Best Doping Poems
Tag words: advertising, bebop, bird, bottle, Charlie
Parker, Coca-Cola, Cole Porter, Dizzy Gillespie,
door, flag, heart, jazz, light bulb, Louis Armstrong,
Miles Davis, palette, Pepsi Cola, pluralism – found
object, retablo painting, sculpture
Arbitrary or subconscious, Saunders picked six.
Man created on the sixth day from darkness;
we came into the light, of knowing, of naming.
Satan, sin held within, black of skin. Oh,
Africa chopped up bleeding, the third world’s
doors shown black, nailed shut. With the skin
of drums, the heel of hand, he pounds the nails
on the trail of the carpenter.
Kept in place, biblical wives of Lot turned to salt,
white-line the globe. White powder, white power,
sugars the unpalpable, addicting, coca leafs and
caffeine, doping the public, the poor for dimes.
Reinforcing the lure of the bottle; the cola bottle
that fell unbroken to earth from the sky in The
God’s Must Be Crazy. Some have always used their
addictions to create. Like a found objects, we too
fall calling to Mother Mary.
After: The Gift of Presence Raymond Saunders 1993
First Published by Ekphrastic Art:writing and art on art and writing
*Lot the nephew of Abraham, husband of Edith
who was turned to salt.
A bulging extremity,
a feminist integrity,
a swaggering centipede,
the cops arresting me,
my dick the right size,
the bang coming out of your eye's,
the sensitivity upon demise,
the dew and dripping from the sky's,
the eagerness of eloping,
the magnitude of doping,
the honesty of groping,
scattering scorpions glowing and scoping.
If Lance Armstrong isn’t King of Cheaters
He’s most certainly on the royal court
No soul to sell, that former world-beater
Poster boy for putting self before sport
The town’s old sheriff, asleep at the wheel
Cheaters get a tiny slap on the hand
Much more than laurels the swindlers do steal:
People’s respect for all sports in the land
Now think of a world record that’s been set
Or a gold medal won, do you figure--
When was the last time you were confident
Physiology hadn’t been jiggered?
I say throw cheaters out for evermore
For how else will people ever believe
That sport’s integrity has been restored
And the whole world is not being deceived?
The human potential, heart, and effort
The only measure, else there is no sport.
3/26/16
People would do almost anything to make it to the top, even using steroids. This type of drug has been used by all would-be professional athletes and actual professional athletes since the 1980s, even behind the backs of their beloved fans. Professional athletes (Lance Armstrong, Barry Bonds, and the late Chris Benoit, e.g.) have been using a lot of steroids before they wrestled, played baseball, rode bikes, or whatever. Everybody knows that using too much steroids have real consequences, even the the courts are involved. Steroids will make one angry, the kidneys start to shrink, one person becomes aggressive, and so on. Using steroids will also cost one individual's life, a chance to play for one of their favorite teams (Dallas Cowboys, e.g.), family, fame, everything. Another term for a use of steroids by professional athletes is "doping." Sooner or later, their fans will find out about their steroid use. And when they do, the young ones who've looked up to their favorite athletes and trusted them with their lives will have been seriously betrayed. Using steroids is considered cheating, especially when Barry Bonds and Lance Armstrong have been using them behind the backs of their loved ones and their fans. Now I know why I never played sports and/or used any of those illegal drugs, let alone steroids. It seems that these athletes can't even earn their way to the top, that includes not using steroids. The only reason why these professional athletes have been using steroids is because their coaches and physicians told them to, and they really should've got caught making their star athletes use that illegal drug. Even Vincent K. McMahon, who was the chairman of World Wrestling Entertainment (formerly the world Wrestling Federation) had forced Hulk Hogan and other wrestlers to use steroids. All types of steroid use are starting to make everyone very, very sick. Did everyone know that if all professional athletes are caught with a lot of steroids and needles that they were going to get arrested. Steroids are to be banned from all of the sporting segments forever. And if all athletes continue to use steroids to cheat their way to the top, thereby getting more money and endorsement deals like that of McDonald's, Progressive, Geico, and other name-brand sponsors and whatnot, they've got another thing coming.
