Best Heavyweight Poems
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Leaning against the ropes, eyes swollen half closed
Its been a long fight....
Blood dripping from a dislocated jaw
Body beaten and bruised; taking a few more blows
Crowd screaming; colourful figures; cloudy sight?!
Knocked down a few times but, not counted out yet
Not yet; still standing to catch a second wind.... ~
My foe is fierce and relentless, the best in the world
This worlds, undisputed heavyweight champ
At least over most of Humanity; never lost a fight to the faithless!?
Been the prince of his ring for thousands of years....
Almost had them carry me out; flat upon my back, in the early rounds
Until the undefeated “One,” showed up and volunteered to become
“My Corner ^Man.” ~
Been doing somewhat fair since yet, still, a tad bit fuzzy in my head....
Absorbing blows amid a fight like this but, I Am, still standing
And I get my punches in also; sometimes, I even win a round or two?!
My corner Man said; “The Real Champ.” ~
"Just wait for the right time, he'll open up, and when he does
Then, put him on his back; hit him with a left and a quick right
Another left another right and then, use your cut....
....I promise you, I shall gladly count him out, for you ~
Just hang on, we've got him, right, where, we want him!?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....“The Title ^Fight”....
Sometimes, reflections from my mirror,
recall when I slumbered at nature's nadir,
as naysayers whispered in whiskey breaths.
Bewildered, I wandered in the wilderness,
until the mercy of verse reversed the curse.
Poetry you've always been the legacy of my heritage,
a shimmering nimbus, where my words reside by petals,
but if this was my last poem,
it would be the death of an alchemist's magic.
There would be no potion to persecute my pain,
bleeding ink of wounds would have no quill mistress.
Yet, I yearn to leave evidence of my existence,
but my narration is not as lucid as
black pigment upon white pages,
because poetic colours have their own stories.
I'm tired from hiding behind idioms,
where metaphors drip in liquid lies,
veiled within tracing lines of heartbreak.
Whilst sleeping under cherry blossom trees,
I look back upon my life wondering
what purpose summons us,
as I've lost all faith in strange dreams coming true.
I've grown up surrounded by the scent of sorrow,
forsaken in seasonal spheres of fragility,
masticating upon mourning morsels,
adorning garlands of grief soaked in rainfall,
plundering like the tears of Earth,
but even when confusion composed its cruelty,
I fought back to rise, each time I fell.
There has always been pressure
from the heavyweight of darkness,
where I screamed songs of desperation,
as lamenting lyrics resembled emotions of a falling star.
When the breeze blew away the confetti of my stardust,
my heart remained like unblossomed florets -
so I became my own poetic gardener
and planted my own blooms.
Sins of humanity plague me into a withering leaf,
turning invisible, softly settling in sinister silence.
I search for a Godforsaken garden,
where my hands can heal fruitless soil.
Poetry, nobody feels like you,
yet, it's you I sacrifice, before my heart clasps,
as the soul sinks in ideologies of faith and fate.
I can't justify shadows with excuses from expression,
I'm letting go of bitter reflections from photographs.
as it's time to heal the scars from my bloody hands.
Wishing to remain quenched, but drenched in love,
so fate can prepare a grave for my sorrows.
I can't waste time wondering if I'll be remembered,
so, I wave goodbye, floating away like a feather,
executing the articulation of my senses.
"I've got sunshine"
TANKA~ 1
This heavyweight wind
jiggles the chimes limbs hanging
sensitively
a thousand sound waves invade
visible radiation
~~~~~
TANKA~ 2
Dark moonlight tempest
blunders off the mountain top
a massive flooring…
the courageous beam of light
saved souls upon meadow blades
~~~~~
TANKA ~3
A place called daylight
where the beam is always pure
luminescence
if you could only feel this
you’d ask to hold the torchlight
~~~~~
TANKA~ 4
Somewhere were you sleep
the fluorescence substance light
absorbs your beauty
every second that you breath
the light becomes like sunshine
~~~~~
TANKA ~5
Sky of falling stars
belong in my diary
notification
renewing my wedding vows
sunshine begins with me
~~~~~
TANKA~ 6
Missed the snooze button;
pendulum rods tick out loud
morning bird and worm;
sunlit curtains smooth rays
anonymous melody
~~~~~
TANKA ~7
Two rainbows petals
peek outside with loneliness
against no sunlight
rainy weather condition
no color will bring you back
~~~~~
by;PD
10-10-12
for: contest
I am black and I have the ability to glorify the King
I am great and in believing in him, I have authority over all things
I am the Father and Mother of past, present and future
Peacemakers, Educators, Scientists, Musicians, Scholars, Kings and Queens
I am John Love the sharpener inventor
I am Mae C. Jemison the astronaut
I am Martin Luther King the peacemaker
I am Toni Morrison a contemporary novelist.
