Best Boxing Day Poems
EIGHT
A deliberate surprise
A shove from the back
while creating artwork
in my second-grade class
Perhaps an ocean scene
A distant angry memory
of my eight-year-old
consciousness
The broken waxy blue crayon
in my right hand
Before me the ripped orange
construction paper and
a scattered image
Girl bully momentarily
reigned behind me
her face encircled with
frantic spirals….
a golden mane
My neck flashed heat
and then a cold sweat
I challenged her to a fight
In the girl’s bathroom
that day
Pale turquoise tiled walls
screamed at me
as I entered the ring
Staring up I saw a field of wilting flowers….
wads of scrunched up soapy paper towels
hurled up at the ceiling where they clung and
appeared as corpses threatening to fall down
on me at any moment
The pungent thick air of girl
bodies surrounded me….
A hungry lion appeared with
open mouth ready to strike
Tightly wrapped around each other
A blur
A blow to my right side
A second to my stomach
Descending to my knees
catching my breath
Rising up I landed an efforted
blow on her left cheek
An explosion within her wild
starving eyes filled with
superpower magnetism
The pounce
The strike
My body collapsed…
the blue tiles hugging me
Sounds of silence
Distant voices of teacher adults
dispersing the crowd
Inside the small stall
crumpled body crying
on the toilet seat
head on my knees
salty tears cascading
Tasting them now
With armor and shield
bleeding …dented and broken
my heart and soul
rejoiced
Awoke with a feeling of deflation
The razzamatazz is over pressie’s given
Then a thought arouses me with a smile
Whilst the men watch the sport on this boxing day
A few cans in reach
We females can hit the sales with parking queues for a mile
Like a rugby match the people snatch and run
So much on offer, it’s all in the fun
You don’t try it you buy it cos it’s less than half price
A bargain is a bargain , wouldn’t usually look twice
You go home laden with things you know you’ll return
Was a bargain yet not quite what you yearn
Wearily you slip off your shoes with a big yawn
Food’s in the kitchen, help yourself, this maid is tooo worn
Been a wonderful day, so different from Christmas
Yet they both need each other to emphasise the past
** A Very Memorable Christmas Present **
Someone made an err::
Boxing Day ‘ere’s
Been the day of — not after.
What started as the greatest
Christmas ever, turned
Us from better to worse
As our tempers grew, altered
After our fingers were slid into
Those gift-wrapped firm gloves of leather,
Punching through the room’s air
At each other
With words roused from harsh to meaner,
‘Till our referee pup barked
To end our Round 1, forcing a turnover
Into creating a round of rich laughter.
Re-freshed, happier, remembering our
Proper manners appropriate to honor
Our Savior’s birthday…We resolved
A return trip to the store to trade
That shared present of boxing gloves for
A healthier, sturdy set of parallel bars.
————————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 12/25/22
Happy Birthday, King Jesus
shorts,white socks
sandals and panama-
winter-white legs
no wind,blue skies
dozing in a deckchair-
my afternoon tea stews
hottest day of summer
flying ants on high-
a swallows' drive by
summer-days ever-lasting
memories so tender-tasting
Cat-and-mouse
Gloves held high
Can't see you
Peek-a-boo
Gloves held high
Block every punch
Can't get through
Peek-a-boo
Drop your guard
One split second
BAM POW SMASH
A knock-out beckons
It's cat-and-mouse
Move those feet
Then my jaw
~ Your fists greet
It takes a lot of time to master such skill
There are lot of downtimes but I climb on my hill
There are days that my body is strained and about to give up
But I go back to self- determination and rise up
The passion to play runs in my veins
I will train myself hard though it rains
My discipline is as scorching as sun
But I still make my sport a sort of fun
This game is worthwhile and is something even more
The confidence it gives can make my dreams soar
Every accomplishment that I made, my modesty becomes better
Each time I face defeat, my dedication becomes stronger
Winning and losing are faces of reality
But it changes my entire entity
So I keep myself motivated and listen to my coach
The God Almighty Himself will hand me His torch
There is something more than a gold medal hanging on my neck
It is something that no one can ever wreck
This whole meaningful experience makes me complete
I am very proud that I grow to be an ATHLETE
Special Days
Written: by Tom Wright
4/13/2006
It seems that for almost everything
We’ve set aside a special day.
We recognize others for their work
And sometimes for their play;
There’s a day set aside for Mothers
And likewise for Fathers too;
I’m sure that in this hodgepodge
There’s one that will cover you.
