Dave and I have gone by the Pan Am Boxing Club several times on our walks in our neighborhood. The club which was founded just after Manitoba hosted the Pan Am Games in 1967 is a real community player. They are in the process of developing the building next door as living quarters for at risk youth in downtown Winnipeg who want to make a change in their lives. The young people who participate will be involved in a program that includes fitness, education and volunteerism.
The Pan Am Boxing Club is located in this beautiful old building on McDermot Avenue. I did a little research and found out it was built in 1893 and the top two floors were added a few years later. It was designed by Hugh McCowan and was home to the Stovel Printing and Publishing Company. A German newspaper called Der Nordwestern also had its editorial offices in the building. It is an official historic site of Manitoba. In the 1940’s a dry goods firm bought the building.
What I hadn’t noticed till I walked by the building on Saturday night was that the one side of it features the verses of a poem, a poem about boxing. The verses of the poem are tucked into window frames on the first two stories.
The poem comes from a book called VS. Kerry Ryan the poet is described as a shy, bookish woman who decided to take up boxing for the physical and mental challenge and became enamored with the sport as well as with the people at the PanAm Boxing Club. She wrote a book of poems about her boxing experiences which is available at McNally Robinson here in Winnipeg.
As a highschool English teacher I am glad to see that more and more poetry is being written about sports. I have had students almost every year who tell me they have nothing to write poetry about but when I suggest they describe a sport they love, suddenly a poem takes shape. Check out a couple written below by my former students.
Ice Warrior
As I caress the disk with my tightly clenched composite blade
I gaze to the far end o f the battlefield
I push off, smoothly gliding on the surface of solidified liquid
Dodging and looking
Over one colored strip, I turn sharply, spraying fine particles
Up into the cool atmosphere
I see one warrior coming at me, so I execute a perfect toe drag
I leave him searching for his jock strap, moving faster yet
Towards the target.
My head is low, too low, I soon realize
Before I can react, another warrior leaps out in front of me,
The collision seems to register higher than six on the Richter Scale
Farther behind enemy lines I go,
Speeding past the last defender.
I lean on my stick, flexing it to the brink of destruction.
The energy is released,
The puck flies,
Past the goaltender,
Off the far side post and in
The red light flashes on
The siren blares.
Hockey lives.
by Tyler Wollmann
Run
by Hannah Ma
I am sitting
on the bus
our destination is………
the race
Everyone’s talking, talking, talking
to each other
they’re listening to music
to pump
themselves up
Before we know it
we’re at the
starting line
waiting, waiting, waiting
for the blast of sound that
signals us to run, run, run
We float, fly, flee
past every obstacle
thrown our way
uphill, downhill, flats
we keep on running
“You’re almost there,
just 100 meters left!”
everyone begins to sprint, sprint, sprint
I can hear close breathing
I bet she’s just
a step away
so I try, try, try
to push just a little harder
the finish line in sight
the crowd cheers wildly
it is finally over
the digit doesn’t
matter
all I need to know
is that I tried
my best
Other posts about poetry…….
What Next? 