If the indictment of Barry Bonds for perjury has given you a case of The Baseball Blues (because it tarnishes further our National Pastime, or reduces the value of your Bonds memorabilia), we will spare you further discussion of the tragedy here at f/k/a.
If, on the other hand, you really want to know what the blawgisphere is saying on this topic, you’ll find an issue and link summary at “Barry Bonds Indictment for Perjury” (LegalBlogWatch, Nov. 16, 2007). Will he use the “literal truth defense“? (and is this really “white collar crime?); how much time is Barry facing? Is he gonna get in the Hall of Fame? (And, for a cluster of news links on the indictment, see How Appealing)
Old Timers Game
the glint of a mirror
in the centerfield bleachers
fireflies…
the smallest boy hits
the game winning homer………………………. by ed markowski
The antidote to Barry Bonds Agita? Serious immersion into Baseball Haiku, of course — either on our all-season f/k/a Baseball Haiku Page, or (for the truly fortunate) by spending extra innings with the naturally-bulked up, 200-page volume Baseball Haiku (Cor van den Heuvel and Nanae Tamura, eds., W.W. Norton Press, April 2007), which we’ve spotlighted with sampled poems by our Honored Guests in many postings, such as here, there, here, can there.
If you’ve already got a Kindle, you can be reading Baseball Haik: the book in moments for just $9.99!
late innings
the shortstop backpedals
into fireflies
April rain
my grandson practices
his infield chatterSeattle sunset
Ichiro sends one
toward the Sea of Japan
summer loneliness . . .
dropping the pop up
i toss to myself
lightning…
i lose jeter’s pop-up
in a blaze of static……………………………… by ed markowski
Big Cheer: At the same time that the Bonds indictment was clouding our autumn skies last week, the Baseball Gods (or maybe it was the Patron Saint of Baseball Fans) put a wonderful ray of sunshine in the ears of the f/k/a Gang: We accidentally found two minutes of Ed Markowski baseball poems in tiny media files hidden on our hard drive. They were recorded in April 2006, by Joe Harnett, longtime radio host of The Old BallGame.
rainy night
a hole in the radio
where a ballgame should be
We told you about Joe Harnett and linked to his four one-minute readings of Ed’s poems, in our post markowski: in your ear & “at the ballgame” (April 12, 2006). Unfortunately, the The Old BallGame website is no longer accessible, the original links are broken, and we feared that we would never be able to listen to Harnett read Markowski again. Therefore, this discovery of two of the four Cuts made even Prof. Yabut smile. It’s especially surprising, because Your podcast pariah Editor has never knowingly downloaded any MP3 file from the internet. Through the wonders of our cyber-klutziness, however:
You can now click to hear Cut One and Cut Two (of the four original cuts).
As we wrote in April 2006: Most of the selections already appear on our f/k/a Baseball Haiku page. But hearing them so well rendered orally adds a great new dimension. (The only thing we’d do differently is to leave out the Asian sounds — Ed’s poetry and the game sounds are All-American.) Whether you use eyes, ears, or both senses, please let Markowski help you forget about Bonds.
first red leaves
i swing late
on a change-up
distant thunder
the home run hitter
drops a bunt
“red hots!”
for an instant i’m ten
and
father’s still alive
bases loaded
no one out…..
the pitcher
blows a bubble
the roar of the crowd
through a transistor radio…
summer solitude
Ed Markowski
Credits: “a long fly ball” – 9th mainichi haiku contest, 2nd place (June 20005)
“summer loneliness” – from the pinch-book pop up, tribe press, 2004
“spring rain” & “bases loaded” – Haiku Sun (Issue X, Jan. 2004)
“distant thunder” & “lightning…” – games (pawEprint 78, 2004)
Other Credits: The Old Ball Game (April 2006); Baseball Haiku (W.W.Norton, 2007)
winter reverie
the faint scent of bubble gum
on an old baseball card………………………………. by ed markowski
[orig. haiga, MagnaPoetsJF]
sacrifice fly —
markowski’s
on thirdpoem: David Giacalone a/k/a dagosan
photo: MAMA G.