Badgerosity

Dopplegang

2012-01-31T20:33:00.000-05:00

A strangerparallels my line

Padding up anddown the strip

Lunging when Ilunge

Spooked by myretreat

She's

Thinner than me

More graceful

Almost suave

And strong

Muscled thighspropelling tiny steps

Maybe we'rerelated

Despite herlefty stance

I do detect afaint

Resemblance

Familial surmise

Maybe shereflects

My future

Or my past

Maybe if myinner mirror was more

True

She'd look evenmore like me

Or I like her

Maybe with unclouded eyes

I'd know myself, and knowing, become wise

The Fencing Master

2012-01-06T18:38:00.000-05:00

In memoriam, Bob Anderson

Hello,
Your name is not
Inigo Montoya

Before you stab and slash upon
the strip
You have much to learn

Prepare to die

Resolution

2012-01-01T21:49:00.001-05:00

Ease back

Don't leap atevery challenge

Just becauseit's there

Rest

A little bit

Make space toheal, recharge

Renew

Waste a littletime

Pilfered fromwork or practice

Spent onpenny-candy: chat & tease & laughter

Caloricfellowship

Building towardsa healthy social weight

Attend

To every letter,sentence, phrase

Plucked from theflow,

With utterconcentration, but

Now & then

Unplug

From streaming,breathless news

Inconsequentialurgencies

Be generous

In mentoring, inpraise and

Reconciliation

Accept thatpeople give

What they cangive

No more, no less

And dammit, yet again, this year I do resolve to

Remove the tissues from my pocket when I do the wash

Rehab Rap

2011-12-19T21:22:00.001-05:00

It’s the knee
The thumb
Feeling kinda numb
The ankle or the wrist,
Suffering a twist
The shoulder or the
Toe is
Fillin’ up with woe
Settled in the joint, in the muscle in the
Bone
The pain, or the tweak,
Makes itself at home
The throb or the jab
A momentary weak spot
Could even be a
Blood clot
(Isn’t that a sick thought!)

Got a bang
Or a bruise
And I’m threatening to lose
Some functionality
Fightin’ back with punctuality
Every day at the gym
Move the limb
Take a swim
Do a lift or a curl
Make the muscles unfurl
Tame the inflammation
Fend off degradation
Trying for salvation
Hoping that the next part
Isn’t going to come apart
Try’n to make a fresh start

Here I am on the mat
Layin’ flat
Feeling fat
Working on the hamstring
Try’n to do the right thing
Try’n to heal, Try’n to deal
Try’n to tame Achilles’ heel

No matter that I’m strong, I know it’s not for long
Susceptible to injury, I’m movin’ pretty gingerly
Hey, I’d wear body armor for protection from harm, or
Anything for luck, what the [poem redacted for young ears]
It’s worth a chance if it could possibly enhance
My invulnerability
Increase my stability
Limit my liability
Indestructibility
Not to mention fallibility

You got any advice
You won’ have to tell me twice
Just keep it concise
Tell me how to
STAY HELL-THY!

Faith Healing

2011-12-11T21:49:00.002-05:00

Recently I noted
Between coach & chiropractor
Familial resemblance

Firm hand and
Diagnostic eye
Critical assessment of just what
Is out of whack

Tracing the elusive
Origins of
Stiff ankle, sore knee
Errant point,
Pained hips
Unstable lunge
Back through cascading errors
To originating sin
Often the root is far removed from
What I blame for my distress

They then
Apply
Strategic tweak...
Momentary pain and
(ouch!)
Body, soul & psyche magically
Aligned

*Sweet relief*
Astonishment at
How bright the world is
Without
Pain
How joyous my attack when it
Unfolds
Unconstrained

Suddenly I realize just how bad things were in recent past
Too bad minor adjustments never last

Instars

2011-12-04T21:05:00.002-05:00

Convincing Caterpillar she will
Wake with wings...
A real hard sell
Even tougher?
Delivering the news that she
Will not

Some of us
Straining to transform
Rise each morning
Pretty much the same
Despite the vigor of our
Practice
Night before

Me, I take the strip with
Hopeless optimism that
This time will be different
Better
Innate flaws in execution
Magically smoothed
Stubborn intent translated into
Reformation
Hard work finally
Paid off

Instead,
I stutter step
Exhibit merely
Incremental growth
Minor tweaks in
Habits and behavior

Maybe metamorphosis is
Only for the young

And yet, (sweet Jesu, here we go again), might I feel chrysaline tonight?

New Home

2011-11-28T22:00:00.002-05:00

Blank slate colored
Floors smell
Of raw paint and
Possibilities

Tape tentatively marks the
Boundaries of
Many future battles

For one speck of time the
Coach’s desk is
Bare
Shelves well
Ordered
Tools not yet playing
Hide and seek

The lock is stiff
Light switches
Clean the bathrooms
Sanitary
Just for now

No one’s found their
Proper spot
Equipment shifts from here
To there and
Back
Even the parrot has
Not settled on her relocated
Perch

Closing up, I spy
Beneath the benches
Crumpled cup, forsaken glove
Fugitive spring, stray
Cookie crumbs

And so it starts
The slow accumulation of
Detritus
Physical and psychic
Karmic coloring

Be mindful as we write our history
Into these walls
The geomantic power of our memories
Emotion

Let’s make new stories worth the telling of the tale…

On the Slippery Nature of Truth

2011-11-13T18:38:00.002-05:00

I tell stories

Funny how they all reflect
The past with
Such a rosy glow

The bout concludes and
Straight away the
Spin
Begins

However much I
Think I want to understand
Exactly what occurred
And where
I erred

My well-constructed buffers
Intervene
Egoistic airbags
Pad my pride
Preserve my
Self-regard
En garde

Maybe if I rush to
Publication
Pause while soaked and half disrobed
To
Spill the beans
By tweet or text or post
--Debrief 2.0--
I’ll accidently leak the
Inside scoop
Straight poop

Tomorrow I’ll reread my own early edition
A true front line account sans error or omission

Appellation

2011-11-12T14:01:00.001-05:00

Otter ripples
Up and down the strip
Three hops and a glide
A bounce
A pounce
A nip and run away

Just half grown
—An otterling—
Still learning his
Capacities
His teeth and claws
Testing the
Muscled water of his
Lunge

He
Somersaults between
Frustration and playful
Delight in
Bite and tease and squirm
Impatient that he hasn’t quite
Assumed his final
Form
Not yet reconciled to the fact that
Some fish get away

I watch him wrestle, bout and
Grow in skill and
Speed
Sure-footed execution
Soon he will outpace my reach
Larking in his native element

May he always fence with otter confidence,
Otterly absorbed in his pursuit

Death Grip

2011-10-31T21:29:00.001-04:00

Grasp life gently
Held between
Forefinger and the thumb
Barely constrained

Clutch too tight and
Paradoxically you
Forfeit all control

Try to dominate, to
Muscle through—
You’ll only
Overthrow yourself
Exhausted by the
Energetic cost

Sure, there’s a chance
You may
Lose hold
Won’t
Feel the point you
Try so hard to
Keep in line
So what

Trust
That when your eye
Hits home
Your heart, and blade
Will follow

Palimpsest

2011-10-25T20:08:00.001-04:00

I feel raw

Scraped and overwritten
Reused, Repurposed
Pumiced
Milked clean

Layered shreds of
Stratigraphic codices
Documenting
Educative eras past
Ghostly underwriting
Intermingled
Texts
New-found wisdom bleeds
Into the old
Resurfacing at
Most peculiar angles

I find this overlay

Yields

Neologic teachings
Fragmented stratums
Systems disparate yet
Synched

A caution, if you think you can erase the past
And start anew,
Indelible notations may prove tricky to redo

Late Night Theme (The Badger Variations)

2011-10-23T19:27:00.001-04:00

Earlier, rain patterned on the roof
Now
The storm has wandered off, bequeathing
Ozoned postscript
Electrified
Alert

Aural backdrop fades to
Icerink buzz and thump and yell of
Hockey stick on stick on
Ice
Adolescent expletives
Muttered imprecations with
Distressing lack of
Creativity

Here, within the white walls of the Salle
My life constricts to
Euphony, the
Patterned footwork of the
Lesson
Clash of blade
and
Pant of aging effort
Contrapuntal commentary on my progress
(Or the lack, thereof)

Here, my auditory world’s complete
A soundtrack scored to amplify my
Moods, my meaning
Voicing my ambitions
Chord my life

Here I can seek harmony within, without
Here I can conduct myself in concert with my hopes and dreams

Dialects

2011-10-17T20:44:00.002-04:00

He twitches
You thwack

He pulls where you often
Push back

His humor—extra dry
Yours—let’s just say, employs a broader brush

Formality in counterpoint to
Sly asides that oft provoke a blush

This gesture of your arm means
Come, not go
When you approve you
Strike the blade
Just so

The mask whips off and you
Shout praise, not blame
An “A” for effort even if I blew
The phrase

And that’s just tone, contour
Inflection
The details of technique diverge
Upon dissection

The angle of the blade
Is off
The arm is out, not back
The parry with a whipping of the tip
Instead of opposition with the wrist

The same material entirely
Transformed
Through subtle permutations
Accents, mutant forms

This lexicon that I compile
—Russian into English coaching style—
Might serve other students well, but
Don’t hold your breath
This could take quite awhile

The Feline Fencer, Part II

2011-10-11T21:24:00.002-04:00

(An onomatopoeic sequel to this post)

Tip tap Tabby whack
Tappa tappa tappa
Thwack

Bippity bippity bippity
Thump
Swisha swisha
Flick!
Beeeeep

Sleek sleek
Stretch
Bow

The Butt First Lunge (© RFA)

2011-09-30T21:34:00.002-04:00

Forget about the leap, the reach, the
Scissored kick

Sure they cover ground
--Profligate, extreme
Nearly doing splits upon the strip--
Then leave you
Hanging out to dry
Stretched thin
O'erbalanced
All too often
Overthrown

Focus on the anchor.
Back foot rooted to the earth
Tunneling to the molten core
Powering volcanic bursts

The coiled power of the calf
The tensioned thigh the
Tucked bum
Leading with a coy swing of the hip

Stubby , powerful, controlled
Leaving open options
Waiting 'til last moment to
Ignite
Maybe not the showiest of moves
Stylistically impaired
Modest in it's reach
So you fall short--so what?

