I never rely on heat
I’m more of a finesse pitcher;
perplex them with curveballs
and screwballs
and a sinker
that drops faster
than the freefall ride
at Great Adventure
I keep ‘em guessing
and figure that
I’m okay
as long as they don’t
figure out my fastball
isn’t worth a shit
I rely on guile
and the ability
to keep my foes
off balance and unable
to concentrate
on the incoming pitch
They’ll accuse me
of throwing a spitter
but they never find
any Vaseline on my cap
and I’m okay
as long as they
keep grounding into double plays
and popping up to shortstop
It goes to show
that sometimes
having a brain
can be a good thing
It just might get you
through a few jams
and wriggle your way out
of those annoying
bases loaded
with nobody out
in the top of the eighth
kinds of situations
1-18-98
Thank you
Nice write
Love baseball
Koko
Poetry is passion,imagination & soul mixing together....
Words
a baseball poem as poetic
a baseball poem as poetic curveball. Keep the batters guessing. thank you for reading and commenting.