Hello All. Today’s prompt comes from Holly Lyn Walrath:
Go to a book you love. Find a short line that strikes you. Make that line the title of your poem. Write a poem inspired by the line. Then, after you’ve finished, change the title completely.
I chose a line from a wonderful work, so even if you don’t like my poem, please check out this perfect little book: A Drive into the Gap, by Kevin Guilfoile. It is an amazing story of mystery, joy, sorrow, Alzheimer’s, and baseball, all packed into a tight 69 pages. It is one of those rare books, that when you finish reading it, you hold it for a moment, then turn it over, and start reading it all over again. The last line of my poem, was the line I used as my working title inspiration, and is stolen from the book, almost verbatim. It was the only way I could do it justice.
You Never Know About a Day, Batboy version You never know how the day will go, What events will come your way. You never know if bad will turn to good, Or if clouds will continue to grey. You are fourteen and nothing fits, Puberty seems like a curse. If it were up to you, you would stay in bed. The day can only get worse. But you are a batboy, tonight there's a game So you get up and find your clothes. A long day ahead before you go to the park And you already stepped on some legos. You missed breakfast, you can’t find your shoes, There are bunches and bunches of chores. Mow the lawn, help with the dishes, And whose room needs cleaning, yours. How bad the day seems, how unfair and cruel. Your teenage mind screams in protest, I’m tired, and bored, and if I had Stayed in bed, I wouldn’t be being oppressed. Yet finally you complete all your domestic duties And uniform on, head off in high gear. You hope the day will take a turn for the better. The clouds in your head begin to clear. Your batboy duties start before the game Running errands, polishing helmets and shoes. It’s kind of like your chores at home, But without you singing the blues. Then you make a mistake and find yourself In trouble with a player from the opposing team. His shadow over you, he yells and swears. The hope for a good night, now a bad dream. That’s it, you think, why bother to try. You knew the day would be a bust. I should just stay home, covers over my head. No more sunny thoughts will I trust. You stew on the bench, storm clouds black in your head, As the jerk who yelled at you heads up to bat. A player from your team takes the seat next to you To make sure you are watching the rat. You never know when clouds will clear Or what events will happen in a day. On the short list of truly epic things that could happen to a fourteen year old boy in summer, A future Hall of Famer ordering an All-Star Pitcher To knock down an All-Star Shortstop because The shortstop was a jerk to you, Well, that blows them all away.