I'd rather live to take another try than
Flame out with extravagant ambitions

End Game: a poem on fencing, and life

2011-09-22T20:48:00.005-04:00

First Period
A slight naïveté
But boundless energy
Stepping, eager, to the strip
Soaking in the world
A little tentative,
Perhaps a little shy
Cautiously advancing proof, disproof
Thesis & hypothesis
Testing how things work
Mapping out the world

Second Period
Buckle down and
Concentrate
Naming what I’ve done, and seen
Learning from mistakes
Using what I’ve learned
Theory morphs to practice
Sometimes,
Almost
Confident mastery
Life begins to flow

Third Period
Shepherding my small stash of

Compiled wisdom

Conserving energy

Husbanding breath
Feeling every ache
Tapping my reserves

Careful strategy to
Navigate the final stretch
Bring me home
Consolidate my gains
Or
Last chance to regroup, revise
Revitalize my game

Naïve once again, I tell myself that, coming from behind
It’s never, never too late to attempt a save

Blessed Ignorance

2011-08-31T21:00:00.001-04:00

Hunting truth,
I should stop here
Balanced at the limit of my tolerance for
Revelation

Any further and I risk
Losing myself in clarity
Flawless visions of what
I don’t need to know
About myself

I fear that
Absolute and utter verity would
Rob me of my dreams
Freeze my capacity to act

At the fuzzy edge
Demarcating
Vision from delusion
Miracles can happen

Like bumblebees, I cling to the illusion I can fly
Hey, it works for them

Hooked

2011-08-27T19:09:00.001-04:00

Be wary of
Fleeting waves of joy
Momentary triumph
Fugacious victory

Pleasure ebbs
Each perfect moment past
Caught in rip-time
Swept away

Pleasure holds us back
Snagged by memory
Fighting the flow
Exhausted by vain efforts to swim
Back through time

Trust the fleeting current
Confident it will carve channels
Cultivating new and different
Joy

Only by forgetting
Is there
Any chance the past may reoccur

Plan B

2011-08-21T19:16:00.002-04:00

When your strongest game
Isn’t strong enough
Whatever reason:
Pits your strength against a
Stronger countermove
You’re being just a bit too
Obvious
Today, right now, it just doesn’t
Click

Cue Plan B

So what it isn’t quite your strongest move
Rough around the edges
Perhaps a little
Raw

You’re going down—why not give it a chance?

Maybe it’s a better
Fit
A weaker strength may find the armor’s chink
Might be a surprise
Perhaps a better rhythm for the day

But careful! Watch and see
Evaluate

Your own low expectations of the
Lesser move
May suck you in, keep you pushing launch when
It won't ignite

If it takes you even farther down, abort! Abort!

Your A game, falling short of your desire’s
Still a better bet…

Stalking Happiness

2011-08-18T21:13:00.000-04:00

A most elusive beast
Easy to scare off
Hard to pin down
Adept at Esquive

Successful expeditions must be
Indirect
Oblique
Seemingly pursuing other prey:
Health, strength, skill
Dominance or victory

Thunder hell-bent in pursuit of other goals--
You may well find you’ve
Snared a rush of joy as
By catch
Lagniappe
Collateral

Don’t get cocky—happiness is never caught the same way twice
And never will stay caught

Negativity

2011-08-15T19:01:00.001-04:00

Weak
Unfocused
Scared

Lazy
Ego-driven
Vain

Tense
Robotic
“Nice”

Fistful observations
Crumple me into a
Small, constricted version of myself

Would it hurt too much
For just one day
To throw the switch
Reverse polarity

Suddenly I’m

Strong
Attentive
Brave

Hardworking
Unselfconscious
Unassuming

Relaxed
Creative
Genuine

Maybe
With the pressure off I will
Expand
Swelling like a sponge, ready to absorb
Ideas, examples
Anything you teach

Words can shape reality

Gameful

2011-08-07T19:17:00.001-04:00

You think you know the rules
Conventions
Handed down from high
Neatly sectioned, numbered
Sanctioned
Endlessly debated (on the strip, and off)

I've simply layered on
My own augmented reality
A game beneath the game

Hidden in this notebook is my
Secret score
Coded annotations --
You puzzle when I pump my arm in triumph
Having lost the touch?
I'm not trying to gull the ref*,
I'm gleefully amassing points
Epic wins that no one else can see, or seeing
Recognize the import of
The covert action-of-the-day
Snuck into a bout:
Prime riposte
Coupe into six
Glissade
Crossover flèche

Ingenious &
Unnecessary obstacles
Clandestine quests
Challenge me to level up in
perseverance
patience
courtesy
Expand my repertoire
Try new things that certainly will fail
The first few hundred times

You want to play? Leap down the rabbit hole
Petition for your first assignment here...

*o.k.—SOMETIMES I’m trying to gull the ref. You know, just to see if it works.

Pause

2011-07-18T20:15:00.001-04:00

Reconnaissance
Scoping out my strategy
Formulating
Plans

Alignment
Target acquisition
All systems primed for
Go

Assessment
Tallying the fallout from my
Chosen act

Misdirection
Masking patterns that
Could betray my
Game

Reconnaissance, alignment, assessment, misdirection--what is left?
Ah! Rest. A precious chance to catch my breath

Preemptive Regrets

2011-07-12T20:27:00.002-04:00

I will miss

The sweet smell of puppy paw that
Permeates my glove

The diagnostic calluses that mar my palm
My toe
My heel

The wicked sing of blade on blade that never fails to
Speed my heart

The patient layering of wire into groove
(However I complain)

The late nights, soaked and spent and
Faced with early dawn

The verbal sparring
Pitting Ivy eloquence against a stubborn ESL
And losing, every time

The casual camaraderie of odd lots
Misfits
Kindred souls

I struggle to accept that
All things pass away

Head Case

2011-06-24T22:09:00.004-04:00

Gak! My shoulder's tense my
Rhythm's off my
Breath is short my
Shoe's untied

I've practiced this for
Many months it should be
Automatic here I am
Blowing the touch
again

STUPID I could see that you
Were going to squirm and
Yet
I missed
Impaled

If I don't win this touch this
Bout this
Pool this
Competition
I won't renew my C

Goddamit you are
TWELVE YEARS OLD I
Should whup your tail should
Run you off the strip
should...
Wait, I should calm down

I KNOW I that should
Disengage riposte into your six
666666 stop
THINKING and just focus on
The fact that I JUST GOT HIT
Again

I DO want to compete I
Want to win no to fence well
No be a sport a
Good one but
My stomach hurts I
Think I've jammed my toe

Every Blessed Thing

2011-06-18T21:28:00.001-04:00

The tip jams the
Barrel wiggles loose the
Wire pops out of its groove
And severs cleanly when you beat my blade

The socket will not hold the prongs the
Prongs work free from their appointed nests the
Body cord is faulty at the clip the alligator or
The plug

My sweaty bib grounds out, the Velcro on my
Glove will not stay closed
Tabs holding crucial D-rings fail
Leaving me unmoored

The floor cord jams
The turtle starts to crawl along the floor the
Box displays its lights in
Seemingly random array

With all the fardeling around it takes to make the pieces work
It’s a bloody wonder that we ever get to fence

Annotations

2011-06-17T19:17:00.002-04:00

Your first step, a little large
Leaving you
Open to attack

Your feint
A trifle weak
It leaves me unconvinced

Your parry, good!
So firm and strong, but
Where is the riposte?

And your back foot
Trails so far behind
(with knee sunk in)
You have no stable basis for your lunge

Other than that?
Perfection. Go kick butt

The Feline Fencer

2011-06-10T22:11:00.001-04:00

Tabby is a cautious beast
She teases, irritates and stalks
Instead of charging down the strip
She hunts, and takes no chances

Rarely going straight on in
Avoiding obvious attacks
She seeks, rather, to hypnotize—
Her waving blade entrances

But her favorite move by far,
Is flicking lightly from aloft
A pitter pat and tabby whack
With staccato advances

The padding feet, the
Whiskered sensitivity to threats
The lighting paw
Combine to make a fearsome foe
But if you squirm and twist away
You’ll keep her on her toes

Cats’ fatal weakness
(Hush, don’t tell) is earnest over-thinking
If you can
Engage her brain
She’ll freeze and falter, blinking

A lethal agonist, it’s true, a deadly opponent,
And yet, you’ll find, when off the strip
A gentler, more domesticated beast you’ve never met

Interception

2011-06-03T08:48:00.005-04:00

It's about control…
Or lack thereof

Without the confidence to
Take my game and
Shove it down your throat,
Force you to submit

I badger and I bait
Deconstructing what unfolds
Trusting I can handle
What goes down

Making the best of
My unstable game
Maybe I can commandeer your moves
Shape them to my ends

Provoking opportunities
Seeking reagents for a catalytic act

Fencing 101

2011-05-28T20:33:00.003-04:00

Shake hands with the grip
(A firm but gentle grasp)
Don’t clutch it like a club

Hit with the pointy end
(Aim for the middle)
Don’t thwack

When attacked
Push the blade aside
Then stick out your arm

Knees bent, butt in, shoulders back
Wrist firm, arm relaxed
Don’t sneeze in your mask

Move—use both directions
Advance AND retreat
Proper footwork—don’t go running down the strip

And (this is most important)
Don’t forget to breathe

Play Date

2011-05-26T20:14:00.000-04:00

No score
What a great subversive twist!
A psychic liberation
No hormone-ridden clash, no angst
Just curious experiments
Empiric testing of hypotheses in
Endless permutations

We set the timer and
Proceed to frisk
Open-ended forays leading
Who knows where
Digressions, loops and ambulations
Testing a then b then c
Progressive iterations

Prototyping possible assaults, I
Coax my hand and feet to
Execute the code
And fail
But failing, find another possibility
The germ of innovation

Soft Start

2011-05-14T21:02:00.000-04:00

Stealthing glide, a
Nonchalant approach that
Signals nothing, leaving open
Possibilities
Offers only
Ambiguity
Flirtatious hints
Seamlessly segue to lunge
Or shyly metamorph into retreat

No grand gesture welcoming
Attack on preparation
No blatant telegraphing of intent

Just…balance
Open-ended options
Pluripotent paths
Potential bifurcation

A perfect poker pace
To mask intent

Typology

2011-05-08T22:12:00.002-04:00

The Strategist
Relying on deliberative acts
Seeing, naming
Choosing
Always calculating one move or two
Ahead
Playing the odds &
Counting cards

The Visionary
Seeing possibilities that
Are not there
Until called into being by
Flights of fancy
Spiked imagination
Summoning with dreams

The Natural
Displaying unforced feeling for the fight
Racing the rapids of the bout on
Instinct, faster than the rational mind
Responds
Pulling off
Unlikely victories

Three paths to success
Three very different roads
Which traveler are you?

Clarity

2011-05-06T21:52:00.002-04:00

Each of us seeks truth
In her own way
Upon the mat, the piste
The page
Chasing metaphoric ice
Dumped down the neck
—rude awakenings are preferable
to sleep—
Losing balance
Stretching for the touch
Groping for the perfect metered word
Stumbling on
Pellucid acts
Slicing through the ambient confusion

Sometimes caught in
Preparation
Unbraced for the damage
Truth, unbound, inflicts

CrossWord

2011-04-30T19:56:00.001-04:00

So many clues…
The eagerness or caution of your steps
The shadow of your parry when I feint
The angle of your blade as
You prepare offense

Still, I struggle to detect the theme
Fill in the blanks
Fumbling with possibilities that
Seem to fit, but later prove
Just one letter off

You cleverly disguise the import of your acts
Throwing me
Misleading hints,
False leads,
Puns and misdirections

Surrounded by the residue of failed attempts,
Disparate answers that won’t integrate
I mutter curses as I
Regroup, reformulate my thoughts
Grope for another phrase

As I reset the score and start again, the lesson’s clear
Never write your strategy in ink

Earnestly try to make erasable mistakes

Closed Line

2011-04-21T21:57:00.002-04:00

So many things I can’t control
Your speed, your
Laser-guided point
My paltry set of skills

I can at least
Set this one factor constant
Nail it to the wall:
My quarter four is closed
Shuttered, barred and inaccessible
Don’t even think
Of trying to assault that line

Except, of course
You do
Because that’s where you end
By force of habit
Preference and practice
You’re so very sure at the last moment
I will waiver, flinch and
Open up a little bit
A crack, enough that slender blade
Slips through

Except, of course
I don’t
And so your weapon meets a
Solid line of steel
In effect, you’re parrying yourself
And I need just riposte
Supreme efficiency

(Damn funny, too)

A lesson here to take into the world
Sometimes all you need is sovereign confidence in one sure thing

Insistence

2011-04-17T19:53:00.001-04:00

Sometimes success proceeds from
Mere determination
Rather than from practice, skill or luck

Single minded focus
Stubborn fixation, blind persistence
At times, improbably, pays off

Think of your attack: met by well-timed parry
Prudence dictates drawing back but
What gorgeous surprise if you bull through!

It works, a little bit, in life as well
Naïve optimism, dogged perseverance
Never letting “no” dictate a halt

Therefore I’m not eager to renounce
My confidence, my ego (if you will)
Extravagant in its ambitions

I know deep down I’m brave I’m strong I’m
Capable of plowing through brick walls
I should embrace these native attributes

Instead, too often
Ambushed by uncertainty, stained by fear
I freeze, immobilized by doubt

At such times I need to break
The stasis of distrust
Remembering:

Impervious defense will sometimes yield to
Forcing of the blade

Liberation

2011-04-04T21:00:00.002-04:00

iChing fortune: “You have become too friendly with your inner demons. It's time to take them out one by one”

I know my inner demons
Perhaps a bit too well
Familiarity has bred…
No, not contempt
But resignation

They’ve scratched themselves a cozy nest
Claiming the best room in the house
Inured me to the
Raucous parties that disrupt my sleep
Pilfered my stash of
Small essential things
(Toothpaste, bandages and soap,
Contentment, self-respect)
Dodged the basic chore of
Taking out the trash

When bored, they entertain themselves by
Poking through my closets
Hauling out embarrassments I’d
Stashed deep in the back, intending to discard

Examine ancient photos, scrapbooks, yearbooks
Laugh hysterically at images
Documenting slow and painful growth
Youthful experiments
--and note I haven’t changed

These uninvited guests have long o’er-stayed their time
Trashed the house
Devalued property
Pissed off the housemates who endure my moods
Why don’t I just insist that
They decamp?
Heave their sorry asses out
Into the night?

It may be I secretly believe that
They hold valid title to the space they’ve claimed

I need an advocate to serve them notice
Terminate their stay
A champion with utter faith that I deserve
My peace, my solitude
A little bit of healthy self-regard

I’d post a notice for this opening
Trusting to receive (in this economy) an avalanche of applications
Even for a job as odd as this

Except, alas deep down I recognize
I have to conquer my own doubt
I’m the one who let the demons in and
Only I can boot them out

Reprise

2011-03-31T21:36:00.002-04:00

If this life is better
Polished by a couple hundred repetitions
Think
How appalling my first self
Surely was, to start

I wonder
Of that first iteration
What shards and tattered scabs
What stubbornly resistant bits
Remain?

And which are new
Or if not truly new
Uncovered, excavated
Polished
Brought to light

And by what tics and
Fundamental flaws would one dear to me
Spot me in a heartbeat
This time ‘round

The sages say with time
And work
With meditation
I become more like myself
And
Closer to perfection

I suspect my deepest parts
Those most truly me
Are petty
Adamantine spikes resistant to reform
Fears and insecurities
Excessive self-regard

If I’m destined
Through these lives
To bump against you time and time again until
I get it right
I think we’re in for
Many more encounters

That being so, go hard on me

In each new bout, push me a little further down the path

Stats

2011-03-26T21:34:00.001-04:00

I suspect that
I’d be better off if
I stopped keeping score

Obsessively comparing
Year-to-year
My numbered place
My relative results

I wonder if like
GDP
Such indicators warp the measurement of
What counts most

I need to formulate instead an
IFH
(Index of Fencing Happiness)
A running tally of my
Pleasure in my game

Metering a steady rise
Marking each advance in
Tactics, strategy
Self-control

But truth to tell, while
I’ll aim to excel holistically, track quality of life
I’d like the bling as well

Theory and Practice

2011-03-20T21:29:00.001-04:00

Given you are fast, where I am slow
And hard, where I am soft
And steely in resolve, where I am insecure
Given what you have, and what I lack

It may be, sometimes,
That there are moves, habitual for you,
That simply do not fit
My hand, my mind, my knack

Conversely
If the universe sees fit to grant
An act or two that spring, unbidden to my hand
And work
Who am I to peer inside the horse’s mouth?

Perhaps not all instruction can be
Strictly by the book
There need be room for variation
Idiosyncratic quirks
Standard deviation

I promise: I will earnestly audition all that you suggest
But in the end, can we agree, whatever scores consistently is best?

Checklist

2011-03-18T21:29:00.002-04:00

If I leave my foot
To putter
Pad and stutter,
Settle to its innate pace

If I sit,
Balanced on my backside
Tail knit, bum tucked
Muscles neatly coiled underneath

If I breathe
Scour the conduits
That focus power
Flush the tension from my bones

If I relax
Open chest, lifted heart
Shoulders butterflied across my back
Embodying fearless intent

If I firm my wrist
Fix my gaze,
Follow through
Let my touches
Land themselves (as they know how)

If I can master mustering these “ifs”
Then maybe, maybe, this won’t be so bad

Recombination

2011-03-17T22:04:00.001-04:00

Untroubled by the facts, blessed with
Blithe disregard of circumstance
You launch attacks with perfect confidence that
You will land
Cycling through your modest repertoire
Totaling three—a long offense, counter attack, remise—
(Note, nary a riposte)
Which works improbably well until
You meet an opponent who sees and understands, and then
You’re toast

I, on the other hand, am burdened with
Pretty good apprehension of the next move in the dance
I recognize the weakness to exploit
The opening to seize, proper response
My handicap—
I see too many endings. Beset by “but…what if…then you….”
Paralyzed by doubt, I lose my chance

Modern biotechnology may offer resolution
If we splice your fencing DNA with mine,
I guarantee an elegant solution
A stunning piece of alphabetic math
In which the sum of confidence and guile ensures
That “D” combined with “C” will yield a “B!”

Ingrained

2011-03-04T21:46:00.001-05:00

Your butt sticks out

His knee collapses inward on the lunge

She squeals when attacked, frozen into immobility

His hand—magnetically attracted to his chest

Her automated defense—stick the arm out straight
And run away

I haven’t seen this crew for a full year
And nothing’s changed
Habitual reactions
Technical tics
Deep rooted and, I fear
Entirely resistant to reform

My consciousness uncomfortably aroused
I catch myself in surreptitious glances
At my feet
Peeking o’er my shoulder at my tush
Self-consciously suspecting a dispassionate observer
Back from leave
Would think the same of me…

Oh Stuart, can we get a mirror for the salle?
A little self-reflection could be good for all

Acuity

2011-02-14T20:33:00.007-05:00

I don’t wear glasses when I fence
After all, how clearly must I see to hit these massy foes?
(Even the little ones are plenty macroscopic)

Besides, their blurry edges are better proxy for the world
It’s rare to find the outlines of our target crystal clear
Do you know exactly what you want or is your goal
Approximate
Oblique?

Forget the ambiguity of borders
Focus on the center with
Relentless gaze

Let peripheral attention do
What it does best
Tracking random movements and distractions
Warn of inbound threats

As long as I have depth of field
Perspective
I’ll do just fine
Half blind

Hierarch

2011-02-13T21:10:00.001-05:00

You ask me for a bout
I graciously oblige
So blithe and unconcerned
Dancing at the edge of your exertions
Gliding out of reach or
Interrupting your attack
Tossing off a little fencing humor—counter attack with squirm
Feint and run away
Embarrassingly simple lunge and touch
5-1
Salute, and bout

We find each other on the strip
An even match
We dally, butterfly and vamp
Exerting all our wiles
I draw on everything I know of you to
Put one over
Game your quirks and foibles
Sometimes we end 5-4, sometimes 4-5
If I prevail, I know without a doubt that
You’ll adapt—next time I’ll need to
Up my game

Humbly, I ask to referee
And cycle in
Even watching it’s a struggle
To parse your strategy, call your blinding moves
When I plug in I become a stumblebum, a clod
A rank initiate
But you—so blithe and unconcerned
Dancing just beyond my lunge
Gliding out of reach
Interrupting my attack
A little fencing humor—now the joke’s on me
I barely score a touch

And so I backtrack to my first opponent
Reassure myself that
I can move
Can make the colored light go off
(More to my credit, to rehearse the moves that
I suspect might work some day, scaled up in
Speed and execution)

We cycle through the salle
A fencing reel of couples swapping partners
And frustrations
Egos waxed, and waning
Eclipsing and eclipsed
Tutoring and schooled
(And smarting from the lesson)

Pardon, may I add you to my dance card for the night?

Scheherazade

2011-01-31T20:46:00.001-05:00

“What, again?”
(You roll your eyes)
“I tell you this repeatedly
I am not speaking English?
You do not understand?”

Oh yes, Я понимаю
But spin the tale once more

Tell me for the umpteenth time how
Clever disengage wins out o’er savage parry
And fearless straight attack triumphs
Against the evil squirm

Fill my head with glorious tales of
Canny strategy, ingenious machinations
Perfect form

These stories I will carry
Through my sleep, the nucleus of
Epic dreams,
In which (of course)
I play the hero’s role

Так, да, I understand,
рассказывают мне
историю снова!

Automotive

2011-01-24T19:35:00.001-05:00

I want to be a car

High performance
Complex piece of engineering
Chock-o-block with safety features
Tested to the nth degree

Subject, sure, to bumps and dings
Marked after not so many years
By dimpled fenders, scratches on the side
(Not so different from what I suffer now)

But, short of a total wreck
So easy to repair! A crumpled bumper—pfft, it’s no big deal
Let’s hear it for industry standard
Duplicative swap-out parts

A falter in the engine?
Pop the faulty spark plug out,
The new one in, and
Zoom! Back on the road

Broken strut? Power off the bolts
Give it a firm whack, detach
Snug a new, strong bar in place
Instant stability

No prolonged convalescence
No inching back up to speed
No reconditioning
Just damaged…and then whole

Skip the lavish packaging
The moon roof and the heated seats
Just nail the basics—a smoothly ticking engine
Four wheels on the road

After 200 thousand miles
I’ll be ready to be junked
But until then

I want to be a car…

Proper Practice

2011-01-21T21:18:00.001-05:00

By not trying too hard to
Make the touch
You’ll make the touch

By being unconcerned with
How you look
You’ll garner admiration

So take it
Step by step
Don’t push too hard

Sure, you’ll lose at first
But with time, I promise
You’ll know why you lost

You’ll try a proper action
It will fail
So what? You’ll try again

Eventually you will
Gain ground
Point by patient point

By not attaching to
Results, you will

Go far

Sutra on the Full Awareness of Breathing: Badger’s adaptation

2011-01-20T19:52:00.004-05:00

Breathing in, I know I’m breathing in
Breathing out, I’m conscious that it’s

No small thing (given that it doesn’t always work). Prize the simple miracle of air, mindful of each hitch, catch, snag or ragged edge. Watch for the still point poised between the in and out

Breathing in a long breath, I know that I am breathing in a long breath
Breathing out, I

Purge the flotsam of a messy day

Breathing in a short breath, I know I breath a short breath
Breathing out I

Get to work

Breathing in, I’m aware of my body
Breathing out, I am aware of

Every injury I’ve ever had, an ever growing litany of use, somatic resumé

Breathing in, I calm my body
Breathing out, I

Breath through each bruise, ding, tear, stitch, scar and point of inflammation. Working like a barnacle to scrub all hurt and ill from out the endless sea

*now to the good stuff*

Breathing in I feel joy on the strip
Breathing out I feel

A welling eagerness for battle, curious to see, when pressed, what will spring out, a little bit of trepidation

Breathing in, I feel equanimity
Breathing out, I really try, but

This one’s hard—to be ok with any outcome, touch or touched, flow or choke, prince or foolish mammal

Breathing in, I am aware of my attachments and aversions
Breathing out, I recognize

Addiction to the colored lights, to victory, to bling, to all the self-aggrandizing myths I wrap around myself, embellishments of life; Antipathy to loss of face, dissention to my version of the truth, irritating people who won’t play the parts that I've assigned

Breathing in, I release attachments and aversions
Breathing out,

I tug at their barbed hooks, try to see them vanishing like mist

Breathing in, I’m aware of my mind
Breathing out, I am aware that my mind

Lurks, watching, endlessly engaged, meddler in the center of all acts, so clever and so maladroit

Breathing in, I make my mind happy
Breathing out, I try to strike a deal

You have a valued role! To notice and to name, suggest solutions and then (very important) step back and let the body be

Breathing in, I concentrate my mind
Breathing out, I try to concentrate, but

…Cereal or toast? Red boots or black? The cookies that I baked last night could us a little…ack! Begin again, again, again

Breathing in, I liberate my mind
Breathing out, I caste a net

Seining for the ping of distant cars, cats’ purr, ticking of the heat, the warm vanilla scent of wax, the itching of my foot.