I am Muhammad Ali the boxer
I am Wilma Rudolph the Olympic track and field champion
I am Tiger woods the golfer
I am Lucy Laney the educator.
I am Jack Johnson the heavyweight
I am Rosa Parks the segregation leader
I am Jesse Wilkins the physicist and mathematician
I am Serena Williams a tennis player.
I am Isaac Murphy the great through-bred jockey
I am Bessie Coleman the first licensed African American pilot
I am Chester Burnett the blues singer
I am Eleanor Holmes a politician and civil rights activist.
I am Thomas Dorsey the father of gospel music
I am Chadwick Boseman the famous Black Panther actor
I am Barack Obama the forty-four first
Black Afro-American president, we are the future.
We are the hope for the lost and forgotten generation.
He's got a big ego,
he keeps offending people,
he scoops the same scoop,
and round and round we loop,
until the bubble pops
and the world sees him flop,
reject the rude,
deflate your ego,
swearing kills the mood,
you able?
I'm getting too cocky,
I could outbox Ali,
wrestle with The Rock
reach the top and stop and mock,
ego full of stock
forget the tick tock
because I'm 24 7
until I get into heaven,
insomnia beckons
and amnesia threatens,
bend rhymes like Beckham,
dunk punks like Jordan,
the mental perfection
with its rhyme injection,
about to live the lesson
of the ego outstretchin'
the limit it can flex,
the crux, the critical,
I rhyme the old skool
and wear hip hop shoes,
I hate the mumble flop
with the words unused,
it's just ear abuse,
on the loose,
with no use,
it's noise with no excuse.
I suspect that this project
will impact and inflict,
sick tricks, and then retract
and evaporate back
to the gods intact,
before it's redirected
to another level head,
who wrecks and blows it,
crash the car,
went too far,
you go from feeling cool,
to a sample of your stool,
that big head
now gone and the face left red,
baking big mistakes,
taking punches from a heavyweight,
David doesn't always beat Goliath,
cometh the hour,
cometh the coffin,
you can't stimulate with coffee
because the heart stopped beating,
the soul is set free
and this world you're leaving,
beaten down with ease,
lying dead and bleeding,
how's that big ego?
You still offending people?
One hand holds but the other can't reach,
near rhymes aren't real rhymes
and sand doesn't mean a beach,
but if you find the flow,
find a way to wined the cable,
then transmit clear and stable,
and accurate like a machete
you'll rhyme like a line of spaghetti,
but with deadwood on your lead
and at ease in your bed head,
because it feels so easy with an ego,
then know it wont make a good show,
so put your feet on the ground
be aware of how the words sound,
leave behind the prima donna
or become another gonna,
stop the passive aggression,
or accept a massive regression,
fill your minds storage with knowledge
beyond the college,
there's always more to learn
and more wood to burn,
big heads remove themselves
when they burn their own shelves.
To nature's norms have I complied -
I laughed, I cried, I lived. I tried.
I'd like to think in aftermath
There's more to my existence path.
I paid the procreation dues,
Dear offspring and their offspring too.
My children opened up my eyes
Far beyond me, myself and I.
The grandkids taught me quite a bit -
There's more to golden age than knit.
No shutters to wondering mind,
Just open it and you will find -
In brighter hue the greener grass
Is on our side in front of us.
Power is not how much but how
To stay aboard the flight of now.
Retired bliss converts the course -
Discretionary time to pause.
Smelling the roses is a must
As flower fanfare fading fast.
Hunger for knowledge, free to sate,
But wisdom's pride is heavyweight.
