Catcher. The catcher of my heart. Let go. Please let go. I feel as if I’m being smothered by that downy pillow you hate so much. The one you always threw off the bed. That’s me now… thrown aside. Out of your life.
I’m a catcher, not a releaser. I take a hold and keep a hold. I’m not one to be left, not one to be alone. But I’ve never been the caught before, just the released. But now, you’ve caught me. And I’m lost in the wondrous feel of your net.
Mary Willingham
I squat at home. Not a house, but a plate. The beginning and ending of a path to score, to glory, to bragging rights. I sweat as the hot sun beats down on my back. It’s rays absorbed into the black of my gear.
It was opening day and the catcher was ready for the first pitch. There’s nothing like baseball in the springtime!
Valerie
How does this work>
Me
the catcher of the baseball team is also and amazing batter! he won the game today against the rivals. very happy night, the rivals are so cocky and deserved to lose :) a llll thanks to the amazing catcher on the team!
michipuffis
catcher catch my beam of light lift me high up higher than the dark night. catch the sweet wind, sweet and light.
Carolyn Jimenez
Dream catcher
filter my dreams
and pour into my sleep
a steady stream of sweet sleep clouds
that lift me high enough
for my longing fingers to brush
the edge of the gold lining of the heavens
the baseball diamond surrounded them like a cage, a prism where light would be shoved through, a rainbow of experiences. The catcher clad in is armor, guarding from splitting light.
Timothy
the catcher and rye
michaela
He could never catch her. No matter how fast he ran, she ran faster. Fleeting glimpses of her black hair flying in the wind. A whiff here or there of her perfume. And the occasional smirk cast back his way over her shoulder.
He wondered sometimes, was she running from him, or did she just enjoy the chase? And why did she always do it barefooted?
Catch catch catch. Catch the ball, throw the ball. Catch throw catch throw.
Mindless, don’t even need to think about it anymore.
Catch throw catch throw
Catch throw catch
Catch throw
Catch
Catc
Cat
Ca
C
I stood on the ground
where they dug you up,
and laid you back down again.
I stood on the ground,
wanting to take back
the earth
just to see your face.
I don’t know what to say.
The world works
in no kind of way.
Your body stays
a few feet below us,
not far from us.
Even if your ashes
floated in the sky,
settled on a tree branch,
you would still hear
every step I took,
every breath
I took.
You would be there
for it all.
I thank you.
I’m sorry
for what I took.
You are always here.
I wanted to be a Catcher in the Rye as well. But I don’t truly know what that even means, and I don’t think Holden does either. And I think that’s the point.
Mariella
I don’t know why, but I thought of Catcher in the Rye when I first saw this. Haven’t read the book. don’t know who even wrote it, or what it’s about. But it’s what I thought of. I also thought of a baseball mitt, although that’s a little bit more expected when one first glances at this word I guess… I wouldn’t really know.
“i’d like to catch you like i’d catch a falling star” he mused.
she huffed. “i’m not a maiden in distress or the damsel in disguise. i’m a tomboy, and you better get that straight before i become violent.”
“i’m sure you’re very violent.” he laughed.
she glared. “excuse me?”
“what i meant was-” he raised a thin eyebrow. “you could’ve fooled me.”
“i can show you how violent i can be.” she crossed her arms.
he backed away slightly, his expression amused. “no thanks. but i still think you’re too much of a girly-girl.”
“nah,” she shrugged, her green eyes sparkling. “you’re the feminine one. you’ve always been the sissy.”
he looked wounded. “as if.”
“no,” she sighed finally. “i think i’ll settle for being the catcher, and you can be the one that’s falling.”
“but you’re too late.” he said softly, his dark blue eyes on her.
“why?”
“because,” he grinned. “i’ve already fallen.”
My first love was on the baseball team. I would go just to watch him and his fantastic ass in those tight pants. We talked all the time, and made out under the bleachers. He turned out to be gay, and fucking the catcher too. Just my luck.
catcher of playthings. return my deflated red ball. my kite ripped down the middle by late-july winds. did you ever find that rowboat, the one i used to float in the tub while pops told stories about fantastical people? catcher of playthings. and the headless doll (twice removed). my dusty xylophone and its blue case. how about the musical carousel horse that died, when the batteries ran out?
I fell and my catcher caught me. My writers block is crippling right now…… uhhhhhhhh
Meh.
