Zone

Today sees the launch of The View from Olympia, an anthology of poems on the theme of sport scheduled to coincide with the start of the Olympics in Tokyo. My poem, Full Circle is included so I'm not publishing that one on the blog. You'll have to buy the anthology - £10 from Half Moon Books. Instead, here's one that didn't make it.

I don't usually publish drafts, but here are three drafts of the one I thought was the best of the 3 I sent in. Shows what I know. Would version 1 or version 2 have worked better? Feel free to comment.

Zone

Set!

Nerves are my track, impulses wait
in the starting blocks of my brain.

Muscles, primed with blood;
oil on compressed springs.

Everything slows and the crowd
dulls to background hum.

Time becomes my domain
and I step outside of it.

See the raised pistol, the zeroed clock,
the camera caught in mid flash.

Reach into my chest and massage
my pounding heart, relax the life muscle.

In this elevated trance, this unearthly state,
I wait.

The gun fires, nerves light up and my muscles explode
and burn in the cacophony.




Version 2

Set!

Nerves are my track, impulses wait
in the starting blocks of my brain.

Muscles, primed with blood;
oil on compressed springs.

Everything slows and the crowd
dulls to background hum.

Time becomes my domain
and I step outside of it.

See the raised pistol, the zeroed clock,
the camera caught in mid flash.

Reach into my chest and massage
my pounding heart, relax the life muscle.

In this elevated trance, this unearthly
state, I wait.

The gun fires, nerves light up and my muscles explode
and burn in the cacophony.



Version 1

Sprinter

SET!

Nerves are my track, impulses wait
in the starting blocks
of my brain.

Muscles, primed with blood -
the oil on compressed springs -
are their finish line.

Everything slows and the crowd
dulls to background hum.
Time has become my domain
and I step outside of it, see
the raised pistol, the stopped clock,
the camera caught in mid flash.
Reach into my chest and massage
my pounding heart, relax the life muscle.
In this elevated trance, this unearthly
state, I wait.

The gun fires, nerves light up
and my muscles explode

and burn in an inferno of noise.

Tim Fellows 2020