They march like a circus of self appointed kings
Waving their gossip around like puppets on strings
They whisper my name like it’s top secret news
Buddy relax…I’m not Bigfoot in shoes
They huddle in corners with insider facts
Somehow their stories come up missing the facts
They talk like detectives with clues they invented
Solving the case of, “Im jealous but vented!”
They post little comments with bravery borrowed
Courage on loan due back by tomorrow
Roasting me in public with chest puffed bravado
Vanishing in person like where’s Waldo?
They act like professors of all about me
Skipping every class past Assumption 103
They major in drama with minors in snark
Graduating daily with honors in bark
Bitter, battered, bruised and spent
Throwing punches aimed to dent,
Bobbing, weaving, sighing loud,
Gladiators playing to the crowd.
Armed with words that cut like steel
Inflicting wounds that won't fast heal,
Nostrils flaring, bulging eyes,
Parrying blows with stifled sighs.
Indignation, slights of old,
Each man's purpose bitter, cold,
One sole aim, that fatal blow,
Boiling anger on full show.
As to us the silent horde
Stunned by this discordant chord,
We watch and wonder how we came
To such a place so sad and lame.
Is this all we now deserve
Screeching buzzards without verve,
Gone the poise, the weathered charm
Just two sluggers out to harm?
He looked with head skewed
With a fire inside he couldn't hide
The spear missed as he threw
Missing his foe dodged to the side
Miss calucation only angered him more
With his rage he yelled aloud
All eyes on him he couldn't ignore
The astonished gasps from the crowd
He was supposed to be the best
Said to be non better by far
Though he missed with his spear
That was meant for the heart
Unsure he now stares at his opponent
Who regained his balance with ease
He will not be bested this day
Feel the sting of blade and bleed
This was the way of the arena
It is bloody and it is gory
They must fight to the death
For fame, honor, and glory
With the blink of an eye
His foe rushed right at him
With a quick step to the right
But it was a delayed reaction
So he tried with fast stride
To quickly dodge to the left
But he didn't see the second blade
That sank deep through his chest
Crowd fell silent the dust settles
Legend said he was unbeatable
But he has bested the champion
He has done the unthinkable
He had won he's now the victor
He stands taller this day
It wasn't for glory or greed
Done for himself not the fame
Written 2-15-19
ah! ’tis blue azure greet’ng the dark maidens
dancers of the ancient drums of my warriors
yea! the ever-ready danc’ng mbari maidens
o, dancers amid the smooth-throat’d hunters –
’tis like an ever-flow’ng rhythmic drumm’ng
of my ageless clan where the rever’d eaglets
made the classic olympia in wing-drumm’ng
amid the love-rov’ng griots, pages and priests!
and your mother – the mother of the amazons
waits, waist-bent, amid the ev’r-wait’ng gray-hairs –
and your hunters naked, ready-pois’d with guns
and panthers snarled under the scorch’ng sun-rays;
o, the gladiators and amazons came along my banks
ah, bring’ng this eternal dance-step to niger’s banks!
Gladiators of the numbered turf
Helmeted heads and padded limbs
22 soldiers on the field
No more, no less, at any time
All have stadiums they call their homes.
Swift of foot and quick of mind
A scoreboard keeps the points and time
Score points by one, two, three or six
By passes, runs, punts or kicks
Winning brings them glory.
Most mother's want their son's to play
When son's are born their father's start to say
Where and when their son will play
Parents eagerly await those cherished fall days
When Football is in season.
Upright goal posts at either end
Each team starts with their own direction
Weekly successes bring winning seasons
Sometimes the coaching can be the reason
The final scores tell the stories.
When January starts to draw near
The Championship games will soon be here
Fans are either elated or dismayed
To see if their teams get to play
and be this year's Gladiators in the Superbowl.
(January 23, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
Two in a matchbox
Grasshopper and scorpion
and the winner is?
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