Epiphany

So much force
Ending in such
Delicate assault

Arcing over parries rendered moot
Aiming at the sky yet
Homing in on target, sight unseen

Forging a quantum blade that is both
Here
and there

Establishing the virtues of an
Indirect approach

Lessoning on this
--Suspending disbelief--
I realize that 
Flicking is as close to faith as
I may ever know

Priorities

Contemplating what went right, or wrong 
Concentrate all the things that worked 


Choosing between mastering arms, or legs 
Focus on the feet 


Faced with thinking of the start, or end 
Rivet on beginning right


Better yet, don't think

Death Grip

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

The Butt First Lunge (© RFA)

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

Soft Start

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

Closed Line

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

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

Theory and Practice

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?

Robots

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!

Pranayama

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!

Do Tell

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

Kaizen (改 善—Small Improvements)

Little steps, balanced forth
And back, keeping options open
Ready to explode

Feint and run away
Teasing you to push and charge
Hah! Counterattack

You can push, and push
Good! I pull distance, beat, deceive
Parry and riposte

You make touch against
Now I know what you will do
Here—try it again…

Incremental change
Subtle transformation, not
Metamorphosis

I can live with that--
Each instar a bit improved
It will be enough

Right of Way

(Gained/Lost)

The merest tap of blade
               A hint of hesitation
Unfolding of the arm
              A moment’s deviation
A stable point in line
              The slightest vacillation
A steadiness of mind
              A whiff of desperation
Beat, hold, take, act
             Waffle, hitch, counterattack