10th Round.


Tenth Round.




I enter the graphite
on a white square,
ring bound.

A Eberhard

veteran of many
other documented


Fist clenched
around a

sharpened spear,
lead tipped
and ready to strike.

Staring down

my lifelong nemesis
a mental blockhead
who has left me reeling,
in so many

other titled bouts
of split decisons.

He swings

with a strong left,
leaving an

exclamation mark
on my chances
as my thoughts

desert me.

But I counter

with a pure write.
Scrabbling furiously
over the dead space,
till he tumbles

much like a toddler's
first grasp of gravity.

Expired even

as I am inspired,
Joyously I am hoisted
on the shouders

of success,
clutching my

latest prize.

A puga-list of
poetic pontifications,
declaring me
the champion

of puns.

More by this Author


No comments yet.

    Sign in or sign up and post using a HubPages Network account.

    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No HTML is allowed in comments, but URLs will be hyperlinked. Comments are not for promoting your articles or other sites.

    Click to Rate This Article