Breathing in, I contemplate the transience of things
Breathing out I recognize

This sac of flesh and bone—all it is, and does, is just on loan and subject to recall. Each step I made today will be retraced, all progress lost with time. Everything I love—people, places, simple pleasures—will fade or break or morph into an unfamiliar form

Breathing in, I practice non-attachment
Breathing out, I figure that I

Might as well let go before it’s torn away

Breathing in, I practice letting go
Breathing out

Accept that, in the end, I can’t control my life, I open up my hands and wait for what drops in

Breathing in, I practice cessation
Breathing out,

I sit, a still point on the turning world, wheeling through the stars, fulcrum to a universe blissfully unaware of my attempts at meditation

Unconquerable

2010-12-28T18:10:00.001-05:00

Note to self:
When being trounced, don’t frantically try
To even up the score

Resist the rabid impulse to
Make up lost ground
Attack against all odds

Goal one should be don’t get hit

Punch “reset” and
Renegotiate the terms of
The encounter

Throw up a flurried wall of
Obfuscating action
Sabotage the opposition’s game

Change the rules
Shake her faith
Infect her hand with doubt

Forget victorious
For now, just settle for annoying

If the pace was slow,
Go fast; the distance far,
Stay close

Cultivate a calm and even gaze
Accept that I’m already dead, and
Badger from the grave

When I’ve regained an even keel
Taken back the rhythm
Begun to lead the dance

Then turn the tide
Touch by careful touch—one eye on the clock
An easygoing haste

Now, to ink this on my hand
A cheat sheet when the chips are down…

What I Learned this Year

2010-12-25T21:06:00.001-05:00

Attachment
Creates negative polarity
In time, it severs
Its own bonds

Friendship
Is a coin with
Two sides, else it is
Worth nothing

Loyalty
Can live on air
But, unfed, becomes in time
Quite thin

Compassion
Born of true affection
Blooms in arid wastes, seeks
Nothing in return

Hungry Eyes

2010-12-23T19:21:00.002-05:00

I want your lunge
Her lovely feint deception
His facility to flick
Feather light, airing o’er my back

I want your equanimity when
Chasing seven touches, forty seconds left

I want her squirm, displacing target to
An alternate dimension

His ESP intuiting exactly
Where my tip will land

I long to assimilate
The beauteous traits deployed
By my opponents
Ingest them as my own

I want I want I want
Sometimes, to be
Anyone but pedestrian me

A Visit to Rockville Fencing Academy

2010-12-19T19:25:00.003-05:00

50 Southlawn Terrace
Midnight, Christmas Eve
Beneath a bright Polaris
All’s quiet on the second floor
(Since, alas, we lost the mouse…)
And peace reigns in the corridor

Down the darkened hall
Beyond the stern, foreboding sign
(“Halt! Past this point, only patrons of the salle”)
A shuffle, giggle, clomping and soft “hush!”
The lock jiggles, pauses, and gives way…
In tumbles a multi-colored and chaotic rush

It’s not just dear Saint Nick, it’s the whole crew
Halfway through their rounds
Their break is overdue
In quest of cookies they’ve set forth
(As Badger Bakery’s rep has spread
From Maryland to All Poles North)

They polish off the platter
(Salty Oat and Chocolate Chip)
Tidy up stray crumbs, begin to chat and natter
They’re almost ready to embark, but lo! Attention strays
To jackets, neatly hung upon the wall
To blades, brightly arrayed

The elves begin to shuffle and postpone,
Glance at the Boss, their eyebrows raised
He sighs, and checks his phone
Mentally parsing flight times to Ukraine
Then shrugs and gestures to the room, and…
Lets chaos reign

The reindeer joust, bellowing and snorting
Up and down the strips
Noses alight with every touch, cavorting
Red Green Red Green Red Green White
The scoring machine reprogrammed
To belt out “Silent Night”

Santa fences epee, relaxing from his toils
A big man bouncing lightly on his toes.
The elves grab thirty-two inch foils
--Jackets coming to their knees,
Masks to their belly buttons--
And demonstrate their expertise

When its time to re-engage his troupe
A thump of the katana and they freeze
Gather up the scattered gear and, lightning, they regroup
Snip! Snap! Slap! Everything is back in place
The foils racked, the jackets clean and pressed
The trash thrown out, each cup and stray shoelace

Lights out, door shut, the racket fades
All’s peaceful, none would ever know
Except…the jumbled stack of broken blades
Neglected by their warder
Are wired, taped and neatly stacked
In perfect working order

With courteous formality
A neatly lettered note
“Thanks for your hospitality”
From distant sky, a jolly voice belts out
“Merry Christmas everyone
And to all, good bouts!”

Robots

2010-12-08T21:28:00.002-05:00

I am beset by
Legions
Drilled in
Subroutines
Timed to the metronomic beat of
Habit

Advance, advance, feint-with-disengage-and-lunge

Lovely!

Perfect in execution but
(Thank heaven)
Flawed in application

Repetitious
Mechanistic
Formulaic
Numb

Programmed in deft
Sequential acts devoid of
Context
Drilled to inappropriate
Perfection
Vulnerable to
Improvisation, the
Unexpected

Present a paradigm that
Does not fit their
Program and it

Gums up their gears

Worms its way into their head and

Brings them down

I’ve never been so grateful for my glitches
For my rank and all-too-human quirks that simply don't compute!

Anitya (Impermanence)

2010-12-06T22:33:00.001-05:00

I can intend to
Try
I can intend to
Persevere
Intend to
Heal
To keep my limbs
As polished, supple as my
Blade

I can’t stop time

Time will heal
And in time
Time will unwind what it has
Knit together

I am
Refurbished
Not
Renewed

For now, that is enough

Creativity

2010-11-21T15:00:00.001-05:00

Once the basics
Sink
Into the bone, the nerve
Enmuscled memory
Percolate beneath the skin

Once the lunge is
Automatic
Parries auto-load into
The proper line
Ripostes self-detonate
Incognizant but
Deadly

At last
One day
One bout
One moment left unplanned and
Foosh
Ignition

Improvisation
Commandeers my blade
Highjacks my hand
A sequence that I never learned
Explodes, a
Leap surpassing practice
A clever commentary on the
Act

Spooked by my startled
Exultation
The moment flees
I’m left
Bereft
Armed only with
Convention

But deep inside, a hollow’s left behind
A puddled imprint, waiting to refill
When drought lifts and inspiration storms…

Safety Distance

2010-11-15T07:22:00.001-05:00

Flirting at the edge, always a
Little out of reach

Pulling my long attack while
Scoping out my game

Throwing off my tempo, making me

Unsure

Clever strategy, or just
Aloof?

At this remove you are
Untouchable

Hazarding no bruises or
Abrasion

No inadvertent chance of
Corps-a-corps

Clever? Perhaps, but
When all’s said and done

You have to dare engagement for
The chance to score

Keeping Score

2010-11-06T13:40:00.001-04:00

The flip side of my triumph is your
Disappointment
Anger
Rueful irritation

The obverse of my failure is your
Joy in victory
Extraordinary or
Mundane

The touches, tallied
Sum to zero—
Either way, the balance is
The same

The Powers that Be don’t care if you or I are
#1
Only that the sheet is neat, correct
And signed

A lesson here
In cosmic disregard for our
Concerns

So bugger them

Let’s change the
Nature of the game
Invent a different currency
That multiplies with every touch

As we test
And challenge
Amplify our repertoire
Arm our imagination

There’s no cap on
Insight and experience
A jackpot that pays out from
Every bout

Reconciliation

2010-10-25T21:46:00.005-04:00

Oblivious of having
Teased the porcupine

To bristle

Baited you to

Throw your quills
I’m taken by surprise

Left mute,
Making myself small,
Fearing I will

Make things worse

With equal speed the flare subsides, leaving
What?
Peace? Reunion? Grace?
Or just a blank page in this version of the past
Redacted by authority

As if it never happened

Nothing to regret, explain
Convenient
But far from reassuring
Not knowing what I did to spring the trap

I worry that I’ll be ensnared again

Remember what they say:
Those who obliterate the past are doomed to re-enact it
I’d rather study, understand, and write a better future

co-author needed—perhaps you will apply…

Day Residue

2010-10-23T21:26:00.003-04:00

Composite fragments of the
Competition
Weave a night of dreams

Random play back:
Icy seep into my sock
Shards of broken blade
The musk and funk of
Multiple bananas &
Stab of cramps that come
Regardless

Threaded in a fictionalized net of
Wishful replay
Alt endings that will
Never change the past:
The crucial parry, made in time
The final touch—on-target
A brilliant strategy un-marred by
Faulty execution

Studded with random sweet, true snapshots:
A subtle disengage, and lunge
A sneaky squirm
A deadly long attack that springs from
God knows where
Certainly not practice

Acute embarrassments
Stutter and repeat
With perfect clarity
And merciless detail

Surfacing from sleep
The story thins
Gauzy details shred and
Reambiguate

Groping for the light
My hand closes on the cold, hard
Truthful
Outcome of the day

Proof that there is hope, along with
Ample room for improvement

Covering

2010-10-11T18:39:00.001-04:00

Sternly told to stay aloft
Stay back, stay put, stay
Still, the shoulder rolls,
The hand sneaks down…
The yellow card comes out

Despite my firm intent to
Lock your gaze as I drop down
My head turns turtle & I
Lead with my thick skull instead of
Tender nose

Atavistic instincts of defense
Deeply embedded in
The neural net:
Protect the face, the belly button
Family jewels

I try to reassure my fragile parts that
All is safe, that
They can trust the jacket
Plastron, chest protector
Mask

But lack a certain
Credibility
(Evidence my stash of
Wraps, pads, braces
Bandages and tape)

So now and then they elect to deploy
Extreme defense against the
Maniacs hell bent to chase them
Down the strip
And off

They don’t give a damn for penalties, alas
So whack away! Perhaps a bruise or two will prod them to obey

A Baker's Diagnostic

2010-10-07T22:44:00.000-04:00

No nuts no spice no
Raisins, simply
Oats and sugar goodness

Smokey chocolate depths
Infused with
Alcoholic bite

Complexity
Sophisticated hints of coriander,
Cardamom and mace

Solid Americana,
Pumpkin, molasses,
Sugar = brown (of course)

Chock full o’ health
And calories: almonds, walnuts
Honey, oat bran, dates

Basic & dependable,
Chocolate chip with cinnamon
A little bit of chew

A cookie Myers-Briggs
Confronted with this plenitude
Which would you choose?

