"musashi" poems
I.
*“You can only fight the way you practice”
― Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of Five Rings: The Classic Guide to Strategy*
His lessons started late
As always, and as always
What is thrown is a question
You grip tightly
around your fingers
as one would,
as one always should.
With a branch he beckons:
“Come” he asks,
*“if a stick is struck from this angle,
what would your answer be?”*
Always, the old man taught
With each strike, each parry,
Each disarm and lock,
Each time my knuckles
Would hurt. This way
he makes it sure
that my body
remembers.
This is always
the first step.
My mind might forget.
But the body
Remembers.
II.
*“It is difficult to realize the true Way just through sword-fencing. Know the smallest things and the biggest things, the shallowest things and the deepest things.”
― Miyamoto Musashi, The Book of Five Rings: Miyamoto Musashi*
With him, everything starts
The vague quality of nonwords
Taught from pain, simplified
Through science:
the fulcrum and the lever.
Each joint, each turn,
a pattern to comprehend,
all things work in context:
*A framework of the undeniable
Fact:*
*the world is separate
In only these two words:*
Taub at Tihaya
The colloquial words for
Face down and face up;
This is a pattern
of the body.
III.
*“If you wish to control others you must first control yourself”
― Miyamoto Musashi, A Book of Five Rings: The Classic Guide to Strategy*
Tihaya
The lesson starts
When he presses
His thumb forward
to a hand asking for alms
like turning a doorknob
too far to the right.
Taub
when I pull back
four fingers
on a giving hand
too far to what is left.
these are the means
for control.
When I know
How much is necessary
To push or to pull,
To teach or to break.
- 18 October 2017
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 5:57 AM UTC
Now for those that don't know
I'm a huge fan of ninjas
From cyberpunks like Hiryu and Jago
I guess my subconscious is linked to them
These warriors in the wind
From Sheik to Smoke
Ermac's telekinetic choke
Ryu Hyabusa to scorpion
subzero to Joe Musashi
These warriors in the wind
are part of what defines me
Raven and Yoshimitsu
I'm nowhere near the ability or agility of a ninja
Ninjutsu probably would end up being the tool of my demise.
I may never reach the skill of a ninja
but that doesn't mean I won't try
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
On my ship, I set sail,
To where Musashi had failed,
In search of a spot to rest my head
Upon a foreign seabed.
As I leave the city port
I cast my eyes homeward in farewell
And catch a glimpse upon a cliff
Of a canvas on an easel.
Perched upon a little chair,
I spot a girl with paint at hand,
Who takes a pause to watch the sea
Part and mend at my hull’s command.
I crease my sailor cap and raise it high,
And wave to her as I pass by.
She returns to me a gentle stare
And dips her brush in paint with care.
My wandering eye is now affixed
Upon the glow of this fading girl
Whose eyes meet mine for brief moments
To watch my fleeting goodbye unfurl.
Who does she see, from on that cliff?
What boy will she now paint?
Will she remember how I look?
Or keep my features vague and faint?
Her cliff now sinks beneath the sea
To rise again, from under me,
As this ship goes from trough to crest,
Riding waves for seas southwest.
The waves now pull me off, adrift,
To oceans foreign, to currents stiff,
Trapped within the torrent’s pull
Where a storm awaits in full.
I wonder when she turns to the sea
Does the breeze redden the skin of her cheeks?
Does she watch the rolling clouds
Blend with the white of the crashing tide
And find herself somewhat resigned
To a deepening sadness trapped inside?
How will she remember me?
What will that painting look like when it is done?
How long will she think of the boy floating away
On a sailing ship set toward the sun?
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC