The Four Temperaments of Swimming


Backstroke

the relaxed otter flares out
on its back carrying a stone
to open succulent shellfish

a sanguine rounder
the wise-cracking backstroker
can open a clam with the best of them

cheerful party animal
the backstroke swimmer finishes a race
but has never really been away
looking up and chatting the whole time

Breaststroke

the frog pulls down but not to worry
that melancholic marine won’t drown
a noisy introvert

the sensitive breastroker
although sometimes hard to spot
is comfortable in the depths

webbed-footed diver
after a race the breaststroke swimmer
looks for a leaf to sit on and frown
or to deliver the odd croaking sound


Butterfly

the slippery dolphin frees
itself in arcs of air

an intuitive leaper
given to flights of fancy
when the escape artist returns
is it a swimmer who can fly

or a swimming bird
the butterfly swimmer finishes a race
and has only been in the water
half the time

Freestyle
these scientists of the pool must blend
precision, prestissimo tempi, and bravado

controlled cholerics
who hold their metrics and their tempers
in the same studied rhythm and alternating ease
flailing arms to a six-beat kick

a dominant extrovert
the freestyle swimmer finishes a race
as he started it measuring each moment
with motion and pace

The 200-Meter Butterfly Considered as Tone Color
for the Muscles in Four Fluid Movements


Molto Vivo

lively muscles dive into emerald translucence
pumped like a brass fanfare with percussion
Gabrieli Purcell pride in their expression
of firmness form and control
the whole enterprise basking in
exhilaration of risk
exultation in power


Allegro Moderato

undulating easily a cheerful body
warms to immersion in yellow energy
woodwinds and strings plunge into full orchestra
Debussy’s “play of waves” invites
relaxation and expansiveness
if there is an aura around butterfly motion
here is where the golden circle rises


Allegro Ironico

orange arms windmill an ultramarine surface
as in a Fauve painting
Matisse Vlaminck Derain
but the upbeat tempo produces a slowing pace
horns muted enter violin and cello
the harmonies’ harsh Prokofiev Bloch
effort is expedited until warnings
near the end of the dial
flick on the blinking red light


Adagio

slowly engulfed by the ultra-violet largo
an invisible “I” searches
black light for evidence of fluorescent skin
the interior orchestra becomes
a string quartet of moaning meaning like
late Beethoven
the urge for excellence verges
on the mystical or is broken
in futile surges of splash