Rugby

Poetry

Standing in the line, watching the hue and cry,

the fight for the ball, sweat, heat, grunting 

shouting

Whistle hovering on the face of the overweight ref, shakily held in his hand

erupting from the chaos of bodies,

moves haphazardly out of into my hands

2 people in front, and the line

so its route 1

through both

try

satisfaction

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Introspection

 Floating Sighing, feeling my skin prickle as the cool wind catches it, tasting the scent in the wind, knowing that there is rain coming, the freshness fills my head as the clouds flit across the sky, betraying their masters as they gallop in their never ending race. Bird calls, dog barks, radio tinny in the background, announcing some sort of new thing in government twigs fly about, catching my legs, and clattering against the windows. clothes wrapped more tightly, neck enwrapped by layers of thick material Something warm perhaps or to eat both
Read more

The Small Things

 The Small things Sitting, feeling the breeze swirling around, lifting the strands of hair in front of my eyes, Eyes lifted, seeing and yet, not feeling the heat mixed into the cooler air, seemingly disturbing the humid air around the woodland that blanketed everything,  only small insects and birds daring to emerge. "The forest must be really hard to be in at the moment" I thought, catching the  line of a plane heading for warmer and sunnier places, passengers dreaming of the delicious food, cocktails and the white, sandy beaches stretching far into the hazy horizon. Still, the sound of the beetles and, there... a small mouse flitting across, under the leaves ... the scope of their world was just the leaves, plants and trees their hazy beach, some up turned soil their cocktails, a small twinkling dewdrop on the end of a leaf
Read more

Escaping

 escape The letter arrived this morning, telling me my fate "...report to ...." Hanging on every day, to find ways to avoid that destructive world, confused inside, hating the feeling of cowardice, but also feeling right not to want to "join up" to fight who ? My friend Pule ? My fellow students ? why ? They are me and I am them.  Human, equal, equally fighting for their lives as they should be not as they are  the beige or blue shapes on, in or alongside the trucks as they cause mayhem, crushing lives, destroying lives,  bringing the world down around them Grab the thread of a chance, and a week later, Im in a car off to the airport then in a plane a ferry a bus a taxi "get some sleep and lets catch up in the morning" a whole new world but my world was back there, the mountains, the crashing waves, pushing the bodies back to the beach feeling the southern sun on my face, shoulders thats my world and yet now, no longer escaped but now imprisoned in my mind...
Read more