Thread: A Silly Poem
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Old 10-18-2003, 09:41 AM   #56
markwalsh
Dojo: Airenjuku Brighton
Location: On the road - UK
Join Date: Jul 2003
Posts: 514
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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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