Sunday, February 24, 2013

Third Place


("Third place" in the sense coined by sociologist Ray Oldenberg to refer to spaces--not work, not home--where we connect with others, known and unknown, bond over shared interests and forge community.)

Lending patient sympathy to woes of
Injury
Indignities of age
(youth and geezerhood—each have their tribulations)

Helping to untangle cords,
Straighten a blade
Test a bad connection
Lend a pair of socks

Finding one good thing
To compliment
Amongst the countless blunders
In our bout

Overlooking flares of peevishness
Respecting fallibility, recognizing it as
Common currency
Of practice

This is what we do, each of us for each
As clubmates, teammates, sometimes even friends

People find their families where they can
Chance-met assemblages of
Common cause
At home, at work, at play

The ferrous kinship of the blade,
Formed in the salle, is strangest yet
But forged in kindness
Even-tempered, strong, forgiving of our flaws

Monday, February 18, 2013

Lessoning


An errant twitch could mean I erred
Or not
***
You interrupt your charge to turn, and curse
Did I mess up…
Or did you tweak your back?
***
Once wrong, twice wrong
Damn autocorrect
You knew I’d go too far
The other way
The third time ‘round
***
I don’t give you lip
But my mute outrage
Reeks of skepticism
‘til you penetrate my guard and
Prove your point
***
This is my revenge:
My sincere look of utter disbelief when
Something that we practice
Works
And scores the touch

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Carding


A rainbow spread of
Serial transgression

The cheery yellow flag of
Minor sins:
The blade that won’t
Hold weight
The cord unblessed by armorer, the
The hand carelessly strayed into
Forbidden ground
Absconding from the strip
Without a pass
Silken locks burst loose and
Tumbling down the back

The rosy blush of shame for
Greater gaffes:
Grasping at the blade as it collides with hand
Faking cramps
Lurking in anonymity, lamé conspicuously
Blank
Innocently shutting down opponent’s march by
Timing out…the floor
Raking in the dough by advertising Badger Balm
Upon the sleeve (I wish)
Delivering a bell guard to the snoot
(No matter how provoked)

And Blackest Black, Beyond the Pale—the Deepest Dark of Night:
Sneaking a mic into
The mask
Balking at a foe too loathsome to
Endure
Throwing the game
Withholding courtesy
Trying to cause harm

The system generously grants penance to
Bystanders needing grace as well:
Continued catcalls,
Obstreperous support or
(Ignoring reprimand)
Repeated hassling of the ref

All these penalties comprise
A winning hand
Tucked into blazer pocket
Ready to deploy
Elevating our authorities above the
Hoi polloi

Nostalgia


Brown bread smells like loam, like
Beer
Like garden mulch

Pumpernickel’s sour snap
Waits for mustard bite

Rye’s seedy strength, bearing up the
Fatty weight of beef

Dense focaccial spring
Olive-studded
Thick with cheese

Dour Russian black bread begs for
Sweet butter, thinly spread
Radish slices, salt

Supple silken warmth of fresh tortilla
Dunked in guac

Sugared crisp of fruit-nut bread
Thinly sliced in toasted bliss

Even pita’s cardboard mimicry

Flood my recollection with each step
Down the bakery aisle

Past the cornucopian cases
Breathing deep of wheat

Condemned to timid crumble, unsupported loft
I devour the past

Monday, December 31, 2012

Telling Tales


Truth is fabricated
Piece by piece
From scraps of probability
Hints of what is possible
Plausible causality

“Truth be told” indeed
Telling forges truth
The facts we choose, the details we
Discard

Especially the tales we
Weave about ourselves
Bespoke epics
Contingent facts looped into
Cogent narrative
Forging our own fates

Since I get to storyboard my life
Why be content with mundane imperfection?
Why not lineate myself
As gimpy hero
Hephaestus or
Bellerophon
Lamed by my ambitions
Still in quest of
Small but epic feats?

Knowing this, I start my journal of 2013, writing future states that
I’ll be happy to have seen

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Close Call, Part 1

It's the art of

Seeing the periphery, the center
And the trailing edge
Hand and tip and wrist and
Toe

Knowing with bone certainty 
Exactly what transpired 
Without knowing how you 
Know