaves
Letter from a dead man,
Its with you that he thanks,
Letter from a dead man,
A new change of circumstance,
Letter from a dead man,
Sons&Daughters; admirals,
Letter from a dead man,
As love has a chance,
Letter from a dead man,
He's happy with its deliverance.
In days gone by I took to past,
Reflected on happiness as if to last.
So many wondrous days, jolly, quiet, crazily loved been raised.
In many parts chapter arts, like as youngsters we drove our racing carts,
I pinned a bullseye dart with an eye to target the centre of my whole being. Teenage days of bad school days to my first pint with the Trin! Laughter and such worked harder as much for the shackles I threw away!
Up, Up and away my off spring played with hay, did me proud as they made their way! Middle age to this very stage to people I've met. In love, friendship, peace and loyalty to you I will never forget.
Letter from a dead man,
Insane or nice you may think, but with a life time guarantee.
Letter from a dead man,
With r.I.p love from me..
O'Reily@05032013
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
the Boxing Day test cricket match
has just begun
with the Indian bowlers
out to stymie the Australian's run
they'll be keeping
their cherry ball deliveries tight
so the lads from Oz
don't get any easy flight
on the wicket there will be
a momentous Waterloo battle
the Indian side shall need
all of its line and length chattel
no loose ***** going awry
into the four's ditch
they'll have to be spot on
when sailing down the pitch
in the first session of play
India can't afford one mistake
or their teams shall be left
in the Aussie team's shattering wake
as the innings progresses
throughout the day
the Australian side
will surely be making hay
the pride of both cricketing nations
is at stake on the MCG
those vying to win the spoils of the test
shall require a flawless key
runs aplenty are on offer on the pitch
for the Aussie boys
so the Indian bowlers must forestall
their batting ploys
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
She was old when I first knew her
To an infant, parents are timeless;
Fairy aunts are just… old.
A tiny scarecrow of a thing,
Her eyes glittered; her mouth
Never offered an ill word of anyone.
She was a good woman. She never tired
Of talking about blind Jim – a good man –
With girlish love in her face;
One man, one love, one life
He wove wicker and filled mattresses
And listened to the wireless in the evening.
Her constant thought companion
As so many might-have-been heroes –
Gone, before I could know him.
Christmas would wend round each year,
With Meg as star guest,
Tipsy before the Queen’s Speech,
Whisky rouging her cheeks; fairy lights
Made envious by her laughter,
My mother, and hers, basking in gleelight.
I grew up there, every other Sunday,
Overlooking the Hospital and the Tay
From the safety of her living-room window,
Inventing spaceships and spies,
Dreaming of who I would be,
As my mother and Meg made small-talk.
Month by month, her daylight dimmed.
I never saw it. She was only ever her;
Happy, constant and true.

Afterwards, I learned about the
Vying accountants and surgeons,
Postponing, year and again,
The procedure. She told me, when finally
Her appointment was confirmed,
That when the cataracts were gone,
She was going to buy a ticket
For the number nine circular
And spend all day upstairs,
Just looking out of the window
At the city she’d lived in
For nigh-on ninety years
A week before the operation
Her home-help found her in bed, with Jim;
Smiling as they danced through the daisies.
She seemed no older when she died
Than when I first knew her.
A good innings, they all said.
Not enough.
If only by the length of a bus ticket –
not enough.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
As 2023 cometh to an end
Thankful am I, to have many a friend
Who have been there for me
Through an emotional rollercoaster of a year
Some of whom, are as dear
As a family member or a cousin
And who ensure that I don't sin!
Truly, this has been a tornado of a year
Many occasions there have been
When I have shed many a tear
Sometimes, the grass has been green
Other times, a mess of overgrown weeds
However, planted have been the seeds
For a new beginning
Though a lot of work is still pending!!
As the countdown for 2024 begins
Hoping am I, for a lot of things
To be cleared, are my dues
To be overcome, are my work blues
To be conquered, are my fears
With the help of my dears
To be fought, are my insecurities
To be handled, all are uncertainties
To be managed, is stress
To be bought, is a new dress
To be controlled, is my intake of sugar
Even if my problems get bigger and bigger
To be developed, is confidence
To be taken, are many a chance
To be less dependent on, are people
Else, get caught I might, in a tangle
And finally, must I be happy as I am
Including not giving a ****
About what the society may or may not think
While I enjoy a drink!