She looked at me over her shoulder, and then she ran. It wasn’t much of a head start — ten feet or so — but it was enough for my feet to tangle around each other and slow me down while I sprawled headlong onto the grass.
when it’s cool in the summer my family goes to the AAA league in town. We get seats right by the catcher because we have friends in the box office. I always get garlic fries and pepsi and wear a sun hat. We cheer for both teams and get sun burned. Afterwards we go get ice cream and watch the airplanes land.
Nicole
The catcher, what a catch, good you caught it. I haven’t the faintest idea of what I’m talking about, but I am so glad to be writing something again. These grown up need to realize what a crap ton of homework they give me. I hope you catch my drift
I used to try out for the baseball teams because my father wanted me to. It was never successful, and in the end, I disappointed myself more for ever trying to please him, than I ever disappointed him.
Tina
its hard to catch up with yourself. you have these grandiose ideas, these plans that you try and set into motion. mentally youre so far away from where you are physically. youre in your shitty apartment, theres nothing to do. your dreams are gone and you need to catch up with them, or you will surely fade away.
I used to love holden caufield? …is that his name?…
I WANNA BE THE CATCHER IN THE RYE!!!!!!!
brittany
oddly enough, i’ve never even thought of reading catcher in the rye. i think nothing of adventure tales and classic stories.
Maggie
CATCHER FEATURES IN LIKE EVERY STORY I WROTE FROM THE TIME I READ CATCHER IN THE RYE ON. LIKE NOT EVEN ON PURPOSE. I WROTE A STORY ABOUT A PAIR OF SIDEKICKS AND ONE CAUGHT THE OTHER WHEN SHE FELL FROM THE ROOFTOP OF A BUILDING AND IT WAS CALLED CATCHER. And then I wrote another thing but I don’t remember OH WAIT WAIT WAIT I WROTE THE THING ABOUT THE CATCHERS WHO CATCH PEOPLE WHO BREAK THE LAW AND THEN THEY’RE TAKEN TO THESE DUNGEONS AND TORTURED AND YEAH this wasn’t coherent I am not actually proud of this knowing my history with the word I should have had something better for catcher.
If you throw something someone must catch it, even if that catcher is Mother Earth herself. Mother Earth gives us much, all punches originate from mother earth and she catches us when we fall. So always remember to be careful when throwing things for someone is going to catch it and catch you.
John Portier
I looked across the room staring at all the girls. I was incredibly bored. It wasn’t until I saw a girl giggling with her friends that I froze. I realized she was quite the catcher. I didn’t have much time I realized as I saw some other dude heading in he direction.
Renalyn Black
i was playing softball with an old gf and some friends, when a pitched ball bounced off the bat and hit my gfs vagina. ever since then, i called her lady parts “the ol catchers mitt”
Jesse Daniel
Not the receiver. You catch it. A catcher. What do you do with it? Pass it on or keep it? Well, that depends on what you caught! If you caught a smile, pass it along. If you caught a frown – toss it away. If you caught some sunshine, that’s Vitamin D.
Gloria Huerta
The catcher… i got nothing.
Do they catch stuff when people throw things?
He stands under the sky, catching. They fall, like crystal catching the sun, refracting and reflecting, into his hands, where he amasses them, as many as he can. He’s only got 60 seconds, to catch these things, and heap them on a paper, where they’ll be evaluated for relevancy to the word “catcher”.
ellimistd
And the plants are tall and free and sway in the time of the wind, but wait … not exactly. It is just before or just after, never the same and with each wave of a frond, leaf, twig, they defy, are being defied, will defy, and all other matters of semantics.
I need to reread catcher in the rye, because i fucking couldn’t stand it as a teenager. and then like this guy i used to know was like, way into holden caufield. and he totally had one of those hats he wears and everything, and he tried to describe himself using the hat and just..what?
“Catcher In the Rye” was my favorite book in High School. I re-read it several times. I don’t know the significance of doing that but I did love that book.
david
the person in front of the umpire of a baseball game.
I will catch you when you fall, and I will help you back up.
how terribly, beautifully ironic. he is a catcher. but in more than just one way. yes, he braves the dusty fields for at lease two hours a day, crouching on the dirty mound. and yet. he is also a catcher of dreams. because i can see it in his vivid green eyes. and when they glimpse at me, they catch my heart.
Hope
I wish I had realized I wanted to be a catcher earlier. If I had I would’ve always worn my glove, and I mean always, I would look like I had a club hand. A birth defect, one that would shine on the field, catch the sun light and throw it into my admires eyes who would follow me to every game, from city to city, under the same sky.
