Resolved

To sometimes

Let myself sleep late 
Linger under covers 
Pinned by cat

Skip the gym
And soak my aching
Bones instead

Break from bouts
Lay down the blade
And chat 

Eat a second slice of cake
Drink hot chocolate even if it
Doesn’t snow

Leave an item on the daily list 
Unchecked 
Maybe even two

Exercise a bit of 
self-compassion trusting that
the world won’t end 

No Show

“Dear Fencer, I am writing to ask if you will answer a survey about why people don’t show up for competitions they have preregistered for…”

Dear Fred

You ask what happened

Truth is,

I overslept

Last night the cat was sick 

She puked all night

I had to

Rush her to the vet

Another time, my car—the battery was dead

Or, on the road, an accident clogged up the pike

And there I sat, when

Registration closed

The furnace died, pipes burst the

Toilet is backed up the workmen said he’d come

(and didn’t show)

An inauspicious stain is creeping

Down the wall

I woke up a fever

Ancient injuries flared up

Loading my equipment to the car I

Threw out my back

The editor turned back my manuscript last night and

Asked for cuts

By first thing Monday,

‘Natch

In short

Life happened

That’s all, just

Life

A Feline View of Fencing

Springs skitter

Alluringly across the floor to

Hide in cracks

Wire flips and twines and twirls

And tempts

Tape

Tastes like bubble gum, and

Salt

Shoelaces

Dragging back and forth in

Mousey patterns

This bag

Dark and deep, smells like

Laundry, and laps

Altogether, I approve

If only you weren’t gone so often, and so long

Depriving me of these lovely toys

The Feline Fencer, Part II

(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 Feline Fencer

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

Soundscape II*

Thrum of feline happiness
Whine and strain of mixer’s motor
paddle mired in resilient dough
Muted tidal slosh of laundry coming clean
Ticking of the oven, hoarding heat

Lyric play of blade on blade
Sing of wire threading through the barrel
Resonating thwock of perfect, centered touch
upon the target, drumming on the wall
Clatter of the blades inside my bag, knocking at my hip
Silent slice of wind against my ears
Stepping out into the darkling night
*See Soundscape

Guru (Dispelling Shadows)

Floundering about
In search of, what?
Stability
     A feeling of the world beneath my feet
     Shifting in predictable procession, not
     Seismic leaps
Insight
     Some faint perception of
     Habitual patterns
     The consequences of my acts
Compassion
     For concentric circles of all living things
     Impinging on my world
     And (hardest of all) myself

Humph. Fifty years of going it alone and not much change

Books, and lectures, theories, books and books
At last, I’m driven to concede
Despite my dogged independence
I need a teacher

Not out in the world
But centered in my heart
Who knows my inner darkness, stratagems, evasions
Sees thru my feline pretense of “I meant it to come out that way”
Won’t let me glide past problems with my clever words
Gently merciless, relentless
Accepting no excuses
Believing that I give my best
And firmly asking more

And look,
Despite my lack of faith
The world sends me what I need

Be careful what you wish for….
Growing pains are hell