(No known tip-off to neutralize -
To shed the weights and keep the wise).
The all time norm by which I vow -
Not there nor then but here and now.
To nature's norms have I complied -
Once upon a time lived I!
February 27, 2023
A woman's scream was the only sound, and so I rightfully put on my crown.
Like a dream, P.D. lasted 11 rounds, but has finally been knocked down.....
Sidney you fought a good fight, but the crown has always belonged to me!
You're a poetic parasite, and have no business calling your write's poetry!!
I have a slithering tongue, sending poetic orgasms throughout your mind.
My words will have you sprung, giving you back spasms as I make love to you from behind!
My word-play is sicker than bird flu, having you beg for a shot of antidote.
I'm branded on your heart like a tattoo, pouring poetic anthrax down your throat!
You had your chance at romance, but had a fear for my love's atmosphere.
I gave you love in advance, but thanks a lot, you wanted no Lancelot, So bleep you
Guinevere!
A sick fate, you chose Nate over a poetic heavyweight, so I'll be seeing you later.
Checkmate, your poetry I've come to annihilate, destroying you like a terminator!
So as I raise the title high above my head for all Poetry Soup to see;
A poetic bloodshed it will be, if another poet wants to slam with me!!!
*My fellow poets, i hope you enjoyed this fun write. I love you guys at the soup,
but it's time you guys recognized the slam champ;) "The Poetic Warlock"
CAR COURT
Enter, the older heavyweight steel giant,
The bailiff, a 1954 Hudson, reads unhesitant :
On the docket for this morning : guilty by implication - a Trabant,
In close custody with a Cutlass Supreme for supervision.
Next on the docket: a Pinto for likely gas-tank explosion.
Third on the docket: an English-made car (any marque) - body corrosion.
Lawyer for the prosecution, a pretentious character, a gas guzzler SUV
4x4 off-road with winch - for Saturday use on driveway only -
Hangs out with Vettes; and uses NO2 in fuel. Who?Drugs? Not me!
Downbeat guy as the defence counsel , a solid no nonsense Hummer,
A real enviro-bummer,
Klutzy ugly and personality like a mack truck in summer.
Trabant coughed its way to the stand.
Clerk of court Volkswagen, order in hand,
Read the indictment quietly, efficiently, bland.
Prosecution began with noisy opening musical-horn tunelets
The jury, all serious-minded stolid Volvos and Toyota Starlets
Were not impressed. Hummer clumsily interrupted with an objection, “Let’s
Stop, on the grounds of precedent,” but at this point Pinto reversed,
Crushed its trunk and its gas-tank exploded, and worst ,
Hit the the English car : and into flames they both burst.
Cutlass argued with the SUV, which was winched away pending sentence.
Case against the English car dismissed from lack of evidence.
Trabant was deported back to Germany: no import licence
Overseeing all these proceedings : the ever-reliable, I-won’t-budge,
The I-have-a-spotless-reputation, I-hold-no-grudge,
The mechanical virgin, the silent Rolls Royce as judge.
...........................................................................................................
Written: November 12, 2024, for — Glenn Hughes Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori, inspired by the song “Let America Be America Again”
______________________
Through veils of twilight, we walk
Starlit stars sparkling bright
And beneath, spirits dwindle —
And dreams slip from sight.
Farmers firmly toil the summer soil
Hopes cradled in their hands—
But where’s the pledge in the toil—
When golden glimmers through sands?
In quiet lands, the echoes call
Of history's heavyweight
Poor whites, scrape by on scraps —
While people endure fate.
Natives gaze upon their land
Once rulers of rolling meadows
Now naked of tales, raw and bare —
Their zest for life is still in their ghetto.
Immigrants, with drained hearts
Bring burdens brimming with pain
Their promises packed in perilous chains—
Ceaseless struggles, calamities, and gain.
The workers wake as one word in a song
Brick by brick, they construct a dream—
But in unsung nooks, nebulous shades lurk—
And faith falters, starts to wane its gleam.
Look—hope weaves through patches torn
Each flag a tattered breeze
Men gather close around despair—
While stories cling to trees.
A dark veil cloaks this fractured land
Where families fight and grow
People searching for their kin—
Through seas of strife, they row.
