Sorry if there is a delay in responses. Sometimes life gets in the way. As John Lennon said, life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.
There are two things that fascinate me,
that add a dash of summer sun to those bleak winter days.
Those things are the excitement and adrenaline
of American sports,
and the wonder and wit of English poetry.
There is something almost magical about American sports,
the Quarterback throwing a Hail Mary pass for the touchdown,
the Dodgers winning the Series with a cracking home-run,
the slam-dunk that almost shatters the back-board,
my friend in Arizona going wild when the Cats play football.
English poetry continues to casts its spell over me,
as I read the words and the verse on the page,
in the wonderful setting of Wordsworth’s Lake District,
or walking the same Salford city streets,
as my hero Dr John Cooper Clarke.
When I mention to my father in passing
where my two main interests lie,
he looks over his glasses and says with a grin,
‘You know Manchester has an ice hockey team,
and we’ve had basketball here for years.
And America has it’s great poets,
from Whitman’s Leaves of Grass,
to Frost’s Road Less Travelled.
Not forgetting Emily Dickinson,
Sylvia Plath, and Edgar Allan Poe.
And Ginsberg’s Howl still rings in my ears.’
My father went to his bookshelf,
running his finger along the dusty spines,
like a wizard looking for a particular book of spells,
until he found what he was looking for.
He handed me the book of American poetry
with the enthusiasm of a high-street preacher
pedalling his pamphlets.
My father’s words just scrambled my head,
like that trick with three cups and a ball,
so I head off to a Manchester hockey game,
with my father’s volume tucked in my back pocket.
In the break I flick through the pages,
tapping my foot in time to
the Beat of American poetry.
-
Author:
Tom Dylan (
Offline) - Published: December 11th, 2024 03:51
- Comment from author about the poem: I am a fan of American sports and all poetry. For the sake of this poem, I imagined the narrator being into English poetry.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: TobaniNataiella, Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments9
So well written that it seemed a movie, no better I felt I was there. So personal and intimate, it felt mine. Lovely Tom
Thanks so much, Soren. Really appreciated.
I am new to your work, but i really enjoyed reading this very well written piece of poetry, thank you
Thanks a lot for your comments, really appreciated.
you are very welcome
Good write Tom.
Thanks, Orchi. Appreciated. Cheers.
Great write
Thanks a lot, Tony. Really appreciated.
You're welcome Tom
The odor of nationalism given a good spray of common sense and openness.
Good for you, Tom.
Thanks Dave, really appreciated, mate.
Tremendous work. Creative and powerful.
Thanks, brother, really appreciate your comments.
There is a richness in diverse interests that attests to the complexity of humanity's multifaceted nature. A trove of valuable insight!
Thanks so much, Arqios. I was trying to explain my love of the excitement of American sports and the delicacies of poetry. Thanks again.
And both are equally enjoyable!
Oh! But this, I have been at a loss what to answer, it is so downright gorgeous and tricked out in style, I want to read and reread it for the sheer perfection. How beautifully rendered with such grand imagery to effect, and a delicious poignancy. Thank you so very, very much for sharing: I love it.
Wowzer, thanks a lot for that, Missy. Really appreciated. I wanted to write about how I enjoy the exciting American sports and also poetry and this was what I came up with. Thanks so much for your comments.
The lad did good .. very good 😎👍
Thanks a lot, Neville. Really appreciated.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.