This won first prize in
the New England Poetry Competition
n_n:
Wrestling Match
© Dragongirl Associates (Lexi)
I yank my laces taut, I pull my headgear on,
Maroon-cloth-covered plastic protecting my ears.
Coach gives me a nod.
I throw my shoulders back, stand straight,
And step onto the mat.
I reach out to shake my opponent's hand.
He looks nervous, not composed;
A tight knot of fear forms in my stomach.
The whistle blows.
We circle each other,
Trying to anticipate the other's move;
There is no sound inside the gym
Except the squeak of our sneakers.
He shoots! But I counter
He continues to drive through
As I sprawl across his back,
Forcing his head to the mat to spin behind him.
My coach is calling something
Both teams are clapping
My headgear flops down, obstructing my vision.
Sweat runs down my head,
My shoes skid on the mat.
I lock my knee in next to his,
And break him down under me.
Adrenaline rushes through my body;
Someone cheers.
He is underneath me, struggling to base up
As I bulldoze him over onto his back.
Almost there.
His shoulder blade inches
Toward the dark blue mat
As I lean all my weight on him,
My toes pushing, knees up, muscles straining;
My vision clouds; I can't hold on.
The ref's hand slaps the mat.
Coach lets out a whoop;
My team is cheering wildly;
I look up, hair falling into my eyes.
I scramble off, help my opponent to his feet.
We shake hands once more,
My dad runs down from the stands
And the ref raises my arm: winner.
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Lost Match
© 2004 Dragongirl Associates (Lexi)
I step out onto the mat,
Still nervous and cold.
My opponent is strong
And there is no fear in his eyes.
Coach says something to me;
I am not listening.
I know, somehow,
That I am not going to win this match.
I walk to the center
Nod to the referee
Shake my new opponent's hand,
The match begins.
He goes for a lockup,
And I can't resist.
His strength and experience
Outweigh my own.
He dives for a take-down
And I try to counter;
My hands miss;
I'm face down on the mat,
Coach calling instructions,
Teammates yelling encouragement.
I burst upward to my knees,
But he is too strong
And breaks me down again
Flat on my stomach.
His arm is blocking me
From rolling back over
As he thrusts himself into me
My shoulder giving way
Pressing me down.
I pinch back down on his arm
Almost back to my stomach...
But I can't hold on,
I can't resist
He is winning,
Slowly turning me over to my back.
Pain swims before my eyes;
My neck is on fire
My eyes are blurring.
I am weakening
My last ounce of strength
Thrown into futile resistence
I'm turned over;
My shoulder blade against the mat
The whistle's shrill shriek pierces the air.
Too quick.
I see the ref's hand slam down on the mat
Upside down before my eyes;
I've lost.
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