The world is filled with cheaters;
It almost seems the norm.
We hear of more examples found
In every shape and form:
A Scrabble competition where
A young man used his wiles
To sneak into the playing bag
Some extra blank-faced tiles.
Lance Armstrong, of the Tour de France,
Once honored and revered,
Now stripped of all his medals
With his reputation smeared.
Cabrera of the Giants, too,
Was doping and got caught.
It seems that sports, like politics,
With cheaters has been fraught.
We’re taught to do the honest thing
When we are in our youth;
But as we age, so many learn
That they can bend the truth.
When knocked down from a pedestal,
The former proud elite
May finally learn the price they’ll pay
For choosing ways to cheat.
boxer
quick youth
roping doping dropping
the one armed ghost
champion
Doping confessing by Lance Armstrong
Why tell the truth, when a lie can set you free
The sympathy card, the court jester: with slumbering tears
The windows wipers wipe the milky tears from his eyes.
He compete, and achieves victory through deceit
Does a hero cheat, his way to victory?
A hero was never label a bully throughout history
Spiderman, superman , Robin Hood
heroes never confessed their sins
The incredible hulk did a powerful transformation
Restoring international credibility in prime time;
Time after time
A myth is a myth even in the past, present and future.
Lance expects forgiveness now
For coughing up the truth,
Even though the clues were there
For any paltry sleuth.
Confessing all on Oprah’s show,
He hopes to get on track,
Believing that the sport would gladly
Want to have him back.
After years and years of lying,
While his fans continued hoping,
It’s a bit anti-climactic
To admit that he was doping.
A hero who has fallen
Often stays down in the dust,
For it’s hard to get your base back
After you’ve betrayed their trust.
You seem smart, you look special,
You are unique, you are beautiful!
For the first time I am impressed,
For the first time I got influenced.
I could conceal my affection
When you left for a new destination,
But not the void you occupied.
Oh boy! I wish you realized!
I enjoyed each moment together;
Sharing problems, aiding one another,
Staring at your smiles rich in vivacity.
A clear sign was all I fancy.
I am writing this rhyme,
With a tear doping on each line,
For the first time, I cried,
For the first time, I'm relieved.
From the radiance of the thought
Through the deep veins of the heart,
I grant you my honest composition
As an enduring story of my affection.
the Adult Children of Alcoholics
educated me a lot on my life
I have seen plenty of alcoholics
growing up with it stabs you like a knife
I once read in a book what certain traits
children of alcoholics developed
being an adjuster in life relates
seems like my life was underdeveloped
I would just go with the flow with no word
looking back on my life I know it’s true
I was never the one to wear a sword
all this because dad drank way too much brew
Dad is dead family is still coping
we have all done our own way of doping
(Note: This poem was written shortly after the 2022 Olympics and after Richard Branson and Jeff Bezos rode their rockets in a new space race for billionaires.)
Races
By Mark D. Stucky
Our country had a Space race
to beat Russians to the moon.
Decades ago, we left lunar footprints
and brought back rocks and selfies.
Rival billionaires build rockets now
for suborbital joyrides above.
We periodically join Olympic races
to go fractionally faster than others
for prestige and multi-metal medals.
Hosting countries spend billions
to applaud athletic bodies.
But for all that cash and hype,
we get no cure-for-cancer hope,
but viral spread and doping.
Our world needs better races
toward things that truly matter.
We require a Race race
to travel much faster
toward equity and healing
than ever gone before.
While we wish for a quick sprint,
a marathon is what we’re running.
Ending slavery long ago,
this race’s qualifying heat,
was just one stride
beyond the starting line.
Jim Crow still taints the track.
