In streets where bottle caps fly free and bright,
The broomstick swings to meet the chapa’s call.
Chapita binds the heart in playful fight.
Through Caracas dust, young hands ignite,
Their laughter echoes off each crumbling wall.
In streets where bottle caps fly free and bright,
The pitcher’s toss, a spark in fading light,
Each hit a tale where dreams refuse to fall.
Chapita binds the heart in playful fight.
No field is marked, yet bases take their flight,
From corner stone to crate, they heed the thrall.
In streets where bottle caps fly free and bright,
Two teams, three innings, rules that shift by sight,
The game’s alive where youth and freedom sprawl.
Chapita binds the heart in playful fight.
From dusk till dark, they chase the fleeting sprite,
A cap, a stick, a joy that conquers all.
In streets where bottle caps fly free and bright,
Chapita binds the heart in playful fight.
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Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: May 30th, 2026 08:27
- Comment from author about the poem: Inspired by the sport of chapita, a Venezuelan variation of stickball using recycled materials. For more context visit https://newsus.cgtn.com/news/2020-02-13/An-introduction-to-the-sport-of-chapita-O2xgXYUjfO/index.html
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, sorenbarrett
- In collections: Sports Poetry.
Offline)
Comments3
Nicely done.
Matthew, this is such a joyful celebration of community and imagination. I love how a bottle cap and a broomstick become enough to create an entire world. The poem reminds me that the spirit of a game matters far more than the equipment. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
This poem ecoes a different culture but similar enough to other South American cultures to make it familiar. It calls to me of simple enjoyment and fun in poverty where a game can case immediate worries away. Your mention of bottle caps brought me back to Brazil where as a youth I learned how to spin them like a frisbee off a finger snap. A lovely poem that brought many feelings and a fave
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