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"slugger" poems
Hog Butcher for the World, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of the Big Shoulders: They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys. And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it is true I have seen the gunman **** and go free to **** again. And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women and children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger. And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them: Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning. Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities; Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness, Bareheaded, Shoveling, Wrecking, Planning, Building, breaking, rebuilding, Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth, Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs, Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle, Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse. and under his ribs the heart of the people, Laughing! Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.
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Chicago
Hog Butcher for the World, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of the Big Shoulders: They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I have seen your painted women under the gas lamps luring the farm boys. And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it is true I have seen the gunman **** and go free to **** again. And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the faces of women and children I have seen the marks of wanton hunger. And having answered so I turn once more to those who sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer and say to them: Come and show me another city with lifted head singing so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning. Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities; Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning as a savage pitted against the wilderness, Bareheaded, Shoveling, Wrecking, Planning, Building, breaking, rebuilding, Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with white teeth, Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man laughs, Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost a battle, Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse. and under his ribs the heart of the people, Laughing! Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.
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bring it little Louisville Slugger poised for action hits just the right spots crack of the bat such simple satisfaction smack down straight into the crowd hungry for the win eyes light up its another   homerun baby
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May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
Batter Up
I’m going to solve my problems By fixing you! That sounds like the perfect thing For me to do. Life would be fine for me if you Did not insist On carrying on all the time and Getting me ****** You keep on ignoring me when I Tell you what to do. Everything would go just right. It’s up to you. Do what things like I tell you to It’s best for you. You never manage things as Well as I do. I’m amazingly organized and You are not. You haven’t the gift for it like I have got. You’d just mess things all up For me to fix. I’m not stupid, you know, I’m Onto your tricks. You get the wrong thing because You did not hear What I was saying went in and Out of your ear. Things always need to be done A certain way. And they would be if you would just Recall all I say. I swear I don’t know what you’d do Without me. You’d turn into some kind of major Chaos factory. We’re much better off if you just Do as you’re told. This petty bullheadedness is Getting rather old. Because all that is wrong with me Is the stuff you do. I would be a success story if it Wasn’t for you. You manage to ***** things up by Not following rules. Nothing would ever get built without The proper tools. But things will get better soon, I promise you that, Because a hot new slugger has come Up to bat. I’m taking over everything so You just lean back. In no time at all I’ll have your life Right back on track.
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Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
GROUND CONTROL
I peer out the broken glass and what do I see but a flock of little ***** running away from me, all but one, standing in defiance of fear louisville slugger in hand waiting for what comes. I walk out the door with spalding in hand I stand beside her and gaze at the destruction done by her hand. 160 feet if it were an inch , impressive drive for a 13 year old girl. all anger gone, there was not much to begin. A 30 dollar window a small price to see her grin, I handed her back her ball, and with my own grin, nice hit little one, a dollar for everyone I find in the backyard I say. 180 feet over the roof and we went our way. her to her friends with bragging rights and the moment in tact. me to the lumberyard for plywood shutters for the rest of the glass, grinning in anticipation of the days to come.
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Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 2:54 PM UTC
The slugger
It happened several years ago But it is a true story in the flow A Senior Citizen woman being my Grandmother She was a strong woman like no other She worked as a Board Of Education Lunchroom Manager at P.S. 202 in Brooklyn, New York As my Grandmother was leaving on a regular day, a Mugger was getting ready to pounce It all happened on the busy street of Atlantic Avenue My Grandmother was on her way to the Doctor But when she got in the middle of the street, the mugger showed his attack mystique However, the Mugger didn’t know he was in for a surprise Yet my Grandmother showed that Mugger her realize She literally knocked the mugger off his feet The Mugger tried another attempt in attack being another retreat Well my Grandmother showed that Mugger, this senior citizen was determined to not be beat What do you think happened? The Mugger got sacred and ran off Now my Grandmother 5’ 5’ being short, but I never said she was weak Big things come in small packages My Grandmother being the Biblical David and defeating Goliath being the Mugger My Grandmother’s response being her slugger power She reigned supreme and that Mugger knows what that means This is a true story and I am being honest Senior Citizen’s have more power than Social Security, and their strength being their unity.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 7:06 PM UTC
SENIOR CITIZEN GETS TOUGH
they convinced you that it's right so keep yo ***** locked tight till your honeymoon night when your man will rock ya right but if yo man's a ****** too it won't happen like ya reckon cuz when he stick it in he'll be done in 2 seconds ya been waitin' all your life for that magic first bangin' but instead you're left hangin' and a hoochi hole crampin' a pretty diamond ring and limp ding-a-ling no lovin', no 'gasm just a sore hoochi spasm you shoulda' known better you shoulda' got some practice you want a hot lover not a 2 second slugger so dump his *** girl! and do it real quick being stupid ain't bliss virginity's ********
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
What They Don't Tell Virgins
I thought about how, if I were able to enter other people's minds, that the world would seem to take on different hues of experience; dark, bright, gentle, sharp, doomy, gloomy, fuzzy, scary, warm, cold, a warmish coldish synthesis diving between a freezing.. naked.. sorry slugger on a dimly lit island in the dead center of the ocean thinking of how black and desolate a place the world is only because the potential for cold pangs of death wish are there at all (whatta shock!) whilst he's passed a blanket by a friendly nowhere pedestrian and all of a sudden with the help of some agency in the cold night, he is warm with the freeze only nipping at exposed heels and neck and nose and face. sitting empty, expecting nature to clothe him, he forgot that nature includes his ability to sew quilts.. adorn himself in developed fur.. accept help from the endless parade of nowhere pedestrians eyeing with worry, compassion.. that this concern is as intrinsic to universe as empty breathless space and biting, flatulent wind..
