Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Blogger Poetry Contest--American Homage


OK, you can still enter your haiku in the first category of poetry contest, but I thought I'd throw out the second one--an homage to any great American poet (e.g., Dickinson, Poe, Frost, Sandburg, Whitman). The best entry in this category may well win the grand prize, because it's darn hard to take a familiar poet and mimic their style. But here's my example (with apologies to Robert Frost)

Stopping by Water on a Sunny Morning

Whose pond this is, I think I know.
His condo's in the city, though;
He will not see me stopping here
Perhaps to skinny dip---but no.

My little bike must think it queer
To stop without a break point near
Between the car and quick stop store
The hottest morning of the year.

She gives her racing wheels a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the lap
Of easy wind on tiny lake.

The water's lovely, cool and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

5 comments:

CoachLiz said...

Phenomenal Age Grouper by Elizabeth Garcia with help from Maya Angelou


Pretty Age Grouper wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a pro triathlete's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The power of my pedaling,
The stride of my step,
The occasional medaling.
I'm an Age Grouper
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal Age Grouper,
That's me.

I walk into transition
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows turn and look or
Get up off of their knees.
Then they take a second look at me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my bike,
The swing of my tri bag,
And the joy in doing what I like.
I'm an Age Grouper
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal Age Grouper,
That's me.

Others themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the curve of my muscles,
The sun of my smile,
The depth of my tan,
The grace of my style.
I'm an Age Grouper
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal Age Grouper,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the love of my sport,
The improvement I have made,
the detail to coaching,
The friendships that will not fade,
'Cause I'm an Age Grouper
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal Age Grouper,
That's me.

Fe-lady said...

I am still stick on the Haiku and have about 12 of them for you....
But I see you have moved on already !
(sigh)

Bigun said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Bigun said...

Two point four, hundred ‘n twelve,
Twenty six Miles onward
Along the banks of CdA
Swam the 2600
“Forward the Lean Brigade!
“Toward Ironman!” he said:
Along the banks CdA
Swam the 2600

“Forward the Lean Brigade!”
Was there a one dismayed?
Not though the athletes knew
This day would continue:
Thiers not to make reply
They know the reason why
Theirs but to do and tri:
Along the banks of CdA
Ran the 2600

Sun shone above them,
The hard ground below them,
Hills rose a front of them,
Rising and rising;
Encouraged with yell and bell
Boldly they rode and well
Into the mountains of green
Along the path of Iron
Rode the 2600

Flashed all their muscles bare
Flashed as they turned in air
Cranking pedals there
Charging a mountain while
All the world wonders
Plunged in the heat and sweat
Right over the hill they broke
Men and Women
Reeled from steep grade
Shattered and sundered
Then they rode back, but not
Not the 2600

Sun shown above them
The hard ground below them,
Hills rose a front them
Rising and rising;
Beaten by pain and thirst,
Though Heroes all some fell
That they had fought so well
Came through the mount of green
Back from the path of Iron
All that was left of them
Left of the 2600

When can their glory fade?
O the valiant effort they made!
All the world wonders,
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Lean Brigade
Worthy 2600!

WalkerRuns said...

Hey Greyhound, I don't know who wrote "The Night Before Christmas," but I tried to copy him. Here goes:

FIRST OPEN WATER SWIM

T'was a cool afternoon and along the lake
The breeze it did blow and the aspens did shake
The skies overcast and the temp fifty-five
With water so cold, could I even survive?

I stepped out my car and greeted my pals
IronMan Ted and two newbie gals
We'd scheduled this first swim last week in the sun
With warm sunny skies, we thought it'd be fun

But typical weather in Montana does shift
One day there's blue skies, the next there's snow drifts
Ted had swam here last Sunday, "It wasn't too bad,
Perhaps with this weather it's cooled just a tad"

So we pulled on our wesuits-- a feat of its own--
Donned swim caps and goggles and earplugs of foam
Slicked up our rub spots with cool Body Glide
To make sure our new suits didn't take off some hide

All dressed up and ready, we walked down to the docks
Set down our towels and started our clocks
We'd swim to a red boat tied to a far shore
Then regroup and see if we'd want to swim more

Ted jumped in feet first, then came up with a clatter
We peered oe'r the edge to see what was the matter
He sputtered about before catching his breath
With water this cold, were we not facing death?

"Come on now girls, you've got to start swimming"
He encouraged us all, our nervousness brimming
One by one we jumped in, the cold quite a shock
And with choppy strokes, pulled away from the dock

My stroke length felt shortened, my rhythm was off
I sucked in some water and started to cough
The other gals, too, were swimming in fits
This lake swimming thing is really the pits

After what seemed like hours, we made it to our boat
It'd only been ten minutes, but I sighed "Phew-wee!
It feels like the first time I ever did swim."
Ted said "It gets better-- let's swim once again!"

We sighted this time for the end of an isle
We swam and we swam, it took quite a while
We regrouped again and complained of cold feet
I peed in my suit-- what wonderful heat

One-quarter mile doesn't seem very far
When jogging or biking or driving a car
Or when in the pool, swimming lap after lap
But back to the dock, it seemed farther than crap!

I stuck my head down and adjusted my mind
Started counting my strokes, and my rhythm did find
One-two-three, four-five-six, sev'-eight-nine and now sight
"Hey it's working," I thought, "I could do this all night"

Like any endeavor this swim was quite mental
To swim half a mile was so monumental
"Don't give up, Self, don't start to cry
Just tough it out, you're training for a Tri!"

Back at the dock we stripped off our suits,
Pulled on our sweatshirts and nice warm dry boots.
As I headed for home I thought of my race
By three weeks from now, I should swim like an ace!