It has been a couple of weeks
since the rigor of being McGregor
boiled down to nothing,
and Mayweather
had an Irma of punches
ricochet off of him.

I recollect this seemingly regular
pre-big-match rumor,
that the game was arranged.
These verdicters
pronounced a loss for Conor.
If so, Mc. man there
took way too many hits for the money.

Now that McGregor is left for dead,
and verily, Floyd
may or may not have added
a few more Lamborghinis
from the Billion bucks prize !!!
Many fortunes have changed.

I've fallen deep down
into this cemetery
where my thoughts lay dead,
and from the abyss sprout up a paradox
that stands for all fortunes:
We all fish in the same waters;
if one stirs a ripple,
driving the fishes away,
another is gifted a school without much labor.

I let my guard down
you kept yours up
slipping my questions
like Ali bob-n'-weaves through a flurry'
untouchable
Beautiful like a butterfly, but still stings like a bee
shes got a degree in kicking ***
and enough sass to harass me
painfully, playfully.

Shes a sweet pea,
who listens to indie
drinks peppermint greet tea
a spirit so free
its something to merit
you would never believe it

In the cage, shes a killer
shes no wannabe petite bourgeoisie
shell be on a killing spree
crush you like a flea, under her knee
that's a guarantee.

Shes the queen bee
ink to show it
i'm not a poet
'but a potent moment of expression
that's my confession
and so I question;
motionless, face buried in the canvas,
why did I let my guard down.

words flow out of me like the punches of about boxer; each word like a natural series of punches flowing out of a trained boxer.

But of late, I feel more like an old boxer, who has fallen out of step. What once came in a fury takes a force of will to summon out a few words from me. Maybe the well has run dry, but I wouldn't be a poet if I don't keep coming to the Source to once again let the words flow like a fury of creation being unleashed.

Two sluggers emerged
From Louisville;
One fashioned from ash,
One molded from Clay.
One is The Greatest.
Ali.

The epitome of greatness, a mark in history

Of discipline remarkable, a stellar victory

Defeating the unbeaten, knock and break the mould

International heavyweight of Olympic Gold



Strike in quick succession, opponents retreat

Delivery duration, a knockout of defeat

Tactical ability, step into the range

Catalyst created, set for further change



Of the highest calibre, man who beat the man

Delivery on target, a humble champion

Of opponents outclassed, discontinued bout

Dominant performance, within and without



With athletic excellence, distance travelled far

Gym of daily training, cardio and spar

Professional perspective, stood to set the pace

Dedication, boldness, motivate, embrace



Influencing globally, rank of the elite

Rapid combinations, uppercuts repeat

Powerful formation, readiness of stance

Daily preparation, practice over chance



An honourable service, magnificence abound

Celebrating victory, crowding to surround

Continuing the greatness, strength and stamina

The world is truly grateful, Anthony Joshua



Written by Geraldine Taylor ©

A tear rolls down a swollen cheek,
Eyes are blue where violence wreaked,
The sob of tortured life wracks body and mind,
As that blow slows time,
Red blood spots bare skin and canvas,
A world spinning in coloured blackness,
As mind drifts to a place of comfort,
The other raises fists triumphant,
The crowd hollers in jubilance,
Worry not for me just call that ambulance.