Here is a poem that I wrote some time ago, inspired by my love of boxing at the time and of my interest in Norse Mythology. Originally entitled simply "The Boxer" I feel that the title "The Calm Before The Storm" better epitomises what I was trying to convey in the poem; the raw emotions that run through a boxers mind whilst waiting in the wings for his time to fight and the emotions that bombard him as he steps into the ring and battle commences. I hope that you like this and I hope that it may for a moment transport you into the mind of the warrior of the square ring.
"The Calm before The Storm"
The clock on the wall ticks staccato
While my heart beats like a bronze automaton
The blood, sweat and tears a visceral perfume
My shadow mocks me like a ghost
My every move mimicked by my silhouetted counterpart
Every action met by an equal and opposite reaction
Only this opponent does not hit back
Sometimes I wish he would
To feel the sting of my own leather
Against my own flesh
To feel the bite of my own punch and see
My bloodied and battered form slumped before me
The ultimate sacrifice
I hear my name called
And find myself in the arena
The music stops, the lights dim
And the square ring stands before me
My dreams made flesh
The crowd a blur of noise and nonsense
Baying for blood - ad nauseam
I'll give them what they want
And then some
The referee speaks
While the judges watch like Valkyries
And I stare into my opponents eyes
Into his soul
I see fear and anxiety
A lamb to the slaughter
Let's get ready to rumble
And then we are alone
Two warriors born of rage and war
I want to help him
I also want to kill him
I do neither
As the bell rings and the dance begins
Round and round we go
Each thrust and jab
Each hook and cross
Invoking a violent, balletic riposte
The seconds pass like hours
The minutes like days
As we continue our engagement
Of agony and ecstasy
To the victor...the spoils
To the vanquished...despair
Valhalla awaits us both
Like the welcoming arms of our mother's
Call me what you will
Boxer, pugilist, modern day gladiator
I stand proud, and I stand alone.
While my heart beats like a bronze automaton
The blood, sweat and tears a visceral perfume
My shadow mocks me like a ghost
My every move mimicked by my silhouetted counterpart
Every action met by an equal and opposite reaction
Only this opponent does not hit back
Sometimes I wish he would
To feel the sting of my own leather
Against my own flesh
To feel the bite of my own punch and see
My bloodied and battered form slumped before me
The ultimate sacrifice
I hear my name called
And find myself in the arena
The music stops, the lights dim
And the square ring stands before me
My dreams made flesh
The crowd a blur of noise and nonsense
Baying for blood - ad nauseam
I'll give them what they want
And then some
The referee speaks
While the judges watch like Valkyries
And I stare into my opponents eyes
Into his soul
I see fear and anxiety
A lamb to the slaughter
Let's get ready to rumble
And then we are alone
Two warriors born of rage and war
I want to help him
I also want to kill him
I do neither
As the bell rings and the dance begins
Round and round we go
Each thrust and jab
Each hook and cross
Invoking a violent, balletic riposte
The seconds pass like hours
The minutes like days
As we continue our engagement
Of agony and ecstasy
To the victor...the spoils
To the vanquished...despair
Valhalla awaits us both
Like the welcoming arms of our mother's
Call me what you will
Boxer, pugilist, modern day gladiator
I stand proud, and I stand alone.
Copyright Ryan Woods 2015
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