Catcher. The catcher of my heart. Let go. Please let go. I feel as if I’m being smothered by that downy pillow you hate so much. The one you always threw off the bed. That’s me now… thrown aside. Out of your life.
don’t laugh, says who? i’m not gonna do it.
well if you don’t, who is?
shit, somebody just do it, we’re all gonna fall.
not it.
I’m a catcher, not a releaser. I take a hold and keep a hold. I’m not one to be left, not one to be alone. But I’ve never been the caught before, just the released. But now, you’ve caught me. And I’m lost in the wondrous feel of your net.
I squat at home. Not a house, but a plate. The beginning and ending of a path to score, to glory, to bragging rights. I sweat as the hot sun beats down on my back. It’s rays absorbed into the black of my gear.
It was opening day and the catcher was ready for the first pitch. There’s nothing like baseball in the springtime!
How does this work>
the catcher of the baseball team is also and amazing batter! he won the game today against the rivals. very happy night, the rivals are so cocky and deserved to lose :) a llll thanks to the amazing catcher on the team!
catcher catch my beam of light lift me high up higher than the dark night. catch the sweet wind, sweet and light.
Dream catcher
filter my dreams
and pour into my sleep
a steady stream of sweet sleep clouds
that lift me high enough
for my longing fingers to brush
the edge of the gold lining of the heavens
the baseball diamond surrounded them like a cage, a prism where light would be shoved through, a rainbow of experiences. The catcher clad in is armor, guarding from splitting light.
the catcher and rye
He could never catch her. No matter how fast he ran, she ran faster. Fleeting glimpses of her black hair flying in the wind. A whiff here or there of her perfume. And the occasional smirk cast back his way over her shoulder.
He wondered sometimes, was she running from him, or did she just enjoy the chase? And why did she always do it barefooted?
Catch catch catch. Catch the ball, throw the ball. Catch throw catch throw.
Mindless, don’t even need to think about it anymore.
Catch throw catch throw
Catch throw catch
Catch throw
Catch
Catc
Cat
Ca
C
I stood on the ground
where they dug you up,
and laid you back down again.
I stood on the ground,
wanting to take back
the earth
just to see your face.
I don’t know what to say.
The world works
in no kind of way.
Your body stays
a few feet below us,
not far from us.
Even if your ashes
floated in the sky,
settled on a tree branch,
you would still hear
every step I took,
every breath
I took.
You would be there
for it all.
I thank you.
I’m sorry
for what I took.
You are always here.
I wanted to be a Catcher in the Rye as well. But I don’t truly know what that even means, and I don’t think Holden does either. And I think that’s the point.
I don’t know why, but I thought of Catcher in the Rye when I first saw this. Haven’t read the book. don’t know who even wrote it, or what it’s about. But it’s what I thought of. I also thought of a baseball mitt, although that’s a little bit more expected when one first glances at this word I guess… I wouldn’t really know.
“i’d like to catch you like i’d catch a falling star” he mused.
she huffed. “i’m not a maiden in distress or the damsel in disguise. i’m a tomboy, and you better get that straight before i become violent.”
“i’m sure you’re very violent.” he laughed.
she glared. “excuse me?”
“what i meant was-” he raised a thin eyebrow. “you could’ve fooled me.”
“i can show you how violent i can be.” she crossed her arms.
he backed away slightly, his expression amused. “no thanks. but i still think you’re too much of a girly-girl.”
“nah,” she shrugged, her green eyes sparkling. “you’re the feminine one. you’ve always been the sissy.”
he looked wounded. “as if.”
“no,” she sighed finally. “i think i’ll settle for being the catcher, and you can be the one that’s falling.”
“but you’re too late.” he said softly, his dark blue eyes on her.
“why?”
“because,” he grinned. “i’ve already fallen.”
My first love was on the baseball team. I would go just to watch him and his fantastic ass in those tight pants. We talked all the time, and made out under the bleachers. He turned out to be gay, and fucking the catcher too. Just my luck.
catcher of playthings. return my deflated red ball. my kite ripped down the middle by late-july winds. did you ever find that rowboat, the one i used to float in the tub while pops told stories about fantastical people? catcher of playthings. and the headless doll (twice removed). my dusty xylophone and its blue case. how about the musical carousel horse that died, when the batteries ran out?
