Wow,
Really enjoying this thread. Thought I'd share a couple. The first was written as part of a psychology dissertation on aikido, and the second after witnessing a particularly elegant instructor.
IMHO Japanese poetry is the most refined in the world. I would recommend the book "100 Poems from the Japanese", "Japanese Death Poems" and any haiku by Buson/Issa to anyone interested in beauty.
Interestingly I've heard it said that English is good for poetry because of its huge vocabulary, while Japanese is good for the opposite reason. Not sure if this is true though.
10 Things Aikido Is To Me
Grace.
A healing, a reclamation;
prizing land back from the sea,
wringing the salt out of it and making it fertile again.
Growing food and flowers on the land
just because you can.
A necessary descent into hell.
The artistic roll and flow of nature.
A beautiful woman untying her hair
and it falling down her back.
Two people who really want to kiss each other,
kissing.
A days work. A man's back.
A sincere apology, no explanations.
Absolute zero.
The second most fun you can have with your friends.
The essence of things.
Nothing extra.
Inevitability.
The arms of whatever you believe in
holding you as an infant.
Home:
Not what the word means to you now;
because all that stuff isn't important;
but what it means in the womb and in death.
A way of being all the opposites at once.
Getting away with being yourself,
in spite of what you've been told is possible.
Just being.
Not having to do a proper dissertation.
Dolphin
The dolphin dives into class.
Bows as if
on a desert day
dipping her head in cool water.
Leaps up to practice ukemi;
like a silk ribbon
on a tai-chi master's sword;
rides the air
on of Monet's brush.
Rises seemingly,
from under the mat,
- a inquisitive shoot in Spring.
She takes a partner playful,
blue eyes dance hide and seek.
Honoured you can do little more than stare.
Connects
elusive;
as a tap on the shoulder from a ninja;
but firm,
as an oak's grip on the sky,
or a carpenters handshake.
She summersaults again and again,
turning crescent smile shapes around,
twists umbilical,
explodes as an opening tiger paw,
lays waste to elegance
swimming anvil ballets,
- you don't push against the Pacific.
You feel like a dumb ox
being led home feline.
Water claws break over you,
clean your eyes
and leave you gasping
on a beach at the end of class,
raising your head from the water.
Mark
http://thewalsh.com/aikido.html
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