Just like every other year
To 2024, do I look forward
Hopefully, it may bring a reward
For all my sincere efforts
Even if I haven't followed all the dos and don'ts
You may see a new Ashwin
More capable of handling pain
I may even find love
Even if it doesn't seem possible right now
Finally learn, may I, how to say 'No'
Though the process may be slow
However, fear I need not
If I follow Jesus' teachings a lot
Because, he is the most important person
In my entire life
And will always save me when there is strife
To be learned from him, are many a lesson
Finally, to 2023, is it time to say goodbye
And leave all my anxieties high and dry
Dear 2024, do I welcome thee
With arms wide open
Let this be the beginning
Of a new innings
May we all smile more often
Even when not required
May all our pain be buried
And finally, may we all love each other
Including becoming friends across borders
Wish you all a very Happy New Year in advance!
Let us begin the dance!!
Amen!! Hallelujah!!
Dec 23, 2023
Dec 23, 2023 at 7:04 AM UTC
Which dreams do not knock,
That doorway was my vision,
More than my spoken words,
My silent innings were there,
But whence your feet came,
Thence my world is on the move.
The place of God was empty in my heart,
I observed your face in there today.
I am that maverick cloud long lost,
Which settled finally upon your sky.
If you are the soul then let me be the body,
Let me be your lifelong shadow.
If you tell me to then I will only be a recluse,
Else if you tell me I'll be your glamour.
You are the accompaniment, I am the melody,
You are the night, I am the moonlight.
The place of God was empty in my heart,
I observed your face in there today.
I am that maverick cloud long lost,
Which settled finally upon your sky.
Let stars be merciful to us,
Let fulfilled every desire be.
The ones we kindled together,
Let a newborn life be ours.
Let our small house be filled,
No evil eye should disturb us.
The place of God was empty in my heart,
I observed your face in there today.
I am that maverick cloud long lost,
Which settled finally upon your sky.
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 7:29 AM UTC
The sun is out in Jacksonville
Me oh my goodness gracious alive
Now that the Richter scale has calmed down
I'm happy to say, we've all survived
Hoping from the beginning we'd go extra innings
And that our side would win
Between the Suns owner and the fans who are moaners
We are now the Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp
So batter up you people
No need to be steamed it's just life
Though can you imagine the jokes from all of the folks
Might make us so boiling mad we could fry
And then there's the question of Southpaw
What's that mascot still doing here
I'm sure he can fetch but that's about it
Something smells fishy in this sailors beard
But I digress from where we should be
The theme is the name of the team
And I might be in hot water if I go any further
Without explaining what I really mean
Though you may not find
It very a-peel-ing
The way the owner did
In this fishy dealing
It might be to late but it's only a name
Try if you can to chow down on this
The teams still the same so come out to the games
No need for you to be so shellfish
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
Conversation watching cricket flows
Between corporate strangers who
Work together but know nothing of
The others’ lives outside the office
Where work-life balance is a myth
The bowlers bowl and the batsmen bat.
Not much happens between innings
On the field, but the action is in the
Stands, as wickets fall, the barriers
Between spectators vanish, and new
Understandings develop, all because
The bowlers bowl and the batsmen bat.
Wine that universal lubricant, moves
From polite engagement to introspective
Intent to solve all our corporate problems
The laser-like focus as new friends grow
Closer than that 22 yards seem as the
The bowlers bowl and the batsmen bat.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 5:42 AM UTC
say for example,
that you love to play baseball.
[it is your favorite thing in the world,
and you're quite good at it, too].
and before your game,
your coach says to the team,
"if we win, i'll take everybody to Pizza Hut!"
upon hearing this, the players' faces light up-
each one can taste the delicious stuffed crust that awaits them,
and visions of breadsticks dance through their heads.
the coach even brought a coupon book to allude to their possible futures...
just before the team takes the field,
the coach pulls you aside
and says,
"actually, i'm going to take the whole team to Pizza Hut
even if we lose."
well, you would know right then
that outcome of the game
is irrelevant,
but the true joy of playing
comes from competition regardless of winning or losing,
so you vow to play your best game ever.
however, everyone else on the team,
not knowing the ultimate truth,
will play very seriously,
but with great anxiety and nervousness.
they desperately want Pizza Hut,
but know that they might not getting it.
this game is the most important thing in the universe,
and it is the most serious test of all time.
every at-bat is tense for them,
each fly ball could result in ultimate damnation.
nothing is fun.
with tension and anxiety,
they strike out, play conservatively,
and don't take the risks that make the game enjoyable.
quickly, the team finds itself trailing by a few runs,
and sweating profusely because of it.
you, on the other hand,
would feel more relaxed during the game.
you would swing for the fences,
knocking a couple out of the park,
steal a base or two,
make a diving catch.
play your best game ever.
you can do this comfortably
because you realize that you're just playing for fun.
you're going to Pizza Hut after game, whatever the outcome!
soon, in your exuberance,
you'd let slip the secret to a couple other players.
you'd tell them, "guys, we were always going to Pizza Hut,
let's just have some fun while we play this game."
most of them rejoice!
