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Poems On / About SWIMMING  7/22/2014 8:56:38 PM
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Women Who Begin With Letter S

Never published majorly,
But far beneath the sea, while I
Wake up on Tuesday after a holiday,
Holding my breath as a school of
Fish waits at the bus-: stop underfoot from
The lion,
I am surprised that I have arms and
Hands extended,
And a history brief and not well planned,
But sure,
And there are women who oppose my sex,
Who I am supposed to fit into,
Marry, love, support and reproduce into,
To eventually drift away every night
Our togetherness of the coital bed only
Highlighting how different planets we are,
But now I should move my fingers
And swim upward,
For there are bills and car insurance,
And naked speckled swimming in the shadows,
Their legs good enough to compete in
The Olympics,
For, you see, I created them. One of them
I named Lynn, all the others start with the
Letter S, and one day they might see the light
Of day,
So when the general populace wakes up
Sporadically, swimming into mass produced
Consciousness, they might see my women too,
And swim up into the belt of sun where
Green things grow, and notice how the sorority
Of freckled navels indent like flirting come-ons,
Like the bosom of fruit still clinging to its tree.
Robert Rorabeck

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On The Retirement Of Ian Thorpe

I heard on the radio in the sports news today
That Ian Thorpe the great swimmer has give competitive swimming away
A winner of nine Olympic medals five of them gold
Of his greatness in story and song we've been told
Australia's greatest ever swimmer if not the World's best
He was never found to be wanting when put to the test
But at twenty four years he said enough for me
At the World Championships and the Olympics him we'll never more see
At the prime of his life one might say a young man
But at top competitive swimming top swimmers do not have a long span
In the World of swimming he is an all time great
And his world Championship and Olympic victories Aussies did celebrate
A world renowned swimmer since he was a boy
And life after competitive swimming may he now enjoy.
Francis Duggan

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Pool Of Blood

I was swimming.
Swimming in a pool of blood,
That wasn’t my own.

I realised it was your blood.
It was your blood and it was my fault.
I didn’t mean to.

I didn’t think.
It happened and I cant change it,
But I’m going to drown in it.

I deserve to drown in it.
Don’t I?
It was my fault and nothing will change that.

So I’ll stop swimming,
I’ll drown and everything will be right again.
Everything will be normal.

Except, neither of us will be in the world.
We’ll be in this pool of blood,
Together, forever.

So, I was swimming,
But now I’m not,
And I don’t know why?
Rachel Brewer

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First Step

My eyes filled with blue
My legs felt the cold
My skin feels the heat
On a blue oceans bank
I am sitting in calm

Thinking about its calm
Thinking about its water
About its tides and depth
Its currents and circulations
And also its deadly species

I am also thinking about
Its mother-of-pearl inlay
Of ores mined in its bed
About decorative shells
And many more materials

Now I am at its bank
To swim its blue water
To swim its rough tides
To swim all its currents
To swim its life for life

Life may end in gold
Life may end in blue
However it may end
Whatever may happen?
At least ends by trying

So I moved from bank
And took my first step
My first step into ocean
No idea where will I end
But had taken the first step
Kranthi Pothineni

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Poems On / About SWIMMING