The gods place bets with loaded dice
And all our earthly dreams betray,
But listen to one clown's advice,
Goodbye, cruel world; it’s opening day.
The politicians scrounge for power,
With consequences we shall pay.
But somewhere, it's our finest hour,
Goodbye, cruel world; it's opening day.
Our weary age is full of war,
The daily news brings dark dismay,
So surf the dreams worth living for,
Goodbye, cruel world; it’s opening day.
The daily news brings dark dismay,
So surf the dreams worth living for,
Goodbye, cruel world; it’s opening day.
-- el duque, 2008 --
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3 comments:
Happy New Year, everyone.
Opening Day hums beneath a restless sky,
Pinstripes gleam where hopeful seasons lie,
The crack of bats cuts through the April chill,
A promise rising from the Bronx’s will.
Vendors shout and flags begin to sway,
As if the world could pause for just this day,
Nine innings set against a larger stage—
A quiet answer to a louder age.
Across the seas, the headlines twist and turn,
Borders harden, distant tensions burn,
Voices clash in chambers cold and grand,
While here, a child clutches a foam-filled hand.
The pitcher winds—time briefly holds its breath,
No thought of markets, diplomacy, or death,
Just ball and glove, the arc, the swing, the cheer,
A fragile peace that somehow settles here.
For in this game, so simple and so old,
A different kind of story can be told—
Where rivals meet yet play by common rules,
And hope outlives the noise of fractured schools.
So let the first pitch echo, crisp and true,
A small reminder breaking through the blue:
That even as the world feels torn apart,
There’s still a field that steadies every heart.
Carl's a Poet
Buy 'em a Moet
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