
“Muhammad Ali – A Change is Gonna Come” by Paul Lovering
you wore the big belt and carried your medals
through the vigorous years of my life
so I made you my champion
adopted you for my own smart-ass demigod
colliding with culture and crashing convention
and I hung up your face on those troubling times
there you stood in all of your prizefighting finery
taunting us
rampant with arrogance and handsome conceit
your dark chestnut body chiseled
peak conditioned and pluperfect capable
dealing its deadly art
brutally beautifully
intricate footwork no heavyweight ring
has before or since seen
your long lightning reach
taking painfully accurate measure
of man after powerhouse man
with jab after knifepoint-sharp jab
splitting eyebrows and rattling chins
before loosing fast hammering flourishes
raining down real red-gloved ruin
delighting your grin and buckling their knees
until coup de grace blows send them crashing
like mighty felled trees to the canvas
flippant poetry
spilled from your lip into microphones
while cameras found the cocksure
that twinkled your eyes
there you stand in all of your champion’s finery
taunting us
still
From my book Bohemian Scents
The Greatest
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oh, yes
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I remember Cassius Clay …”Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. The hands can’t hit what the eyes can’t see.”
Awesome tribute for one of my 20th Century Idols.
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many thanks – he was the real deal
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Pingback: The Greatest — Poesy plus Polemics | davidbruceblog #2
thank you for sharing my poem with your readers
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Croke Park, Dublin July 1972 I was there.
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must have been memorable
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Far cry Paul from sitting listening to a crackly radio when Floyd Patterson was fighting.
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floating like a butterfly, stinging like a bee . . .
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doing the rope-a-dope here
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