To Coach

2010-10-04T20:28:00.002-04:00

(On the occasion of Henry Harutunian’s 40th anniversary of coaching at Yale)

Balanced at the end of strip
Out of room
Out of breath
Grasping for solutions

Coming from behind
Summoning my courage
Creativity and
Resolution

Comforting myself, vowing to do
Better, Try
Harder and yet
Not beat myself up

It’s
Your voice
I hear
Cheering from the side

I owe you more than ever I can pay, and so I simply give

My thanks, and love

Reflections (after fencing 4 fifteen touch bouts)

2010-09-26T20:11:00.002-04:00

I am only happiness
When
Bliss is struggling to break
The bounds of impropriety and
Clash
With expectations

I am only bliss when
Being thrashed
With beauty and with
Grace
And sometimes can respond with
Bright riposte

I am thrashed with
Happiness
And grace when pushed so hard
My mind breaks free and
Sometimes,
Sometimes, my heart sings,
The target pierced

I rest

Threshold

2010-09-17T19:24:00.001-04:00

Each blade,
Secure within its sheath
Fold jacket, knickers, plastron
Neatly in the eager bag
(Smelling improbably sweet)
Turn the lamé inside out
And roll

Check the e-kit
Ibuprofen
Bandages and tape
Ice pack
Heat pack
More tape
Vodka

Judiciously select a jelly
(Peach)
And butter (Almond/flax)
To slather on the bread
Sequester treats
Chocolate, nuts, banana
Pack the cookie box
Stow everything secure and…

That’s it
The last things under my control

Tonight I sleep
Or not
Tomorrow night I’ll undo
All that I have done today
Unpack, wash, repair and rest

And in between? Unknowable and
Unforeseen

Too bad
You can’t cram for a competition

Genesis

2010-09-16T20:18:00.001-04:00

Salt to a wound
Sand to a pearl
Nucleus of inspiration

Sometimes, you teach,
The greatest leaps
Begin with irritation

And so you poke
And nip
And goad
To spur my education

Though you mean well
I often feel
Primarily frustration

Perhaps we could
Try adding in
Sporadic relaxation?

Pranayama

2010-09-09T22:06:00.001-04:00

One breath
Mind stills, centered on my blade
One breath
First step, entering the fray
One breath
Test, watch, dance, explore
One breath
Tease, bait—feint? Ignore…
One breath
Bounce, glide, jump forward, back
One breath
In this moment, now…attack!

Letting Go

2010-09-06T21:22:00.001-04:00

For all our plotting, planning
Practice
Earnest application
We don’t write the script
We play upon the piste

Fate dishes out surprises
Setbacks, consolations
Occasionally jewels of perfect action
Shining from a muddy bout
All the more delightful, being
Undeserved

We none of us command our victories
We tumble to them
Opening to grace
Pleasantly surprised by
What leaps out

It’s harder to appreciate
The value of defeat
Coinage in the bank of wisdom
Invested in improvement
Bearing interest only slowly, over time

And so I listen to the whiskey-rough & Jaggered voice of truth:
Bling is great, but even when I don’t get what I want
It may just be exactly what I need

Regression

2010-09-04T21:19:00.001-04:00

I’m ashamed to
Act this way
Schoolyard pettiness
Kindergarten cliques
Junior highjinks

Never quite available when
You come up to bout
Drift away to tape my blade
Upon your approach
Always on
Some other strip

All beneath my dignity
—ok, beneath my age—

But I can’t stop

I conclude it’s
Chemical
Embedded in some primal
Crevasse of my brain
We simply do not synch

Best I can manage is to cover with some
Modicum of grace
What I can’t reform

Knowing I should thank you for
This lesson on
Attachment, and aversion
The very human nature of
The pack, the herd
Sneeches seeking stars
Who’s in, who’s out

Remembering that boundaries shift—
And in the past, I’ve been the one left ghosting on the other side

S Curve

2010-09-02T18:36:00.001-04:00

I loved the
Intoxicating rush
Tumbling up the slope of progress
Burning through the letters
E, D, C
Powered by the dregs of
Youthful competence

And now…
Molasses

Each next step--
Asymptotic effort
Each teeny victory--
10x the preparation

Plot my progress:
Time at the gym, number of practice bouts…
Results at competition
Does this flattened arc
Forecast the future?
Have I banged up hard against my
Innate limitations?

My improvements come in
Geologic time
While I am faced
With biologic deadlines

I fear
No matter how I hone the knife edge
Of my skills
I’m doomed to never be the
Sharpest in the drawer
Seeking enlightenment, I’m
Simply a dim bulb when it comes to
Strategy

Can I bifurcate my mind—
Be content
Accepting life as
Perfect as it is
Even as I push myself to
Higher altitudes
However short of breath?

Now might be the time to cultivate a willful ignorance
Of calculus, of probability, of trends

And be the sort of blessed, idiotic optimist beloved of the gods

Manners

2010-08-08T17:26:00.002-04:00

Proper salutation
Not some half-assed
Bobble of the blade

Shake with true regard

Don't slap, or cringe as if avoiding

Leprosy

Hold on to the socket
Hand it to
The next one up

Extra credit: when defeated
Cheer your opponent
In their next DE

Share—snacks, chairs, credit,
Spare equipment, everything but blame
Courtesy’s embedded in the nature of our game

Psychology

2010-07-28T22:03:00.002-04:00

Anger is a chancy fuel
Posing danger of
Unregulated burn

Righteous indignation is
An awesome flare
But iffy to maintain

Unhappiness is
Water on the flame
Unlikely precondition for success

I’d rather cultivate a
Calm and eager heart, a joyous, steady conflagration
Powering my touch

So tickle me before a competition
Rather than tick me off—
Tease with gentle conundrums

Primed for laughter
Poised for combat, heedless of success
My creativity unfurls

Remind me I know
All I need to know, I need only
Get out of the way

Lulled with confidence my mind will abdicate
Responsibility, settle down
With popcorn, cheering from the side

As all the proper actions happen by themselves
Just as you say they should…

Home Base

2010-07-14T21:51:00.005-04:00

Equipment bags strategically deployed
Demarcating territory
Temporary lodgings
Tribal bivouac

Scattered sweaty fragments of our gear
Jackets draped across the chairs in the
Vain hope they will dry
Before DEs

The cookie box, proffering
Sugar courage
Consolation, solace
Well-earned rewards

Here we gravitate to trade
Encouragement, advice and news
Touch, hug, fist-bump, offer
Sympathy for unjust calls, hurrahs for victory

They strike the strips and
We decamp as well, scattering
Debris of battle
Candy wrappers, bits of tape, a crumpled list of scores

It will be bigger, better, bannered at the
Next stop upon our migratory route of competition!

How to Choose a Coach (A Dichotomous Key, in Blank Verse)

2010-07-03T20:45:00.002-04:00

A) Do you thrive and grow with:
1) Positive feedback, praise and reinforcement. If yes → American
2) Detailed explanations of the myriad ways that you fall short.→ Proceed to B

B) Do you react to pain by:
1) Stopping to rest and heal. If yes → American
2) Recognizing injury for what it is—a weakness of the will. → Proceed to C

C) Do you need:
1) words to parse what you do right, instructions to improve. If yes → American
2) or, can you deduce from foil’s twitch, a shrug, a snort, a mimicked lapse, a disapproving silence, what needs to be done? → Proceed to D

D) Do you believe that:
1) Pleasantry, the random joke or smile, a little kidding, make a lesson fun and, therefore, more effective? If yes → American
2) Niceness is insincere, therefore the enemy of the good. → Proceed to E

E) Is your reaction to a threat that bids fair to kill you (body, soul) to:
1) Run like hell. If yes → American
2) Embrace it as the path to true salvation? → Proceed to F

F) Do you accept that any good result arises from your Coach’s talent and instruction, all failure from your own deficiencies?
If yes → find yourself a Russian coach, sign in blood and brace yourself for one long, hard, painful, interesting ride.
But never say you were not warned….

In Transit

2010-07-02T18:14:00.001-04:00

Idled in security
Packing and repacking my ominous equipment
Gleeful explanations…

Obnoxious yoga at the gate
My deepest Warrior I, a wobbly Crow
Diverting restless energy

Discreetly flaunting biceps
Angling to show the
Ostentatious bruise upon my arm

On the laptop, competition video
Hoping for the question
“There, on the left, that’s me. That colored light? My touch.”

