Some time ago, I studied martial arts.
Long Fist. A choreography for one,
Of balance, strength, and form, in sev'ral parts;
But only half -- the piece that's left undone
Is all in triggers. Certain types of blows,
Or threats, or combinations of a few,
Will set in motion all the artist knows:
A brutal choreography for two.
Two years since separating from my wife
I started down an odd, quixotic road
To pull some thoughts together on my life,
And maybe even somehow, to decode
The triggers and mistakes that took me there.
And balance, strength, and form were all I had
To capture darkness, hopefulness, or prayer,
In words, to stop me slowly going mad.
Now, having seen the anger dissipate,
The form has started changing, and begun
To shape a half a dance; to dedicate
A space for an intruder; to create
A metered art of something yet undone:
Another choreography for one.


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Comments
To capture darkness, hopefulness, or prayer,
In words, to stop me slowly going mad." - This is rich.
so much of it lies in waiting.
Apart from iambic pentameter I think it's the hardest thing of all.
A space for an intruder; to create"
Time does heal, doesn't it DB?
(This reminded me of the Jackie Chan movie poem.)
And now we watch you take new steps … dance again.
Keep dancing DB! This poetry fu
Is such a special thing to see, my friend.
Your new inspiration is making wonderful poetry ...
The form has started changing, and begun
To shape a half a dance; to dedicate
A space for an intruder; to create
A metered art of something yet undone:
Another choreography for one."
these are images that would make a heart glad, how beautifully expressed
I love where this seems to be headed...
Thank you all.