Gloves Are Off


We loved him



Quicksilver fast.

Taking visible minority

Used to low jobs

Servile suffering

Forgotten neighbourhoods

The military draft…

And elevating them

To self-determination




He coined phrases

Of comedic courage:

Thrillah in Manila

Rope a dope

Rumble in the jungle

Float like a butterfly

Howard ah’m so pretty

They ain’t nevah

Gonna mess this face.

And he fought

Knowing that there were


Fought when the sickness came

The shaking

And the softened voice.

His daughter took

The ring of contest in

The waning years of the sport.

He became a

Glittering gem

In the Afro-American


Of coming to age.

Coming to confidence

Coming to standing tall.

Old Glory now belatedly

Snapping its applause.

In winds of change.

For real men and women.

Who had a dream.

Note: Heard this morning of the death of the greatest boxer – Ali



Published by


Married and father of two. Living in Waterloo, Ontario. Workplace health and safety professional. Blogger. Poet. Nature hiker. History buff. Inspirational writer. Newsboy for Jesus.

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