Inevitable queries
“How do you pack your swords?”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”

And (my favorite)
“You get paid for this?”
(Pause for silent laughter)

Absolutely conscious of the
Transitory glory of the world
The brevity of my bit part

I’ll play it to the hilt, while
Waiting for the action to begin

Taxonomy (continued)

2010-06-18T21:50:00.002-04:00

Diagnostic answers to the question, “whose touch?”

Mine! Didn’t you see me take the blade!?!
You missed! Remised!
I think there’s a dead spot in your lamé…

***

Yours, I do believe
I felt you take the blade
Ever so light
A very sweet parade-riposte
Well done!

***

Dunno—together?
I can’t tell
Who started first
Let’s throw it out

I ask again—where do you see yourself?

The Middle Distance

2010-06-17T20:40:00.002-04:00

I can
Sneak inside your reach
Nip you in the side
Harass you with impunity
Or,
Skip away and taunt you with
My
Inaccessibility
Receding possibility of
Your victorious attack

Split the difference?
Smack gob in the center and I’m
Dead meat
Easy target
Ice cream on a stick
Habiting the dread Bermuda triangle that
Swallows my defense
Makes me easy prey
Tattles my intent

Oblivious to when I
Cross the border to this
No-man’s land I
Suffer the delusion that I
Bob and weave
Float and glide
With matchless grace
Actually I
Hop in place
Tethered to the strip

A bouncy badger ball

Lesson learned? When
Inspiration fails
Mind blanks

Spirit flags
Score tilts in the wrong direction
If nothing else remember this one
Simple thing:

Move your badger ass!

Transmogrification

2010-06-14T21:06:00.002-04:00

Somewhere I lost myself along the way

I thought I knew my hand...
And now I don’t

My foot a strange
Random appendage
Moving on its own
Appointed path

Passing the mirror I
Catch a stranger’s glance
And look away

Have I shed memory
Habits, inhibitions
Trimmed the edges of
Identity
Whittled down to my essential self

Or am I morphing,
Unhurried transformation to
An unfamiliar form?

And, (v. important please), if the latter
Is it an improvement on my former state?

Karma

2010-06-03T21:54:00.002-04:00

I’m a bundle of
Habits and grooves

Programmed moves
Fettered by the
Sticky residue of
Ill-considered acts
Bad calls
Downfalls
Inconvenient facts

Starting clean I
Shed my shoes
Pad with pinky feet into
A fresh day
New start
Rebirth, renaissance and
Step into the
Gluey mess I fled

Petty words
Irascible verbs
Lies by omission
Losing with bad grace
Jealousy
Anxiety
Impropriety
Inflicted on my world

I need a dip in
Spiritual solvent
Soul stripper
Fate flipper
Acetone for destiny
Gotta
Break with my routine
Start clean
New regime

Epic transformation

Tabula rasa—good mission, great ambition.
Thus my petition—anybody got a rag?

Stage Fright

2010-05-28T18:06:00.002-04:00

Contemplating registration—
Competitions
Time, date, place
(& worst—the likely rating)
Puts me on edge
Cramps my shoulder
Damps my humor
Shuts my stomach down

What imbecility—
Results means nothing in the larger picture
Right?
Not life, love, income, health, security
No one but me will even give a damn
How I perform
Less impact than a
Fallen cake,
A sodden batch of dough

I’m being disingenuous.
I know exactly what this is
Recognize the tightness in my gut

It’s fear
Anticipation
I might fail, and failing, fall to meet
My secret estimation of myself

So—knowing that, what then?
It’s just psychology…intangible, correct?
Not a fleshy wound that takes its own sweet time
To heal
How long could it take to
Change a mind?
Flip a switch and make electrons course on
A new path?

If it can be done at all…
I would have to
Redefine success
Reprogram my thesaurus to cross-index to
Valiant effort
Innovation
Equanimity

It’s hard
To overwrite an eon of conditioning
Wired to demand a
4.0
98th percentile
Nothing but the best

Something to consider—you parents out there
Shepherding your kidlings to the strip
What’s the price of
Expectation? And
When will the debt come due?
Maybe decades hence

My advice—lionize a ‘failure,’ now and then.
Break out the cookies, celebrate and go home
content.

Taxonomy

2010-05-22T20:15:00.001-04:00

Epeeists—well versed in
Patience
Foreplay
-Rather bouncy-
Like to tease but
(Rarely) to commit

Sabreurs—oblivious to
Obstacles
Propriety
Bulls with china
Parading chests
(And paunches) in the salle

Foilists—entangled in
Complexities
Mind games
Recursive arguments
An excess of analysis
Head cases, every one

So, where do you see yourself?

In My Day

2010-05-16T21:01:00.001-04:00

Footwork, first and foremost
Endless lines: advance, retreat
Minutia of how to pose the
Foot, hip, knee
A hundred lunges every day

Finally! Earned by dogged patience
The privilege to hold a blade and hit…
A target
Extend, recover
Aiming at the one square inch of center
Marked in tape
‘til it felt my arm would drop

My reward for battering the
Leather square into submission?
Drills! Two on two
Precise prescriptions
Parry, riposte:
Four six seven eight
Executed without deviation
Oooo! Exotica—a circle six for spice

Finally (by grace my patience held out that long)
A bout…

Now—phfffft.
Look at this year’s crop:
Whacking at each other from the start
Blades like windmills
(reminding me of miniature golf)
Feet splay
Shoulders hunch
Butts stick out
Foils clutched like staves
Lunges like a bunny hop

I look at them and see…

Ungainly grace
Unconscious strategy, and
Joy

***
Maybe we could trade:
A little bit of my precision for
A bite of your
Naïve improvisation
Spit and shake—a deal

So, who comes out ahead?

Ars Morendi (The Art of Dying)

2010-05-04T23:44:00.001-04:00

To have no future is to accept
Living in the now
The death of habit
Abolishment of filters that
Define the world
Pull its claws and make it
Safe, predictable and sane

Leaving me
No independent moves
No pattern language
Framing what comes next

Just this moment

Unmoored, without the anchor of
My self-directed mind
I am adrift
Seeking for a deconstructed heart

Entourage

2010-04-26T19:59:00.001-04:00

I’d love to be a solitary,
Independent beast
Kipling’s cat, walking (fencing) by herself
But honesty compels me to admit…

I do better with a retinue

A minor posse: one, or two, or three
Whom I know will get my
Little fencing jokes
(Displacement to the side
Point-in-line
The badger dance of victory)

Not giving me advice
Dictating actions, strategy or time
No puppet masters
Fencing in my stead

Just a friendly voice to nudge me when I flag
Bright with confidence that
I can do
That can be enough to
Give the little lift I need to
Boost me o’er the hump

So come and watch and yell, shout out,
Stomp and clap and cheer
And I will gladly do the same for you. Hey-la!

Appreciation (Poem for Barbara)

2010-04-25T20:13:00.003-04:00

Hair white
Limbs bare of excess flesh
Crinkle at the eye’s fold
Accumulated years
And yet

You are not sweet at all

Tough, stubborn
Canny
Brave
Desiccating wit
Bearing little patience for
Fools and chatter

Dry lefty humor
Making life
As difficult as ere you can for
Supple opponents
Time and again you step up to face the
Wild and the strong
Half your age and twice your size
Resolute to
Make it count

You put me to shame…
I’ve lost only bits and pieces
You’ve shed
Wholesale chunks
Spliced together
Partially intact
You persevere
Taking up the blade
As soon as you are able
(Sooner than is wise)

I can think of worse than
Emulating your determination

Age is only wisdom…sometimes
Since you’ve got the knack, stick around and share it please
With those of us who’re yet to tread the path

Misdirection

2010-04-11T21:54:00.003-04:00

Little shards of pain
A muscle tweaked
A throbbing thumb
Even a wrinkle in the sock

Count my breath
Hum a silly tune inside my mask
Working up the scale of Fibonacci until
I lose count

When it works
Flick lands, light as feather’s touch upon your back
Parry 2 riposte, upon the very edge of your lamé
My long coupe attack completes, unmindful of your squirm

Anything to wave a shiny object

At the corner of attention

Sometimes it’s enough to

Break the hold of

Tyrant mind

Given that I cannot think and do at the same time

April Second

2010-04-02T18:11:00.003-04:00

Peanut butter in the glove
Menthol in the mask
The box reset to “sabre” every time you
Glance away
An urgent message that your car’s
Been towed

Best of all—your weapons surreptitiously
Assembled with a
shorter blade

All these glorious, wicked thoughts
Maybe it’s a good thing I stayed home last night…

Vipassana (Clear Seeing)

2010-03-29T17:07:00.002-04:00

Transitory flash
Of insight, precognition
I see your intent

***

Foot kicks forward hard
Arm hitches back, presenting
Opportunity

Into this small gap
I lunge with alacrity
Squirm, and close the line

***

Teasing you to strike
Too close for you, perfect for
Stubby badger paws

Baiting with my lunge
Drawing parry four, riposte
Hah!
My second intent…

***

Rare and precious bout—
Next time will be different
Good in its own way

But not the same…

Dukkha (Suffering)

