The Speed Museum
Flashlight, my face is a grey smudged blare
Eyes burn red with a savage hunger’s flare
An ancient thirst for the taste of glorious victory
Hurdling over the speed limits set in a false history
Starved as I approach the speed of light
I’m chasing time lost in the gunshot polaroid
When the world filled my barefoot soles with fear
Now the winds carry me above the stratosphere
I’ve been patient in this subterranean river
Seeking the glow of new talent in spite of the deceiver
Flowing unnoticed slow as a snail in the speed museum
In a photo finish for a split second atop the podium
I’ve stretched a thousand light years into the future
To torch with gold a new generation’s winning measure
To set aside all doubt brought on by black stereotypes
To ignite the passion deep within their phenotypes
Your thunderbolt has forever turned the track Greene
An insane bullet out of the blocks into the silver screen
Frankie, if I could open your heart there would be silver
Enough for the golden performances you would always deliver
Janis Thompson’s Olympic Mania - Poetry Contest
30.08.2016
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