TO POUND SOMEONE WITH YOUR FIST

The Greek and Roman athletes
Wore studs of iron on each hand;
Beating and clawing each other,
Like two tigers on the sand.

The English called it boxing first,
To pound someone with your fist.
Mostly it was done for money
But sometimes by those just pissed.

Matches of the bare-knuckle days
Lasted fifty rounds or more,
'Till one man's towel would be thrown in
As he lay upon the floor.

Boxers now use soft leather gloves,
With their hands wrapped in cotton,
Wearing a mouthpiece for teeth and lips;
They fight like those forgotten.

THE BOXER

My opponent’s huge but his brain is small
I’ll bust his chin and watch him fall.
He’ll greet the mat and moan and groan
As I stand in victory, he’ll lie alone.

Boxing is a game of sport
Loved by all both tall and short.
Cheers and shouts shall fill the air
Far more than a circus or fair.

I’ll jump the ropes and respond to the bell .
Engage in combat and fight like hell .
As the punishment begins, behold the test.
Soon the fans will know,“Who’s Best.”

By Tom Zart
Ringsides Poet