2010-03-22T21:17:00.004-04:00

Towards the lesson’s end
“Just five more good touches, then a break”
Hah. I know you lie

Coming out of pools
Seeded lower
Than when I went in

Called onto the strip
First bout of direct elimination
Realizing that I badly need to pee

Sprinting for relief
Then seeing that the cold and smelly jacket
Has to go back on

Exhausted, reaching for my bag
Discovering that
I forgot my lunch

Finally headed home in dark and cold
Finding the directions
Don’t work in reverse

Soaking in the tub
Beer in hand, it’s over and done
Except, except
There’s video of all my bouts…which I know you know

Bind

2010-03-19T22:19:00.002-04:00

Smooth glide entangling your blade
Forte to foible
High line to low
Certain of
The whereabouts of blade…
Perfect move for a control freak
Like me

***

Hours spent
Leaping back and forth
Wrestling with weights
Sprinting ‘til I gasp
All to build the base endurance that I need
To dance upon the strip
But now…
I’m too sore and tired
To actually fence

***
And now my lovely bind--
Hey, what’s with this?!
You pivot round my blade
Fulcrum into 2 and then riposte
Gah! Traitorous momentum turned back against itself

***

What might seem the obvious solution
Taking
Bull by the horns
The direct route
No prisoners
Has drawbacks

Strength engenders problems of its own
Complaisance
Opposition
Countervailing force
Illusions of control

****

Better, maybe, sometimes to
Elide
Evade
Dodge and disengage
Sink to stillness
Rest, rejuvenate and

Let the right solution come
In its own time

Do Tell

2010-03-12T21:16:00.001-05:00

Arm hitch
Off hand twitch
Shoulder tense
…Signals of offense

Exhalation
Hesitation
Blade whack
…Predicate attack

Foot stutter
Hand flutter
Sudden halt
…Prefacing assault

Ingrained moves
Well-worn grooves
Unconsciously betray
…Make you easy prey

Solution? Simple
Better execution
Hide, or better yet
…Misguide

Flip Side

2010-03-07T21:10:00.001-05:00

Any strength
Is weakness, too
Small, fierce, stubborn
Badgerly traits that stand me in good stead when
Chips are down, my opponent 6-foot-3
And half my age

But these attributes come back to
Bite me in the bum when
The bout demands a cooler head
A slower hand
More leisured pace

Sometimes my fierce and stubborn nature sends me
Plowing down the strip
Beating on your foil
Rat-a-tat-tat machine-gun mammal
Hurling myself upon your blade
Caught up in a suicidal quest to
MAKE THE TOUCH

...breathe…
…relax…
…reset…

Let’s try this again

Gently swing into the dance of
Back and forth (using both directions, note…)
Tease and tweak and run away
Don’t be so invested in the touch that
Failure is disaster, cataclysm
Shame
Just…experiment
Give anything a try
And take delight if (by a miracle) it works
If not, then tally it as
One small piece of wisdom
Added to the store

Be a little bit less strong…
But less weak, too.
OK?

Fovea

2010-02-27T20:58:00.002-05:00

Smack
In the center of the human eye
A blind spot

Optic disc
Where nerves combine, twine,
Launch themselves en route to
Wetware,
CPU

Seems like a major
Defect of design
Dun’nit?

Except

Focusing your gaze,
While seeing nothing at the core
Expands awareness of
Peripheries
Tangential happenings

Your best perception’s sited slightly to the side
Offset
Off base
Off-center
Alert to every movement of a foot or foil
Every twitch and feint

Thus the rule:
Don’t look at your opponent’s blade
Target on his chest, his shoulder
Belly button
Where ‘er it is that you intend to hit

A universal lesson:
We’re blind to our obsessions so
Concentrate on nonessentials
Things you cannot see
And can’t control
The vital residue will take care of itself

Perpetual Recovery

2010-02-26T21:48:00.001-05:00

It’s always something

When the dinged hand heals
The foot gives out
Ice and ibuprofen do their work
And
Suddenly, the calf
Contracts into a muscled lump
Pull out The Stick and roll, and roll
Soak it in the bath
To decompress

Life’s an endless round of heating pads
And ice
Tape, orthotics and compression sleeves
Become
Vital accessories

Doling out the pills
Balancing the inflammation of my joints against
My liver’s tolerance

Staying in the game—
In the long term it’s a struggle
I know that I’m doomed to lose
But then, so are we all

For now, it will suffice to ice and dose
Massage and soak
Wrap and brace and patch

Get me to the strip and every pain’s erased by
Endorphin rush
Adrenaline
And sheer delight

Fencing one more day, or month, or year would be enough. Dayehnu!

Off Hand

2010-02-22T21:10:00.002-05:00

There’s really no good place to park it
Dangling at the waist—a smidge away from carding
Raised in a poetic arch—SO quaint
Resting on the shoulder—feeble little T-Rex paw
I’ve even seen it perched atop the mask (which looks deranged)

In Tucson, once, I fenced a gal who had none
(No off hand, that is)
Fabulous example
Of making lemonade

In this asymmetric recreation
It’s vestigial
Sure it holds the mask while you salute
Big deal
It spends the bout
A minor anchor for the arm that does the
Yeoman’s work of flinging forth the lunge
Or pulling the recovery
Once in a blue moon it shines, provides the flourish
Capping off a squirm
Mostly, like a little sister, it’s enjoined to
Stay out of the way

Worse than useless
A nuisance
Bother
Liability
Begging for a bruise
Or cut, or broken nail

Except.

In the end,
The roles reverse
Gloved hand relegated to the humble task
Of juggling mask and foil as
The off hand
Reaches out to shake

Embodying victory or, at least, good grace

Too Amped Up

2010-02-19T21:56:00.002-05:00

Slash and flick the air
Striding to the strip
You slap your leg
Snort and jump into a deep on guard

After every touch
A grunt
Or yell
Or tenor ululation

After every questionable call
A grimace of disgust
Voice raised in indignation
Arms gesture, miming what you think you did
Head shakes in despair

If I hit you (when)
There’s hell to pay
Charging down the strip
Beating at my blade with all your strength
Anything to put me in my place
Payback
Intimidation

And (here’s the kicker)
It’s just practice
What call for such testosterone-induced ferocity?
Set aside the “Y” for just a bit
Listen to your inner X and be…a mensch
If not a mentor then at least
A co-explorer of the possibilities
Within the bout
A fellow traveler who can
Celebrate what I do well and
(on rare occasions) lose with grace

Combat is not always war, ok? So call a truce, and battle me with gentle violence, calm determination. AND...DON’T...YELL.

Zero Balance

2010-02-18T20:20:00.001-05:00

High School nights—
Homework at the table
Napping like a dormouse by the fire
Bed by 9 and (shock!) a book beneath the covers

College—
Homework at the desk
(Sometimes, Sterling or Cross Campus treks)
Nodding o’er Organic Chem
Bed by 10 (no, really, it’s the truth)

No parties. No carousing
(Except a few team whoop-it-ups after
notable victories. Perhaps one all-night marathon of
D&D)

Fast forward thirty years.
Now deep night is when I’m
Warm and loose
Awake
Alert
Ready to engage

10 o’clock and I’m just started
Looking for the eight bout, or the ninth
Prepped to shed my lamé and my cord
Bracing for a lesson that will
Push me to the brink
1 am and I am virtuously tumbling into bed.
(Well, except when I am late)

The debt comes due at dawn
Up at six to stretch and start the complicated dance
Of food and pets and poop and papers
Planning for the day

Now, now I want to draw on that account
At least eight years of copious banked sleep
Plus interest
Confident it holds enough to cover my extravagant
Expenditures of time, and find it
Empty
Vacant
Spent

What gives? Who stole my
Safety net
Drained my savings
Left me
Broke?

So much for thrift

The lesson? While you’re young and have endurance
Blow the wad—don’t save it for your later years

Rest isn’t like a Twinkie, it won’t keep for decades ‘til you
Need emergency supplies

Silent Teaching

2010-02-17T21:29:00.002-05:00

How can I explain
What lives, imperfectly
Encoded in synapse, muscle, bone?

Words fail

“The lunge is thus
The arm extends, just so
The knee remains above the toe”

I fumble to explain

Language is a feeble conduit
My blade conveys much more than nouns and verbs
Your eyes can hear much more than I can speak

This, this action, tension, angle, spring

Just watch
Let lessons sink into the mirror of your mind
Transmute into memory of acts that were not yours

But could have been, and will be in a future past
When you surpass me with your graceful acts

Trust

2010-02-01T20:49:00.001-05:00

Is an act of will
Not faith
Based not on conviction
That you will care for me, keep me from harm
But certainty you won’t

Trust is walking on live coals
Juggling fire
Swallowing words
Like honed swords

These are not domesticated threats
They burn, or slice
It is their nature
Just as it’s the nature of the world to wound

And so I trust
Knowing that if not this time then the next
The flame will bite, the blade pierce…
You will lash out
That’s why we callous, to withstand
The heat and lanciation of
People
Being who they are
Consistent in their imperfection