The dog-eared dreams, the scuffed-up souls
Marked by scars and strife
Yet with each breath, a deep resolve—
This is our shared life.
Singing the songs of pioneers
Voices strong and clear
We reclaim the ideals professed—
Longing for what feels near.
In every heart, a spark ignites
Hope rises, raw and bright
For in the struggle, we find our way—
Through shadows into the light.
Written: September 20, 2024
For: Letters or Photographs Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Ink Empress
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A mound of unsent letters was under my pillow
Frozen in time, drifting through my fantasies
My rhymes are scribbled with secret poetry
some have brilliant gleams
others induce quiet cries.
I have a letter written in ink at daybreak
a liquid of warmth embraces every syllable
I saw your name and felt an immense longing!
how it gnaws on my chest as a ravenous beast.
I released my hands and let you sail
away from the solitude and heavyweight!
a spry touch from your forgotten memories
for me, a sweet delight, but oh my inner injury!
Our space is still
a shattered wand to touch my pained heart
with dryer life to perish in the shadows
the sun is setting, making it time to chat
down the soul, sipping from saturation straw.
Distant away, my desert hurts
love that will melt needles
rejecting thread for another morning stitching
with unfamiliar birds, who molt their feathers
the spindled leg has ungainly wings
Satan laughs as he burns the sand.
Prophets of haste lack words
erosion glass steeple returns home
this is the worst season ever known
Your Nimbus Breeze is limitless
burning your deed with the rust of logic
carving now in grey dust.
I can only write words that you will not foresee
gathering lost pebbles for eternity
draw up our sunken riches
these words of mirage, palm arms swaying
my black meeting reminds me
of a dream from yesterday on a forsaken planet.
They say ...
That babies don't smile
You were SO big when you were born - 11lbs 3ozs
And being VBAC, you had been through a lot in the birth canal
So you looked like a prize fighter after a heavyweight bout
Red and purple and bruised-looking, eyes squinted
You made no sounds, though ...
No crying or newborn complaints of any kind
You were as calm and peaceful as if you'd done it a hundred times
Like it was just another "first day of life"
They weighed you, cleaned you up
And then gave you to me to hold for the first time
They say babies don't smile
But you did ... oh, you certainly did
You opened your eyes and looked in mine
And smiled ... a lasting smile
Not a twisted cry or gas or mistaken expression
A true smile ... handsome, sweet, rugged
And I knew then you were special, very special
I knew then that I had witnessed ...
A miracle.
LOVE HARDENED
I would o'erstare the sternest eyes that looks,
Outbrave the heart most daring of crooks,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
Mock lions when they roar for a prey that stare,
In as much as I proclaim all these all through,
I won't bite more than I can chew
And if there's ever an heavyweight greater than this pound,
I'll run as far as God has any ground,
Only in the arms of my eternal flame
Cos my love for her will ever remain the same.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©2019.
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,
"American Montra" Made Dyce"You Can:t be Syrus"
Dantresser submit to his "Dragonhamner" Claw
At 7:05 in Quebec to become the Canadian heavyweight Champion.
Visiting stars from China and Angola were
Presented awards from the international
Busy fund, Handsome Stan Kuerer took exception
To the event, and challenged the Visitors
To a tag match against he, and a partner
Of his choosing,the visters excepted
And the Promter of the region disallowed
The Handsome Stan Kuerer to team with
His fellow stable mate And order
Him to team with Asu Amoriz "the Tention
Senncion". The match ended @12:01
When. Asu pinned the China national champion
Following an off the toprope belly to belly..
The official time of the bout has been disputed due to the edited footage, that started prior to the official beganning referee BigDaddy Fritez didn't enter the ring until 1:56, this means the official time for the bout is 9:01.
Boxing heavyweight king, Muhammad Ali,
was quick and strong, but also used psychology.
He'd let himself get pummeled, giving foes false hope -
like to George Foreman in Manila, his first "rope-a-dope."
*Rope a dope is a technique that Ali perfected when he
beat George Foreman. By just taking a beating to his
stomach as he leaned back into the ropes of the boxing
ring and letting the ropes absorb the force of those
blows, he was able to tire Foreman out and then let
him have it!!!