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Tuesday 28 March 2017

Happy Tuesday !

Today's guest writer is Martin Dixon..

His poem, in three parts is about the art of Professional Wrestling !




One: Dim Lights.

I who wear spandex and pretend to fight 

I who do this dance night after night

I who still help set the ring up just right

I am a professional wrestler

I who count the lights on the ceiling

I who am an expert at selling a beating

I who lose without crying or bleating

I am a professional wrestler

I who will tell you "I hate this man"


I whose wellbeing is really in his hands

I who must trust that he sticks to the plan

I am a professional wrestler

I who they've chosen to job to a big star from TV

I who they're paying 3 times more than me

I who could beat him up but you see,

I am a professional wrestler

I who will do the job again tonight

I who will try and make it a convincing fight

I who keep losing to the big boys night after night

I am a professional wrestler

I who electrify gyms, town halls and fairs in faded tights

I who tell myself someday it'll be stadiums with my name in lights

I who then will be able to say and actually be right

I am a Professional Wrestler


Two: Bright Lights

I am the one who has paid all my dues

I am the one with so much to lose

I am the one who makes headline news

I am a professional wrestler


I am the one who must raise the bar higher

I am the one to whom a new generation aspire

I am the one who can't afford to get tired

I am a professional wrestler


I am the one breaking bones on every continent

I am the one who's every move requires comment

I am the one who is savior and ire of the internet

I am a professional wrestler


I am the one on a ladder 15 feet high

I am the one who will fall from the sky

I am the one who must justify my price

I am a professional wrestler


I am the one who finally got "over"

I am the one who must try to stay "over"

I am the one hoping this will never be over

I am a professional wrestler.


Three: Fading Lights

I who still wear spandex and pretend to fight

I who still do this night after night

I who wish I was still under stadium lights

I am a professional wrestler


I am the one with a battered old frame

I am the one still trading on a name

I am the one sold as a legend of the game

I am a professional wrestler


I am the one who had an army of fans 

I am the one they would clamour to shake my hand

I am the one who let it slip from my grasp

I am a professional wrestler


I am the one who couldn't walk away

I am the one trying to live life in the fast lane

I am the one who has become what I hate

I am a professional wrestler


I am the one who is now the big star from TV

I am the one working a guy getting half my fee

I am the one remembering when he was me

I am a professional wrestler


He is the one with his star on the rise

He is the one with the fire in his eyes

He is the one hoping to see his name in bright lights

He is a professional wrestler


We who wear spandex and pretend to fight

We who do this dance night after night

We who work for you no matter how dim the light

We are professional wrestlers


By Martin Dixon






Great piece, as usual, if you've got some work you'd like showcasing, please send it in via the contact button or e-mail me directly at -

neville.raper@gmail.com

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2 comments:

  1. Hi Nev and Martin, This poem seemed familiar, then I realised I had read some before, then I found Parts two and three!! Well done Martin on writing epic verse, the rhythm and rhyme rushing all the way through it. Congratulations Martin. Thanks Nev.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks Marge, will pass on your kind comments x

    ReplyDelete