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Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
nowhere pedestrian
The sound of thunder Long since heard Off the grain of a Louisville slugger Shakes the sleep from the eyes The dawn from the air And puts dangerous respect Back into these young lives
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Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 3:00 PM UTC
Morning BP
Once upon a time i wrote every day Sun, rain, shine, snow, sleet or rain anytime was a good time for this pain for now my chest bear a different pain self hate to respect, fake love to the real thing sounds so positive.. doesn't it? our negative pains bares similarity to the positive with different meaning every new father knows the feeling once young and full of braun every lost bar fight left the marks negative pain of loss, sorrow filling what was once pride now mature and becoming the coach to their little slugger positivity fills the memory of the first hit, misery follows the groin where the ball meets in retrospect the ideology of pain, regardless of why, remains the same learning experience
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Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 3:33 AM UTC
past
It happened on a snowy night Not very long ago My wife and I were sleeping But I was tossing to and fro We awaken to an awful noise One we'd never heard before The sound of it was frightful And I knew I had to explore It wasn't in the closet Or the kitchen where we eat It wasn't the dog for he was there Cowering at our feet It wasn't in the attic For no footsteps were heard at all I picked up my Louisville slugger As I wandered down the hall It wasn't in the living room Or on the bathroom floor I crept downstairs with bat in hand As I opened the basement door Each step would seem like hours As I quietly held my breath One mistake could bring me closer To a most untimely death I fumbled with the light switch Anticipation filled the air The moment of truth had finally come To see what monster was there Now that I have your attention I hope you're ready to scream For none of this really happened It was only just a dream I'm sorry about the ending But you really should have known This is the kind of poems I write Whenever I'm alone
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Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 9:48 AM UTC
The Noise
There's nothing more we can sell our bodies for Nothing that we have been taught our inadequacy can compensate for That the slugger is just a slugger, a boy who hits a ball hard The only thing he's got going for him is his ability at swinging a bat And so here lies my problem. How do you explain Explain to a 12 year old boy that we aren't what we used to be. That the go getting, hard *** approach died How do you explain to someone, its not over before it began, try again How do you look in the eyes of a child and say I'm sorry
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Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 1:26 AM UTC
Wrong man's eyes
You'd think an apology was An anchor tied to your leg While in the middle of the ocean Or a pair of pliers attached to molars With firm grip ready to pull at full strength With capability of permanently bruising your jawbone You'd think an apology was a Louisville Slugger to the knee Yeah you'd rather take all your winnings and flee Even when those w's were bought with my own backbone You'd take my joy Devour those moments like strawberry scones Washed down with your choice of ice cream and coffee Laugh it off and label me softie Even when strangers would mistakenly Label me menace With permanent grimace When I turn ghoulish and disappear You'd feel bad Say you miss your best friend Hurts to say you'd just miss using me While I was the fool who didn't mind Yeah he believed in Helping one of his Best Friends  make it in life Sad to say that you don't care for me Constantly joke about me getting close to ending mine I'm glad that when I pulled the trigger It was capsules in bottles Not the full blown steel Now I won't feel Bad when you cry saying you feel like a loser At this point evidence to confirm Your own conception Has quite honestly buried me alive When I distance myself for good Just know that It's all because you were to careless on several occasions To even mumble a measly Sorry
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Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 6:03 PM UTC
Is It That Hard To Say Sorry (My Only Sister)
Another world championship comes into view that is, if the pitching holds up and they maybe get Coby from Detroit. And maybe work Glybe Torres and Andular and Clint Fegie into the scheme of things and maybe Requito Kyle Schwarbe from the Cabs That's quite a few ifs but sure they got the premier slugger in baseball he sounds like even ore of an CBI man than Judge and will make them pitch to Judge more. He sounds like a great public relations figure and the endorsements will motivate him too... Maybe he'll be the designated hitter as opposed to Schwarbe or else he'll take up on outfield, right field slot, then the Yankees could move Aaron and trade Brett Gardner for a pitch My Yankees are back in the business of bringing Romans to New York again. The Kicks are back for me too having hung out in NYC for a while among other reasons
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Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 3:18 PM UTC
The Giancarlo Stanton Yankee Stadium
Words cut deep, I'm told From that appearance, I'm holding hot steel Against your throat made of pure gold. Sinking into soft metals deep cuts, Swift ****** and twist up to unjust They must want to see themselves implode While i blow off four bullets at once Like Bayonetta, I bust guns from my heels. The scrawny white guy with a case of the feels But if you look into my eyes, Behind the blinds, you'll see my mind Spinning thoughts like a reel 2 reel. I'm a professional at wordplay, A mercenary looking to slay any hate Like corn, I stalk, until I can pop up from the wait. In vegetables, I'm non-gmo, every word homegrown With organic tones that could never be cloned. A smile like a crocodile, no gators, Notice my behavior, look at my toothy grin, Luring all the little fishes in. Don't try to bludgeon me with bludgers I'm a beater beating back every slugger, While you waffle with a quaffle Gluing my head on straight so it won't topple In a brothel of a world, Everyone seems to look for a temporary fix I want to keep it a hundred fifty, Shining golden like a snitch
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Jan 8, 2020
Jan 8, 2020 at 12:06 AM UTC
No apologies
Sometimes you gotta just know when to quit . Just like the old time slugger who's bat is just a little slow Or that aging quarterback With less velocity on his throw You just keep on hoping For that one more moment In the sun To re live some of that glory When the game seemed much more fun You've given it your all Left it all out on the field But no matter how hard you try The truth has become revealed Your true and loyal fans Have turned to someone else To give them that special magic That with you they felt It's then you come to realize That maybe you should go Leave with what little pride you have left Its time to leave " the show " It's really kind sad how You've done so much for them But they'd rather look to someone else Instead of appreciate you again
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Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC
Sometimes you just gotta know