Thaw

All the lovely words I ache to use

—grip and finny, plangent,

Snout

Elastic

Importune

Enarctic, absolute

Byzant—

Flee

Embargoed, subject to my

Inarticulation

Used to be

Words bottlenecked inside

—As blade leapt and feet patterned

Faster than the conscious mind can ken—

Spilled forth late at night when

Dried from sweat and

Drenched with images

I’d channel on the page

The residue of dreams

Inspirations that upon the strip

Fall short

Trying to capture them with

Syllambolic grace

Synoptic brevity

Since I’ve gone lame, that

Well’s run dry

Phrases cramp and tangle in my brain

Fail beneath my weight

My lagging foot has

Dragged my measure down,

Undermined my

Métier

Gimped my game

My hand and foot are yoked in their dysfunction

Mute, I’ve slaved at patient repetition

Labored to rebuild the

Tendoned scaffold of my lunge

Drill minute adjustments to the pitch and weight and

Slant of step and shift

Strive to rediscovery thoughtless ease

But last night, gingerly untangling my brace

Applying ice, assessing the resentment of my knee

My eyes were captured by the

Ferritopic cut and slash

The sabre bums employ

Their ranting stutter stamp and

Shout

Their embered arguments

I scrabbled in my bag for pad and pen

Recovery is marked by such small steps as these

Doctrine

Somewhere deep within lies

Certainty that damage comes from sin

Well. Maybe that's too harsh

That injury is outward manifest of

Inward flaws

Each tear, each stitch a

Measure of the gap between

My ego and my tiny universal role

In this thesis

Healing equals

Absolution

Therapeutic grace

Concrete proof that

Nothing is beyond

Forgiveness

Redemption promises I can be

Mended and made whole,

and strong

With patience and

Humility

And penance in the gym

Benediction is when

All the pieces work

Bladeyard

Each fragment holds a story, frozen in the moment it gave way

Damaged in defense

Assassinated in assault

Tip snapped

Forte fractured

Foible frozen in a baneful bend

This ferric archive, weighty

Evidence of effort,

A metal count more meaningful than

Competition bling

I can't throw them away

Feeling too much empathy

Gratitude for touches they amassed

Conscious that

We all of us are

broken by our art 

Domino Effect

Consequences

Ripple down through time

Lapping at a future shore

Shifting pebbled memories

Nothing's ever done and gone

No problem truly solved

No trauma healed

Excision leaves a hollow to be filled

Stitches yield a scar,

Even faded bruises make us flinch

From shadowed harm

I fear

The best we can achieve is

Swapping cozy suffering for

Bright new pain, shiny with the gloss

At least, of novelty

Renewing hope of conquest

Resolution

Victory

Cessation

Health

Knowing this, I've learned to moderate my expectations

Temporary strength is but prelude to descendant tribulations 

Birthday Thoughts

I don’t want to wish you
Too much joy
Because I hope the aggravation we
Inflict will earn you
Compound karmic interest, redeemable in
Your next incarnation
Swapped for future students
Who will be
Alert, attentive
(Let’s shoot for the moon) respectful
All the things that
We are not
Meanwhile (sorry coach)
I am afraid
You’ll have to make the best
Of who you’ve got

Collaboration

An experiment in crowdsourced poetry. Add the next line in the comment section, below, building on other's contributions. Writer's block? Try beer. Or dark chocolate. Whatever works.


Limber, lithe, languorous and just a little louche

Doubt

Sunlight

Lumens every lump and wrinkle of

My practice

Lucidates my fears

The ruthless dawn

Encourages anxieties to

Chat me up at breakfast

Intimating that

If I were really

Always getting better, I'd be

Really good

By now

Even incremental progress would

Add up (they hint) and

Reach, at last, a

Tidy sum

From there, it's not too far to wonder

How much of my progress is

Illusion, clever sleight of

Coaching hand?

How much adept

Self-deception

Redefining goals and

Grading on a shifting curve?

I'm saved, at last, by dusk:

With moonrise inhibitions fall

And optimism swells

The kindly dark obscures my flaws

The gloom of pessimism makes it  hard to keep my goals in sight

That's why I pursue my praxis in the night

Summer Practice

Sweat exceeds the common sodden quota

Even my stodgy non-electric bib

Conducts

Socks creep down

Knickers giving way to shorts (the heat

More painful than the prospect of a bruise or two)

An increase in aestival truancy

Teammates disappear and re-emerge

Skin a searing bronze against their laundered uniforms

We horse around with silly moves unlikely to

Succeed in competition

But then again…they might

Lazy nights that end in talk of

Nothing much

Conversations I will treasure, and forget