Month: September 2008

The Rhyme of the Basement Mariners

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Eulogizing one of the worst teams in major league history;
Batter Up

The Rhyme of the Basement Mariners
Eulogizing one of the worst teams in major league history.

One team is two disgusting
to describe in PG words.
Three outs may well end an inning,
but the bleeding’s undeterred.

Four balls let you walk to first base.
Putz will likely take the fifth.
Even Niehaus needs a six pack
to pretend the truth’s a myth.

Seventh inning stretches used to
be a time to celebrate.
But this year the game’s decided
before inning number eight.

While it’s true cats have nine chances
to bounce back before they die,
our team’s dead. They’re cellar dwellers.
With their payroll we ask WHY?

As they usually say at Wrigley,
“Just you wait until next year!”
But that seems too trite at Safeco.
We need major changes here.

  • J. J. Putz is the Mariners’ erratic closer. Last year he was a hero with 40 saves. This year Putz has been anything but a hero.

** Dave Niehaus has been the Mariners’ play-by-play announcer since the team’s debut in the American League in 1977. This past summer he was inducted in the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame as one of the best baseball broadcasters of all time.

*** The 2008 Mariners are the first major league team with a payroll of over $100 million to lose at least 100 games in a season.

Batter Up
A creative alternative to presidential debates.

Forget debates. Let’s have a slug fest
in historic Fenway Park.
Who can clear the big Green Monster?
Grab a bat and eye the mark.

“Mick” McCain can’t reach the fences.
Something ’bout an injury.
Says he got it as a prisoner
standing up for liberty.

All the same he has the knowledge
how to loft a ball that far.
Having been around the bases,
he’s the only real all-star.

“Babe” Obama sure looks pretty
in his well-pressed baseball pants.
But he just stands there (bat on shoulder)
in his “Aren’t I handsome?” stance.

Neither one has home run power.
Still let’s watch them try to hit.
One will likely make SOME contact.
One will scratch and chew and spit.

The Pride of the Yankees Is No More

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

No storybook ending for a storied stadium

“The House that Ruth Built” was a home
we baseball fans claimed as our own.
A place unequalled through the years
where memories were born.

Yes, Gehrig and DiMaggio
still haunt its hallways (don’t you know?)
as do The Mick and Maris too,
Don Larsen and the like.

You still hear Yogi Berra’s growl
or see old Casey Stengel’s scowl.
In this old house the past lived on.
It’s where we all grew up.

It was the Yankees’ pride and joy
where dreams came true for Autumn’s Boys.
“The House that Ruth Built” gave the Bronx
a place in history.

But now this mansion’s quarantined.
No games. No fans. No pinstriped team.
I wonder if this building knows
its address is Death Row?

Its horsehide balls will be replaced
by wrecking balls. A damned disgrace.
This condemnation that I dread
gives mem’ries cause to mourn.

I grieve the passing of a friend.
A chum I’ve known since I was ten.
A playmate every Saturday
on Dizzy Dean TV.

Potholes on Wall Street

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Manhattan’s “Street of Dreams” under construction;
Overshadowed by a Running Mate;
In You, Lord, We Find our Courage

Potholes on Wall Street
Manhattan’s “Street of Dreams” under construction.

Manhattan’s famous “Street of Dreams”
is in much disrepair.
It’s dangerous to travel on.
The risk’s a real nightmare.

Yes, Wall Street needs some road work done.
It’s potholes are immense.
The Lehman brothers fell in one.
They’ve not been heard from since.

Those potholes must be filled somehow.
Before more meet their end.
We can’t imagine all is well.
We cannot just pretend.
 
 

Overshadowed by a Running Mate
What candidates and hurricanes have in common.

Ike was Gustav’s running mate.
The surge he caused made quite a wake.
His whirlwind tour of the Gulf
created quite a stir.

Like Sarah Palin and McCain,
Ike upstaged Gustav’s dull campaign.
He proved to be the stronger storm,
a force to reckon with.