Systems still are prejudicial.
Supremacists still conspire.
Voting rights still are suppressed.
Vigilantes still chase and shoot.
Police still harm the unarmed.
This crucial marathon
has many miles to go,
but if we struggle to the end,
contenders might all be winners.
(Originally published in Small Town Anthology VIII: Entries from the Eighth Annual Tournament of Writers, Vicksburg Cultural Arts Center, 2022. See also my poems "Closed Community Prejudice (an Alphabetized Memoir)," "Weapons of Wonder," and "Hate Vacuuming?")
(Image by Braden Collum on Unsplash.com.)
Standing here feeling the constancy of the trade winds blowing my hair around
I marvel at the bright whiteness of the birds flying in their madly screaming love of
life
Again I try to focus on one. It’s a futile task for even my young eyes
How they can go through these intricate maneuvers without colliding is amazing
The tarmac is white with their waste and once more I thank them for their
consideration
Soon I too will be aloft flying in the false darkness of a super Constellation radar
patrol plane
Watching Russian “trawlers” and the “whales” that sometimes accompany them
We’ve used them as navigational aids on the way back from the Aluetians to this
white sand dot called Midway
Their constant patrolling has helped many a time when the day clouds in and
Nav can’t get a sunline. The same two eyes that can’t keep up with
a gull have found us the way home.
Scope doping, manning a line of defense, flying thru all weather conditions,
a wall of planes, ten eyes each ,doing sentry duty in relative comfort
Days of boredom seconds of terror It improves my poolgame plays hell with my
poker skills (folding sucks) and makes 3 2 beer taste okay while we play soft ball
awaiting the next flight Three more then it’s back to Honolulu
What will it be like remembering these perfect beaches and awesome sunsets
when I’m old and forty Will this Elvis rock still be around?
I wonder if England has any country singers
Nah! Who’d under stand them?
i am lonely..
forsaken neglected and unloved...
unspoken unseen and left out..
the whispers of depression..
the sights of stress..
believe me... listen to me..
i am dying slowly...
sun rises in the morning..
blighting up the new day..
yet i feel its the darkness..
that i feel everyday around me
lips are stiffen..
smiles are blocked..
eyes are open..
tears are doping..
heart is broken..
life is dripping...
i am shouting..
no one is listening..
i am lonely..
when the whole world is smiling..!
dilupa wijegunasekara
2012/10/28
Back at home lazing like a bum
Like the doctor told me to do
A broken record sings its stilted tune
Never getting onto something new
Wonder what it's going to be like
When I'm back on my feet again
On the cusp of something greater now
And I feel like I could use a friend
Holding onto life
The way it used to be
Make it so I gotta let go
So won't you be a friend of mine?
Now she's heading to another place
So far away I couldn't hope to go
Do I take her with me when I've got
Nowhere to call my own?
On the cusp of something greater now
Something bigger than I've ever known
Life's not turning out the way I planned
And I'm scared I'm gonna be alone
Don't let me let this go
I'm not ready to advance
Baby, cling to me though I cannot see
How we're gonna make it out alive
I'm doping up with TV and games
To escape the grim reality
I wish I could get up and run
Somewhere that's nice and clear to see
I wanna stare out at the setting sun
Sinking down beneath the waves of trees
On the cusp of something greater now
It's a lie that I may believe
It's almost time to go
And never look on back
Won't you take my hand, baby it'd be grand
If you'd always stay a friend of mine
Standing all alone, we watched
The winner of the gold,*
Who’d skated quite amazingly,
Her elegance extolled.
Her teammates sobbed and ranted
And the cameras caught it all
While the winner clutched a teddy bear
And listened to them bawl.
What should have been her moment
By her teammates was denied
And when asked her feelings, she described
“An emptiness inside.”
Disappointment in athletics
Is quite common to report,
But both doping and sore losing
Cast a shadow on the sport.
*In the women’s Olympic figure skating event