Poetry Jeff Bender — October 21, 2013 12:36 — 2 Comments
Rose Poem – Jeff Bender
If anyone wants to win a World Series you know where to find me
think Cincinnati
northern Kentucky
a white C on my cap
bleeding Red red
number fourteen
Charlie Hustle
Red Machine
here I am laughing with Griffey
here I am chatting with Morgan
here I am managing the team I’m playing for
here I am leading off
and here I am playing second
and here I am playing first
Remember him?
Remember that guy?
Of course we do, you say, but
But what?
I admitted to what you were going to say
I wrote a book about it and nobody wanted to ask me about it
And I didn’t want to talk about it
They wanted to talk about the other thing
I didn’t want to talk about that, either
They asked me whether I thought Jeter would make three thousand hits and I said I thought he would
They asked whether I thought he’d make four thousand and I said I didn’t think so
here’s me stealing home
here’s me barreling around first base at the All-Star game
nobody’s going to stop me from scoring
and I’m not even that fast
but get me on base
I’ll bunt
I’ll walk
a walk is as good as a run
next question
I don’t want to talk about that
next question
no comment
next question
okay here’s the thing about that
take all of them
Ruth
Aaron
Jeter
Kilbrew
Boggs
Junior
Ichiro
Ripken
Carew
Robinson
Gwynn
Cobb
Yaz
Molitor
Yount
Brock
Palmeiro
Henderson
Mays
Wagner
Clemente
Winfield
Stan
Eddie
George
Cap
Tris
and then me
and then take me
four thousand two hundred fifty-six hits
now
nobody’s going to beat that
I don’t care who you are
my competition died in 1921 his name was Ty Cobb
don’t talk to me about Ichiro
great player
great player
I’m better
next question
can you repeat the question?
the question was “How many hits does it take to get into the Hall of Fame?â€
that’s a pretty good question
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What am I?
Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies
Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;
Scientists can't find me.
Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—
Remind me:
The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…
Tick, Tock: Divine me.
-- Richard Kenney
A Baseball Family we are, and your creativity and perspective really shows in this wonderful poem!
So proud of you in every way.
That’s a pretty good poem.