[a couple real serious ones doubt you and resent you.
you'd surely smile, bend a knee, and applaud their solemnity.]
but in your state of joy you include the doubters,
and you let them believe what they will until the final innings over.
you think, they'll wake up soon enough.
with the last out made
and the last run scored,
maybe you look at the scoreboard and see yourself in the lead,
maybe you are a few runs behind,
but the smile on the coach's face says it all:
the peace and joy within you brought into your world happiness...
... and a large pepperoni pizza.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
How many Someone’s lay planked on their waist and stare aimlessly at the candle’s flame?
Who of You is daring enough to close Your eyes and in space alone, simply drive- drive away?
The same Someone’s and Who’s-of-Who’s, on occasion holler at the moon with expectation of a bark back; or is God but a prestige to fools that We allow to wear Normal on Their crummy ******* name tags?
Sometime around Christmas there is a salivating peace, sifting downward on ordinary people, whom really don’t feel like being cold, you know?
This is me, rotting away on the carpet, a blanket’s blanky for the floor, just staring through the shutters on the vent below my brow; in the reality of it, I should probably schedule a spring cleaning…not for the vent folks.
You see- and I’m trying to be as casual as I can- I’m about to ******* pass out, you know what I’m saying?
This is that incredible moment where I’m the Bob Feller of dozing off, 9 innings of shut-eye talent, but at 2 or 3 in the morning…it looks as though I’m bringing in Mariano Rivera to close it out,
I can almost smell the scraps of mowed grass, kicking up from his cleats as he jogs closer to where home is; I never really find out if he makes it to the mound…
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
in the annals of cricket
those of greatness get a mention
for what they've achieved on the wicket
these men stand head and shoulder
above the rest
their contribution
to the game
has
been written as the best
three men have inspired
younger players
in their homelands
they've accomplished
much on wickets
throughout the many cricket playing
lands
Steven Waugh(Australian Captain)
the master strategist
who had a captain's mind
replete with brilliant tactics
when he took to the pitch
the opposition teams
would quiver in their
collective boots
field placement
over deliveries
the weather conditions
all of these factors
actuated in his mind
so he could
bring an innings
of a notable kind
Sachin Tendulkar (Indian Batsman)
the king of the blade
who none can equal
in test matches
his cuts and cover drives
were worthy of an epic prequel
his style with the bat
twas magic to see
he had a prowess
of majesty
Vivian Richard (West Indies All Rounder)
he was never phased
he held his nerve
with the bat or the ball
a tradesman
who fielded what ever came at him
and in his relaxed style
chewed on a piece of gum
and demolish
the bails
with a Caribbean hum
cricket's hall of fame
that 22 yard pitch
where three greatest of the game
performances
did of fans
ever bewitch
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 6:45 PM UTC
It’s the top of the sixth, and
I don’t know the score;
If I am losing the game
I will have to score more. If
I am winning that’s good,
But the game might be tied, and
If it ended right now,
Would you know that I tried?
How many innings
Do we get to play?
That’s a question that no one
Can answer today.
The game might go nine, or
It might end after seven. Do
I have enough runs to get me
Into Heaven?
How did I play?
Good field – no hit?
Playing hard till the last out was made -
Never quit?
Did I hit some home runs?
Was I good in the clutch?
Help my teammates score runs
With sacrifice bunts.
It’s the bottom of nine
Doctor said, “Game’s almost done.
You have just enough time
To score one more run.
Get your teammates together
You gave it your best,
You played as well as you could
Now it’s time for a rest.”
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 9:31 AM UTC
Some people think I'm some nerd who has no girlfriend
But I've had more than most of them
So, who's laughing now?
But then yet, why the hell should his be a game?
Because it's not
Either way, I'm good
They don't mean anything when it comes to their words
Dust and dirt have more meaning to me
So get off your invisible high horse
You won't make my confidence hoarse
Its not even making my day worse
I strike out a few times but I win in extra innings
They just win in extra sinnings
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
I pay my ticket to enter the giant
concrete staircase on the periphery
of the bay of San Francisco.
