The exercise:
So far, after ten days of the Olympics, my commute has suffered the following: one missed Skytrain. That's it. Equals about two minutes of my life. I suppose it helps that I've avoided downtown like the plague, but I normally go there about once every two months anyway, so no big sacrifice.
I mention the above because today's exercise is to pick a Winter Olympic sport and write a poem or short story about it. Or involving it, or however you want to include it.
Mine:
Biathlon
Gliding through the wintry woods,
A rifle strapped to your back;
It’s easy to get lost in time,
Though it’s hard to get off track.
Do your eyes see hungry wolves
When you look at your rivals?
Do you wonder if this is sport
Or more about survival?
Pause to take aim at targets
That are stationary prey;
Now back to your skis to complete
The hunt in your ancestor's way.
Avoiding Olympic disruption sounds pretty good to me, well done! Though as you say, if you don't spend a lot of time near where they're taking place, it shouldn't affect you too much.
ReplyDeleteI like Biathlon, its simple rhyme scheme and measured metre evoke the steady pace needed to sky across country to the targets. I kind of feel like you've not done the shooting part of the event justice, but then there's only three verses, so concentrating on one side of it is a sensible decision.
(I'm trying to get better at critiquing things, as you may have guessed :) )
Speed skating
I slice the ice
Underfoot.
A sharpened blade
Presses down;
At the infinitesimal
Point of contact
Ice melts,
Water lubricates,
And I skate
Forward.
I gather speed
Like a flower
gathering sunlight.
The spray of ice
sends crystals
High around me
And I pass through
Like a comet
With a glittering tail
And velocity enough
To shatter planets.
I still only come third.
Oh dear, daily critiquing practice? I've created a monster! :P
ReplyDeleteGood for you, though. I know I'm terrible at it and could use the practice. Not tonight though, it's late.
So I shall just say: I love the imagery of the second stanza. And, of course, the last line made me smile.
The mat is my home
ReplyDeleteFor which I have trained
Now is the time
When I will begin my Reign.
Darkness fills my mind
And the light sparks a fire.
This is how every wrestler is wired.
The crowd never falls silent,
Except to our ears.
We toe the line of remembrance,
For history is in our making.
Gold is our objective
Though only one is accepted
Who will come out on top
Those who never stop.
I am the king of my palace
For which I must stay.
This is my kingdom
And gold is surly on the way
We battle night and day
Until my opponent is slayed
This is my come up
And my time to stay.
Who will rule my kingdom
And take my gold away?