Unconquerable

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

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

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

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

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)

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

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

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

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

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…