And in the aftermath of Ike
of damaged buildings and the like,
we are reminded once again
there’s much we can’t control.
 
 

In You, Lord, We Find Our Courage
Timely words to timeless hymn tune.

In You, Lord, we find our courage
when the headlines trigger fear.
Help us focus on Your presence
that is always, ever near.
Thanks for nourishing our hunger.
Thanks for sheltering our sleep.
Thanks for promising salvation
when we face a grave so deep.

You remain our source of courage
when the market is besieged.
When the spinning winds of summer
find the Gulf States on their knees.
Storms of many kinds assault us.
We are vulnerable and weak.
As the dark clouds swirl around us,
help us Lord Your face to seek.

Note: The above poem can be sung to the tune for “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”

The Misnomer of Ground Zero

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

An Infamous landmark turns seven years old;
A Cultural Necessity

The Misnomer of Ground Zero
A infamous landmark turns seven years old.

Ground Zero is now seven.
A birthday that recalls
a more innocent time
when terrorists robbed our nation
of its child-like trust
and assumed sense of safety.

Ground Zero IS 9/11.
A grave reminder of the day
a pair of twins collapsed
and perished
while Mother Liberty
looked on in horror.

Ground Zero is a misnomer.
It is anything but
nothing, nada, zippo.
Its blood-soaked soil
hides seeds of hatred
fertilized by memories of anguish.

Ground Zero is nonetheless
hallowed ground near a market
whose stock and trade
continues to be carried out
in the shadow of a skyline
in which two notable towers
are sadly missing.

Ground Zero remains
the face of a nation
whose ability to smile
has forever been altered,
like a seven year old missing
her two front teeth.
 

A Cultural Necessity
The timeless place of poetry in our society.

There are times you need a poem
to express the pain inside.
Words fall short as feelings lengthen
and in sorrow thoughts can lie.
 
Poets have a way of sifting
through the rubble of our grief.
In their lyrical expressions,
mourners often find relief.
 
When they sense God’s holy presence
and are silenced by His grace,
they’re amazed how poets’ brushes
can portray His unseen face.
 
And when joy exceeds description
at a wedding or a birth,
there is nothing like a poem
to convey life’s deepest mirth.
 
Ever notice just how often
someone quotes some poetry?
In an ocean of emotion
rhyming verses calm the sea.
 
So when asked if I’m a poet,
I don’t wince and hang my head.
I can’t think of a vocation
that I’d rather claim instead.

Sarah Palin Needs Our Prayers

/ Greg Asimakoupoulos

Her family’s joys and sorrows are not unique;
Gustavus Among Us

Sarah Palin Needs Our Prayers
Her family’s joys and sorrows are not unique.

She has a son whose name is Track
who’s joined our forces in Iraq.
Her daughter Bristol (seventeen)
is in the family way.

She also has an infant boy.
Trig is her precious pride and joy.
He has Down Syndrome and has won
a place in all our hearts.

The Palin Family (just like ours)
has joys and sorrows, wounds and scars.
Theirs is a home that understands
the heartaches millions know.

So lest we whisper gossiped shame,
or judge this clan with sudden fame,
we would do well to face the mirror
and thank God for His grace.
 

Gustavus Among Us
Lessons from a killer storm.

A Swedish king has lent his name
to last week’s violent hurricane.
Like vicious Vikings of the past,
this killer came ashore.
 
With deadly aim Gustav arrived
determined we would be deprived
of peace of mind and stress-less bliss
while pillaging at will.
 
He stole the thunder from St. Paul
and in the process showed us all
that politics take second place
when lives are on the line.

His bark proved much worse than his bite
as Gulf Coast levees (strong and tight)
prevented what we mostly feared
and held the floods at bay.
 
It goes to show our plans and whims
are blown to bits by spinning winds.
Our confidence in what’s to come
gives way to what God wills.
 
We think we know what’s just ahead,
but who’s to say we won’t be dead.
In light of Gustav, live today
as if it were your last.