I fell and my catcher caught me. My writers block is crippling right now…… uhhhhhhhh
She looked at me over her shoulder, and then she ran. It wasn’t much of a head start — ten feet or so — but it was enough for my feet to tangle around each other and slow me down while I sprawled headlong onto the grass.
when it’s cool in the summer my family goes to the AAA league in town. We get seats right by the catcher because we have friends in the box office. I always get garlic fries and pepsi and wear a sun hat. We cheer for both teams and get sun burned. Afterwards we go get ice cream and watch the airplanes land.
The catcher, what a catch, good you caught it. I haven’t the faintest idea of what I’m talking about, but I am so glad to be writing something again. These grown up need to realize what a crap ton of homework they give me. I hope you catch my drift
I used to try out for the baseball teams because my father wanted me to. It was never successful, and in the end, I disappointed myself more for ever trying to please him, than I ever disappointed him.
its hard to catch up with yourself. you have these grandiose ideas, these plans that you try and set into motion. mentally youre so far away from where you are physically. youre in your shitty apartment, theres nothing to do. your dreams are gone and you need to catch up with them, or you will surely fade away.
catch her.
catcher!
catcher in the rye!
I used to love holden caufield? …is that his name?…
I WANNA BE THE CATCHER IN THE RYE!!!!!!!
oddly enough, i’ve never even thought of reading catcher in the rye. i think nothing of adventure tales and classic stories.
CATCHER FEATURES IN LIKE EVERY STORY I WROTE FROM THE TIME I READ CATCHER IN THE RYE ON. LIKE NOT EVEN ON PURPOSE. I WROTE A STORY ABOUT A PAIR OF SIDEKICKS AND ONE CAUGHT THE OTHER WHEN SHE FELL FROM THE ROOFTOP OF A BUILDING AND IT WAS CALLED CATCHER. And then I wrote another thing but I don’t remember OH WAIT WAIT WAIT I WROTE THE THING ABOUT THE CATCHERS WHO CATCH PEOPLE WHO BREAK THE LAW AND THEN THEY’RE TAKEN TO THESE DUNGEONS AND TORTURED AND YEAH this wasn’t coherent I am not actually proud of this knowing my history with the word I should have had something better for catcher.
If you throw something someone must catch it, even if that catcher is Mother Earth herself. Mother Earth gives us much, all punches originate from mother earth and she catches us when we fall. So always remember to be careful when throwing things for someone is going to catch it and catch you.
I looked across the room staring at all the girls. I was incredibly bored. It wasn’t until I saw a girl giggling with her friends that I froze. I realized she was quite the catcher. I didn’t have much time I realized as I saw some other dude heading in he direction.
i was playing softball with an old gf and some friends, when a pitched ball bounced off the bat and hit my gfs vagina. ever since then, i called her lady parts “the ol catchers mitt”
Not the receiver. You catch it. A catcher. What do you do with it? Pass it on or keep it? Well, that depends on what you caught! If you caught a smile, pass it along. If you caught a frown – toss it away. If you caught some sunshine, that’s Vitamin D.
The catcher… i got nothing.
Do they catch stuff when people throw things?
He stands under the sky, catching. They fall, like crystal catching the sun, refracting and reflecting, into his hands, where he amasses them, as many as he can. He’s only got 60 seconds, to catch these things, and heap them on a paper, where they’ll be evaluated for relevancy to the word “catcher”.
And the plants are tall and free and sway in the time of the wind, but wait … not exactly. It is just before or just after, never the same and with each wave of a frond, leaf, twig, they defy, are being defied, will defy, and all other matters of semantics.
I need to reread catcher in the rye, because i fucking couldn’t stand it as a teenager. and then like this guy i used to know was like, way into holden caufield. and he totally had one of those hats he wears and everything, and he tried to describe himself using the hat and just..what?
“Catcher In the Rye” was my favorite book in High School. I re-read it several times. I don’t know the significance of doing that but I did love that book.
the person in front of the umpire of a baseball game.
I will catch you when you fall, and I will help you back up.
how terribly, beautifully ironic. he is a catcher. but in more than just one way. yes, he braves the dusty fields for at lease two hours a day, crouching on the dirty mound. and yet. he is also a catcher of dreams. because i can see it in his vivid green eyes. and when they glimpse at me, they catch my heart.
I wish I had realized I wanted to be a catcher earlier. If I had I would’ve always worn my glove, and I mean always, I would look like I had a club hand. A birth defect, one that would shine on the field, catch the sun light and throw it into my admires eyes who would follow me to every game, from city to city, under the same sky.