There’s a day to honor our Veterans,
Our police, firemen and teachers;
A National Fan Day even exists
For those who fill the bleachers.
There is New Years, and Ash Wednesday,
And Saint Valentine’s Day too.
And yes, the hard working Secretary
At last has been given her due.
We honor a few past Presidents,
Palm Sunday and beginning of Lent;
Our calendar has gotten so crowded
But Easter Sunday is time well spent.
We’ve Christmas, and Thanksgiving
And we recognize Flag Day too.
Then there’s Martin Luther King Day
And I suspect for a Boy Named Sue.
Armed forces and Daylight Savings
Each has their very own day.
Labor Day and Columbus too
Are remembered in this special way;
We’ve Election Day, and Bosses Day,
We honor the Devil on Halloween.
And then there’s old St. Patrick’s
For the donning of the green;
There’s Boxing Day and Yom Kipper
And the gobs between I’ve missed.
That I classify as the minor ones
I could name if you should insist.
Birthdays, and Anniversaries,
We treat really special too.
With all these days to remember
Just what is a guy to do?
Even old Phil the Ground Hog
His day has long been real.
It’s enough to cause a country boy
To shout, Hey, what’s the deal?
Christmas day now over,
The turkeys now all dead.
While the bloated celebrators
Sleep their gorging off in bed.
No matter what it cost them.
(Though it cost the turkeys more),
They’d enjoyed the Christmas spirit
They’d invited through their door.
With plastic in their wallets
To finance their spending spree,
They ensured that all they’d purchased
Was on show for all to see.
They let family, friends and colleagues
Know what Christmas really means,
That by spending, spending, spending
You can purchase all your dreams.
Alas for all tomorrows
They may have to scrimp and save,
While the lucky Christmas turkeys
All lie peaceful in their graves!
Ivor G Davies
Don't allow him to corner you, punch him hard on his face, kick him hard and make him cry, just one nice smack and the title is all yours.
These are some of the expressions which I keep on shouting on the top of my voice when I watch brutal combat sports like Muay Thai Kickboxing, Western Boxing (USA), wrestling etc. Unlike other combat sports like Boxing or martial art games such as Karate, Taekwondo ; these sports have much higher degree of violence, witness about 30 – 35 deaths every year and not to mention innumerable fatal injuries. I cannot help but wonder how these fighters feel after winning their respective matches and crushing their opponents to death, or leaving them in a handicapped state making sure they don't have enough guts to face them again.
In the poem below written by me, I have tried to capture the thoughts of a fighter from my own perspective.
. I punch you, you punch me,
I kick you, you kick me,
Driven by a frantic rush to kill each other,
Tell me something - O my opponent,
Do we know each other, you and me?
Couple of minutes since I first saw your face,
Glittering and shimmering, like a rainbow after a rainy day,
Now it is drenched in your own sweat and blood,
And I don’t know why I loathe you so much.
Was it just destiny – your end so near,
Or you were just a fool, for you had no fear,
Broken nose, bruised face – you gave me much pain
In return, I favor you by digging your grave.
Parents, in laws, wife and children – you had many mouths to feed
Fight against me!!!!
You should have thought about them before trying this remarkable feat.
No family, no friends, no money – I have nothing to lose,
Did you ever think about this, you benumbed fool.
. This remarkable piece of poetry, you won’t be able to read,
For you will be busy paying for your deeds,
Fractured arms and shattered spirit - you will suffer many injuries,
Because against me there is nothing but miseries.
. Every second spent against me you will beg for mercy,
You won’t get any, you can trust me on that.
No achievements under your belt, its time you make me proud
I will set an example for others, by gifting you a shroud.
A very famous champion,
an inspiring enthusiastic man was he
Who has now departed , yet is quoted,
for many pearls of wisdom
Vociferous king ,
of the boxing ring
A sports star
And such a sport too.
