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The Mat - A poem by Matt Windle

Matt Windle was the Young Poet Laureate for Birmingham 2007-2008

Matt is a boxer as well as poet and writes about his sport in The Mat

Matt says: 'It's just a play on words between my name being Matt and the
boxing mat that you get knocked out on (the canvas).'

The Mat

Ding ding, ain't gonna take no more of that
While I lay foundations your gonna be laying out flat
On your back in the ring I'll introduce you to the mat
It the matt where the windle be knocked out of your sails
Where the unbeaten finally meets the word fails
Where reactions move slow like snails
It a place where even Josey wails
Canvassing more than opinion polls
I just moved the goal posts for you to score your next goals
The matt, the place that destroys thousands of souls
Crushed rocky for destiny after a barrage on the ropes
It the place that finishes all of your hopes
No joke, when it the mat
The colour of black that your eyes see before they close
The colour your eyes go when they heal from a broken nose
The colour of the soul as the ref shouts KO
See you bring the amateur rhymes while im mixing with the pros
Like a rabbit called captain Birdseye I think you just froze
It's the mat but not the thing you trod on when you walk through your door
It's the thing you're left laying on when you're wanting no more
I want us all to bring poetry into greatness
Make it higher then the Eiffel tower as we build up our status
Shook lines with hook lines leave a metaphoric crunch
By lines with fly lines timed so you don see the punch
Drunk, hit more than you should
Get out the ring and hide under your hood
You aint no good your corner threw in the towel
Here comes another verb combination so watch for the vowel
That hook was textbook described on the page
I got a vexed look, then took a big step up onto life's stage
Can't run away, this rings a square and a circle
Beat so bad your skin colours turned purple
Im the matt you have the mike as the little devil starts to provoke
Round one not begun and you've already chocked
The mat was underestimated and taken for granted
It was a straight 1 2 then he's back got planted on to the floor
He screamed no more im sure
It's over
He could see a white light bright light like the cliffs of Dover
The docter said he needs to be put you in recovery so roll him over
Because when it comes to poetry you know I love to slam
This man stepping up to rep Birmingham
Man like metaphor, free verse in the function
Big up the crew sauce from spaghetti junction
No H.P just you and me verbally opposed
You know what I think this fight club has jus closed

© Matt Windle

More poems by Matt
Matt has written two more poems about boxing called My Dream and Boxing.

Poems by Matt Windle, Young Poet Laureate 2007-2008
Birmingham Young Poet Laureate 2007-2008
About the Birmingham Young Poet Laureate
Birmingham Young Poet Laureate Shortlisted Candidates 2007
About the adult Birmingham Poet Laureate
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