MEDITATIONS OF AN
OFFENSIVE LINEMAN
I am the essence
of patience and method
No reckless trash talk; I never
say a word
I am John Henry, harder,
A hammer on your bones driving
spikes through your soul and
your disintegrating self esteem
We have a chunky young
tailback who dances through
turbulence like light through the
trees in a storm borne by wind
When he runs with me,
you’re never there
Elevating your game is just wasting
your time
I am the tiger in the grass by the river
of your demise
Too late you comprehend the aesthetics
of my violence, the pattern of my stripes,
the curve of my teeth, the savage nuance
of my mayhem
Go ahead, fight me if you must
but my arrival is always fatal
Categories:
tailback, football,
Form: Free verse
The colour red makes you stop
thinking what can be wrong
it makes you hit the brake
as the tailback is so long
Red fills the heart in alarm
makes you think to fear
the conscience sets you off
your moral code gets in gear
A picture filled in red
gets your eye being so bright
holds your full attention
an artists impressionable sight
This colour speaks only a part
involves traffic, emotions and art
for they all effect your heart
Categories:
tailback, color, red,
Form: Rhyme
Rough roads
Occasional vomiting
And crying by weary child
Deadly tailback
Terrain becomes pretty
Rapidly relaxing
Into destination
Paradise
Categories:
tailback, travel,
Form: Acrostic