A motivating peace star who shot up to deserved stardom
The earth be proud of such mortal "clay"
Who swayed and reigned hearts,
as well as the pugilist's kingdom
Notes: about the boxing Great:
These below are the selected facts about Muhammad Ali that I personally found very interesting:
First of all that he had the same birthday as my beloved bro Alihur i.e 17th Jan,
The info below is copied from Wikipedia:
Muhammed Ali Clay
Other names
The Greatest
The People's champion
The Louisville lip
Children9, including Laila Ali2]
Awards
5 time Ring magazine fighter of the year3-time lineal heavyweight championSports Illustrated 'Sportsman of the Century'BBC 'Sports Personality of the Century'CSHL Double Helix Medal Honoree (2006)Presidential Citizens MedalPresidential Medal of Freedom[4]International Boxing Hall of Fame[5]Hollywood Walk of Fame[6]
Cassius Clay was born and raised inLouisville, Kentucky, and began training as anamateur boxer when he was 12 years old. At 18, he won a gold medal in the light heavyweight division at the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome, and converted to Islam shortly afterwards. At 22, he won the WBAand WBC heavyweight titles from Sonny Liston in 1964. Clay then changed his legal name from Cassius Clay, which he called his "slave name", to Muhammad Ali, and gave a message of racial pride for African Americans and resistance to white domination during the 1960s Civil Rights Movement.[12][13]
He was known to for freestyled with rhyme schemes and spoken word poetry, boxing and as political poetry for his activism,
Boxing Day
Christmas over,
Boxing day,
Snow replaced by rain,
Turkey eaten,
Presents opened,
Bones and wrapping remain.
Silent carols,
Muted bells,
The candles all burned out,
Bottle tops,
Nutshells
And gift tags lay round about.
Glittered cards,
Ribbons and bows,
Tinsel, baubles and more,
Unwanted gifts,
Stale perfume,
All strewn across the floor.
The tree bare,
Bulbs blown,
Forgotten cracker jokes,
Empty bottles,
Hangovers
Santa just some bloke.
Party poppers,
Paper hats,
Plastic Jesus in his stable,
Fallen cards,
Holly leaves
Litter the festive table.
Melancholy
Mistletoe,
The anti-climax seems sad,
But in my heart
It will always be
The best Christmas I've had.
Moral Vs Dream
Family cry for Penny
My dream cry for achievemnt
Family cry for rid off from responsibility
My responsibility cry for work
Family believe live like bunch of
Bananas
My bunch of basket is with love
Family thing about fake values
My values fake for my dream
Family never ever give a trusted
words but fill my pain with their show off
My show off is to cry for death
What you think who will win......
With love all
Jagdish bajantri
Twelve rounds of excitement
Two rivals smiling in the middle of enchantment
The bell rang...
Both fighters were wild
Two rough hands still mild
The bell rang again -- end of first round.
Second round...
Gaiting horses, eluding kicks and punches
Baiting bodies, protruding hunches
Third round...
Fighters in merry-go-round
Hide and seek on square ground
Fourth round...
Faces smearing, eyes rolling
Bodies perspiring, allies chanting
Fifth round...
Feet hovering, foot work disintegrated
Temperature rising, hard punches connected
Sixth round...
Audience clapping; boxers hitting
Attacks jabbing, gloves slugging
Seventh round...
Whacking arm follows, gloves batting
Ulnar bone gallows, heads swatting
Eighth round...
The champ fighter grinning, nailing one hard scour
Second fighter fainting, flailing above the litted floor
Ninth round...
Stronger fighter grinning again with right hook
Left hook thrashing, down the second fighter of blind look
Tenth round...
Challenger flogging, kept on rising
Challenger pelting, the champ fell on floor gasping
Eleventh round...
Both warriors pummeling, whipping, jostling
Switching, clubbing, lashing, drubbing
Both fighters fell on adulated white floor
Before the ninth count both warriors stood tall
on wrestled floor
Twelfth round...
Last two minutes of peppering round
Both fighters staggering until the challenger dropped first and gaunts.
Champ still standing, waiting for the ten counts...
Last twenty five seconds of the final round,
First fallen fighter with a bigger heart stands
Champ dropped on his knees --
Laid flat on aproned, famed canvass
Ten counts numbered as confetti lands...
The winner and challenger standing in the corner, beaten and bruised
Bleeding profusely after winning a dream never cruised.
The time has come for me to say goodbye forever
I am not brilliant at expressing my emotions
But in the words of ‘Sealion Dion’ ….
‘I will always love you’
If you check in the filing cabinet
You will find my portfolio of shares
I have kept the Woolworth's certificate it may be valuable
They may resurface one day ….
That’s the wonder of Woolies!
If you ever need a new sofa…. don’t forget these immortal words
The DFS Half Price Sale starts at 10am on Boxing Day!
Contest:- My Parting Gifts
Sponsor:- Viv Wigley
02~06~16