Best Olympian Poems
Dance of neurons is perceptible not on paper with ink only
All gazed at the sprinting poetry with its look at new sunrise
In Rio Olympics in hundred meters in just 9.81 seconds
When Usain Bolt muscled out the poem of sprinting with elan
Securing gold and the epithet of the fastest man on sweet earth
Adding a new crest to the ever heightening Olympic mania In Rio
Aesthetics of gleaming muscles height and stride flying on track
So did the Indian girl who lost the medal but won millions of hearts
As she performed Produnova vault with a mind blowing bird’s rhythm
Mesmerizing the spectators with her limbic poetry of gymnastics
Limbs of Deepa Karmakar resembling wings of birds in splendid flight
As she incredibly and charmingly came down from the dream vacuum
Through the ‘vault of death’, with a front handspring, off the vault table
Then daringly done two and a half somersaults in the air risking even death
Birds of maniac ecstasy flying high in the Olympian colours
My garden, darling, brims in beauty of your lyrical laughter
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19 August, 2016: For Olympic Mania – Poetry Contest: Sponsored by Janis Thompson
The goal of Gold, Silver, Bronze medals to win.
The support and sacrifice of family and
friends and strangers too.
The show of strength when you win,
and defeated look when you lose.
The tears of joy and the show of sadness in
knowing you are the best you can be in
your expertise of the sport.
The sleepless nights, the endless practices
from childhood to advancing adult. Letting
everyone know in the world you are the Best.
You are an Olympian.
This is what it means.
Limerick : Once an intrepid Olympian
Once an intrepid Olympian
Craved for anthem gold on the podium
Games after games came fourth
So sawed his arm in wrath:
Won at Paralympics gold and odium!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
(Dedication: Congratulations to
Joseph Schooling, Singapore's first
Gold Medallist, Rio Olympics 2016)
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Joy in meek voice as triumph speaks loud,
Opt a fine win in swift sure speed;
Set winning poise humble not proud,
Etch hard work seen with gold disc deed;
Prime purpose moves with passion pure,
Heart and mind show how focus gains.
Sense effort groove with gut feel sure,
Calm and clear flow in action plain;
Heed the deep feel as time reveals,
Oblige the truth as success sums;
Olympic will as goal meets thrill,
Live ample proof in great outcome;
In this grand glow of winning page,
Niche medal show of gold onstage,
Glimpse profound flow that comes of age.
Leon Enriquez
13 August 2016
Singapore
save those tears for the solitude of night
alone in your cold little widow’s bed
when gates open to memories flowing
still shellshocked by the emptiness
of his love suddenly gone
taking comfort in knowing
how it went down all so perfect
in every detail of every moment
how he slipped into the next life
like he was taking off a coat
with dignity and grace
because it didn’t fit anymore
stoic and brave
ready
after all
he was the olympian
ambassador in the first canadian team
tel aviv world paralympics
it was the summer of 1968
today they draped his body
with the national flag
as they carried him away
we stood in awe
saluting our last memory
out the door into forever
and now here lies the olympian
among mere mortals
at the foot of mount olympus
the man
the legend
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Posted on December 14, 2020
“The diva is high,” says the news,
“huge splash in the pool and a bruise.”
She scores off the scale.
She’s thin as a whale.
Crowd wades in her blubbering blues.
2/12/2022
XV.X.MMVll - Words to the Olympian
I've rode horses all my life.
The metaphor being,
my life's always been an uncomfortable unsmooth ride.
I'd watched my mom her entire life,
the Olympian,
that beared the torch,
like her sickness didn't slow her down at all.
She had smiled,
when the doctor told her she'd never make it.
I thought to myself for our sake perhaps but now I know it's because she'd gotten us that far,
the Olympian.
My hero,
never wore a cape,
instead she'd put on a smile like it was a mask,
hide her pain,
so that we'd enjoy the horse ride home.
I remember how she lay there unmasked.
Her lifeless form the final unveiling to a chapter I didn't expect.
That no one expects.
Her lifeless form a cold I'd felt each day after.
I'd close my eyes,
because I thought it was a better sight than the colours,
I thought then seemed dull.
I lived in grey.
I'd wash my face in tears,
the salt a make up I'd have each day,
reminds me of the oceans that did not keep me afloat.
I'd let the dark in my veins see my broken light too,
through freshly cut slits in my wrists.
Remember the numb in my throat,
the guilt a gripping bear claw tearing the skin off my back because I never told her how I felt.
Did she really know me I wonder,
my personalities always been a thick mist that surrounds my face.
She'd said when things get messed,
dust yourself off and stand up,
I wondered then why she didn't listen to herself,
despite.
I feel her smile.
I know she'd never give up like this.
I bet she's up there,
the Olympian,
still bearing the torch.
13/10/18
Having, with hope and faith, overcome
past moonless night-like trials and tribulations,
I meet today's sunshine-ones with Gilead's balm;
Be aware that each living day and night has its race,
and there is no need to jump the gun in disqualification;
for it's not about coming in first place, but finishing the race:-
Indeed, it's all about an old Japanese proverb's awareness:
"don't worry about being slow; worry about standing still";
for each challenge is about crossing over the finish line:-
We will always have trials and tribulations; even when liberated;
thus let us ever take heart in overcoming and fearing nothing,
seeking strengthening by the ever present hand of God's love:-
In the race of life, it's not so much about the dreamer, but the dream;
for along the trial and tribulation track, the dreamer may suffer and fall,
but the divine will have the dream's baton pass on towards the finish line:-
As Blk Bok and Langston long ago immortally pended,
the hustle and bustle of today, is as real as it has ever been;
life remains to crystal stairway, but an ever winding staircase:-
And in every winding staircase, around each and every turn,
we encounter new unexpected challenges starring us in the face;
thus, with Jacob-like hope and faith, we must track life's staircase:-
Listen, when the treacherous mountainous staircase of life challenges you,
poke toes of hope, heels of strength, and with tongue of faith, yell loudly
"get the hell out of my way, I'm on a God's finish-line-track; coming in first!"
Olympic moments now here, then gone
under a spotlight intense as the sun
Years of sweat, dedication and training
geared toward a finish culminating
In a medal or two, or three if you’re great
~ all dependent on timing, focus and fate