• October 14, 2010

More You Than You Know What To Do With

Once you open that tap,
Beat the rust off
and crank the stream to full,
you can’t stop it again.

Images, feelings, beats keep coming
until you’ve got no place to put them.

I’ll take that flood over the drought.
Unlock yourself until you’ve got
more you than you know what to do with.

  • October 03, 2010

Wasps

Panics have built a nest
outside my bedroom window.
I watch as little panics
come and go, building their panic
nest ever bigger, somewhere close
but completely out of sight.
Waging war against these panics
fell short of actual conquest.
And the sweet summer breeze
kept my window open and
the panics nearby.
I hate and love
those horrible panics,
and our shaky truce.
Them on their side
and me on mine.
If a panic touches me, I will probably die.
  • August 08, 2010

Bodies Moving Bodies

I told a Hapkido master:
“It’s nothing more than dance
Bodies moving bodies
in and through a rhythmic stance.
I shift my weight
then you shift yours
And step in time
Across the floor.
It’s nothing more than dance.”

I told a Lindy Hopper:
“All you do is step and go.
Bodies moving bodies,
Balance soaring in a giant throw.
I shift my weight
and you must shift yours.
Then lay you out
Across the floor.
All you do is move.”

My blue belt testing last weekend was a great reward for hard work in both body and mind, the hardest of which is mind.  The doing is something I can do, the workout, the strain, the figuring out.  But the keeping calm, the focus inward, keeping the pace deliberate and clear – that’s been the struggle.  But the experience last weekend was positive and exhausting.  I feel good about the work I did and I’m ready to meet all the new members when they arrive at the end of the month.

Beautiful photos taken by Lisa Donaldson, a fellow dancer and Hapkido warrior.

  • February 22, 2010

Secrets on the Floor

What is within must be without.
All that is within must now come out,
Like a happy dagger across the naval,
Spill everything out.  Now
All your secrets are on the floor.

Dance with passion and abandon.
Stomp stomp and move in the moment.
Take your steps to move in time
and move in close.  Now
All your secrets are on the floor.

No hiding now, ladies.
No hiding now, men.
If you’re moved, so move me too.
This is not a quiet game
Stomp stomp and now let me hear you.

  • February 22, 2010

Brushing Against Truth

I often think to myself that I don’t write poetry.  Then I realize I do.  It’s more… prosetry, though.

I have a fantasy that
my psychological disorder
is me brushing
against truth.  Gasping
for air.  The pain
of birth.  The shock
of being awoken by
a scream.

The terrible things I know in those screaming, sobbing, broken shards of time is the truth and sanity is the distraction from it.

  • October 04, 2009

Nox

What sort of someone is a Nox?
He lives timeless lives with inky eyes.
Smoke.
Trusty rusty about my mother’s business.