***** Mays and other boyhood
heroes would do their magic
along this shore for so many years.
Now that I no longer feel the
baseball enthrallment–
because my body cannot see
itself moving with such speed and grace–
I dream of a different crowd.
Homer pitching the ball,
as someone must start the play;
Lao Tsu striking with wood
at what moves so fast it
can barely be seen.
Such hollow sound as ball
is soul-bound into the ether
of the Psalms. Emily
Dickinson snags the high hit.
The onomatopoeiac crowd
lifts its unified heart to
the resounding cheer of
Walt Whitman on grassy
outfield of bliss.
This warm day in the concrete
hang-out, I see in the concrete
dug-out such heavy hitters
lined up for a quick swat at glory.
Maybe something soothing
in between the innings–
an oriole or an Indian foot dance,
while I dream of dancing in my sox.
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 11:16 AM UTC
No one sets out that sets out to be this, when
this
is without anything.
I have dreams that travel
dreams that unravel the timbre
of time.
A full stop,
but I drop all pretension and
only mention this is as it is.
The fragrance always betrays me
when the desire arises within me,
we are the senses
if senses can
sense the end to a beginning.
Was it in the loss or in
the winning that
made being cynical the night watchman at the last
innings?
and who was it being
bowled and caught?
A file in a life full of files flies away.
I collide with each day that gets in my way
moving over for no one
on track for the big one
in time
and
in a time when time becomes clear to me
in the density and thoughts of eternity
where I collide again and again infinitely
I move over.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
It's 3
Am and I'm
Still
Up writing
Your paper
Explaining why you
Can't seem to stick,
Your commas in the
Right
Places.
It's 3
In the
Morning and
I am staring
At Ollie's
Baseball glove
Green ink scrawled
With poems
Which he reads
When the third innings
Are dull When
***** become too trivial to
Catch.
It's 3
In the
Morning and I
Am sick and
Tired of watching
You make out
With
Every
Girl
You pick up
At this
Phoney
School.
It kills me.
You have no idea
How it
Kills me.
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 9:35 AM UTC
Welcome to me too.
Thanks for coming in high-altitude, if you're really into them.
There are new-tutorials, and I'm not going to need one.
Why not do the news? I love plain and simple.
Free-market sloping losses will do this;
because of bipartisan politics.
Luyendyk news is crowded by Audi's and by partisan politics;
I don't like my partisan politics.
Star tutorials are tutorial-soon.
This is a new tutorial for my into being given to the jury
in tutorial.
People present their uh dreams,
and a jury room is like love;
a little atmosphere me in a circle,
meaning we are (he is) related to the moon .
I'm the serving the Newburgh tutorial right now
around this one:
The new green play I'm into.
This one’s just a little on the Brumbies
cuz glass needs it to learn.
I am the circus mom pursuing your doom;
a mistaken rampant around jug-glass John,
inputting the bar’s shiny leading to the bottom-thanked step.
Number one is singing your doom on.
Be an unloaded nerd, like a dump truck dumping dirt into our hearts
while holding the whole lamar,
and perfecting the bar starting with p.
Put on the range
near the whole ecosystem in a in a bubble.
Second thing you gotta do is earn it,
you do this, but we plan to our dirt up to nine innings.
love things American
like me
in the new godliness.
99 dramas trapped under so now I'm a real utah zombie,
and lines,
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
Out on the diamond
a great place to play
I could watch those boys
hitting and running all day
Grab a seat in the bleachers
and shout out "Hooray"
out on the diamond
a great place to play
The shortstop looks restless
he flies to the bag
the catcher throws down
and he puts down the tag
the runner hears "out"
as they put him away
out on the diamond
a great place to play
The pitcher's a lefty
and throws a mean curve
that last one was filthy
just watch that thing swerve
the three hitter K'd
slams his bat on the plate
out on the diamond
he swung it too late
The innings were short
but the game was a treat
as we watch the away team
go home in defeat
the best gem of April
is opening day
out on the diamond
the best place to play
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC
So we are taught that the need for greed is greater than the need for nothing at all
and nothing at all is what kite flyers get when they let go of the string,
it's a hollow thing
when your stomach rings out the hour on the hour
and your power of locomotion was left in the pawn shop
the one stop
to top up your wallet or purse
could be worse
that packet of peas in the kitchen will please as you check book recipes for a pea dinner
on a winner or not
the day's still quite hot
so you save on the heating
you also save on the eating when you find that the mice have eaten all the peas
mice do just as they please.
I wish I was a mouse
paying no rent for my house
and eating dried peas.
So the scene's being set for a bet on the horses
the bingo's a no go
because the callers a know it all and he caught you cheating
that's why you would have been eating peas
if the mice hadn't of beaten you to the kitchen
do you
understand that the balance of probability is out of your hands
as you hand in your wager
to the girl at the counter and she counts out your winnings
and you think that it's cricket and go in for one more innings and lose the whole wedge
We're on the edge and we're tipping as the whole world starts ripping us apart.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 11:25 AM UTC
In my head I’ve been hoarding impressions of contemplation
My thoughts have run on for extra innings
But if you ask me what I’m thinking about
My mind draws a serious blank
So I say I’m dreaming of death-
How, when, and where it will come
Cause I’m quite aware I could expire before the milk in the fridge
And yet I’m filled with heavy burdens which don’t allow me to fully live
While everyone around me is working on self-improvement,
I choose self-destruction
Perhaps I’ve always gone against the grain
But the past is a broken mirror and I can’t see myself straight
And as I sit in clouds of smoke and think how there aren’t
Enough days, enough seasons, enough of the world to go around
And the billionaires are lucky since they’ll get first dibs on a new planet
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
i never expected myself to be at the point
where i would chew on dead flowers
to numb the pain even though
i have no ******* idea where the pain
comes from.
i don't know if it's because you're
a nine and a half hour drive away
and you're not
around to tell me that i look
**** in a shirt that's 3 sizes too big for me
and a pen in my mouth
when i'm trying to write something
romantic but then end up writing
about packing a bowl with 2
older guys in the back of a '79
ram.
my life revolves
around coffee and twisted dreams
that i don't want to wake up from
and double plays that end innings
and cigarettes and boys with tattoos
and waist-length hair and
it could be because those are the only
things in my life
that have ever been permanent.
-z. vega
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 5:33 AM UTC
What's life without a role model?
A Slytherin without ambition
A Hufflepuff without loyalty
A Ravenclaw without curiosity
And finally
A Gryffindor without courage
All of us have role models
Well, maybe not those poor souls
Who aim to achieve as much in their lives
As have done Bermuda
When it comest to cricket
Well, I know I will be asked
Who is my role model?
It is the one and only Harris Jayaraj
A musician who produces magic
Which sweeps you off your feet
And transports you into a whole new universe
Where all your dreams come true
And every unhappy memory of yours vanishes
With just a lazy flick of his wand
A wand that can be bested not
Even by the legendary Elder Wand
Dear Harris Sir,
You are my inspiration
The key that unlockest the door
Beyond which, lies my true potential
The sheer variety of music
Which lies in your repertoire
Doth make proud
Even a Hans Zimmer or a John Williams
Therefore, it cometh not as a surprise
That one of them is your idol
Everyone heaps a ton of praises
On your captivating melodies
Which, of course, is thoroughly well deserved
However, it is your background music
Which, according to me, is the gamechanger
Because it doth transform even the most boring movies
Into a spectacle of entertainment
Recall the famous India vs Australia Test match
At Eden Gardens, Kolkata, circa 2001
From a certain innings defeat
To a glorious victory
Was a transformation par excellence
Thanks to the sheer magic produced by three people
For whom the word "impossible"
Doth not exist in the dictionary
Thou hadst achieved the same
With a snooze fest of a movie, known as "Vaaranam Aayiram"
Thy BGMs playing the role of the Pied Piper of Hamelin
A movie that deserved to be a flop
Ended up becoming a hit
Thanks to Harris, the one man army
Dear Harris Sir,
You are my inspiration
Not because you have achieved many a success
But because you give up not
In the event of a failure
And even that has happened not
For want of trying
Dear Harris Sir,
You are my inspiration
Even if your fame has reached the mighty skies
The word "pride" doth not exist in your dictionary
Your greatness truly lies
In your sheer simplicity
Not to mention, your acute awareness
Of yours strengths and weaknesses
Dear Harris Sir,
You are an inspiration
Not only to me
But also to millions of aspiring artists
Because there is so much to learn from you
And it is not all about music
Your hard work and dedication
As well as your willingness to learn
And keep on learning
No matter how far you have progressed in life
Sets an example for all of us
I would like to end on this note
Once a Harris fan, always a Harris fan!
Sep 29, 2023
Sep 29, 2023 at 1:54 PM UTC