Gate of Heavenly Peace

Gate of Heavenly Peace

The light of the screen flickered across my face
My young impressionable eight year old mind
Gazing there upon that screen
I saw a man totally consigned.

The Unknown Rebel stood there still
Halting all their military might
Stopping them dead with only his will
Standing to fight the good fight.

Watching this symbol of protest
Standing solemnly in the square
There is no way I could have known
Of the girl who lived near there.

Eighteen years later I stood in that square
That hot July day under an azure sky
In a country that once seemed so far away
Now seen through another’s eyes.

We walked there happily hand in hand
Around a monument to heroes who had to fight
And she told me of her time near there
With shots heard ringing through the night.

Her long black hair flowed so freely
In a gentle summer’s kiss
How had we come to find each other
Enraptured in our euphoric bliss.

I still think of that tank man today
One lone man taking a stand
And how we all eventually come full circle
No matter how well our life is planned.

A little horrible poetry

Mirror

I stood and stared and saw myself
But what I saw was not me
It was not the self I had come to know
But was the self I’d came to see.

I paused and looked and saw her there
Lying on the cold tiled floor
Wiping her blood from my cheek
I raised the axe once more.

I chopped and cleaved and carved her up
Her head rolled by the door
I saw her lifeless eyes stare at me
Saying she was my wife no more.

Speckled there upon my face
Crimson droplets ran their course
Emerging from the once white lace
Which will forever adorn her corpse.

My madness left, the realisation came
I hated what I had become
I saw the pieces of my beloved
And I knew what I had done.

She ran and fled to another man
What anger drove her from my bed
I picked up my axe in a rage
And then removed her head.

I stood and stared and saw myself
But what I saw was not me
It was not the self I had come to know
But the monster I’d come to be.

Kato Sensei Comes Again

It was St. Patrick's weekend and despite the harsh winds and flurries of snow, people from all over the country descended on Tuam to attend a seminar with Shihan Kato (8th Dan). Some brave souls from England decided to undertake the journey across the water to the wild west of Ireland. They drove all night and then came straight into the dojo for training. Their dedication to the cause had to be commended. Sensei started off the Saturday morning training by teaching a special class just for children. He guided them through the basics of karate and corrected their postures and positioning.

The second class began at the end of the children's class and training began with some kihon exercises using some often neglected stances from karate such as sanchin dachi, musubi dachi, uchi-hachiji dachi and heisoku dachi. After various exercises focusing on the correct use of the body in punching from these stances, Kato Sensei went on to instruct us in the proper use of the hips and feet when trying to move forward and backwards with a hip thrusting motion. Next we moved on to the kata Rantai, which involves a myriad of leg techniques and unique foot work and proved to be quite a challenge. After going through various sections of the kata it was all put together and performed several times. This marked the end of the first day or training and the start of the celebrations of St. Patrick's day. A very enjoyable evening was had by all. Familiar faces got together and resumed where they had left off and new friends were made.

Sunday morning training began as the previous day had left off with the black belts performing Rantai. After instructing us on some of the finer points of the kata, Kato Sensei taught us the applications and we practiced them with partners. In doing the kata really became alive and each time the kata was performed we were able to visualize what we were doing and why. At the end of the hour the junior grades joined the class and each one was given a black belt to practice with. Kato Sensei showed them different foot movements to close down a variety of distances when sparring with an opponent and then allowed them to practice this with their partner. Kato Sensei then taught them how to use these foot movements in conjunction with kicks with each juniors grade aided by their partner. The class was then broken up and the appropriate level of kata was taught to the relevant grades. The class then finished and one member of the Sei Bu Kan dojo in Cork city successfully graded to shodan.

The feedback from the weekend was very positive and everyone seemed to have had a great time and enjoyed the training and getting together on this Irish holiday. I would like to thank Kato Sensei for coming to my home town and sharing his karate with us, Sensei Brian Toomey for all his help and support on the weekend and everyone at Tuam Karate Club for all their help during the weekend.
Osu!

Choices

Someone asked me recently why it is I am making the choices that I have made. To do the difficult thing and leave all I know and love behind. To make the changes that I am making and to go to the places that I intend to go; perhaps never to return. I tried to answer the questions they put forth to me, but my answers were not sufficient. It was this evening, at this very late hour of 4:22am that I stumbled across the work of the slam poet Big Poppa E. There was one poem which caught my attention and held me spellbound as he read it out. I listen to it. Then I listened to it again and then again. It held the answer that I wanted to give. It captures the way I feel about life and better yet…the way to live it. And so I present that poem here so that I can look upon it every day and when next sometime asks me why I have made such a choice, I will point and let them read.

Scars, Part Two

By Big Poppa E

There comes a time in every kid’s life when they must be allowed to discover this truth: the plumpest berries are in the very heart of the sticker bush. It’s the scratches that make them sweeter.

A Me without scars is evidence of a life unlived.

No one can tell you the stove is hot, you must be allowed to touch it. Children protected from playing in the dirt grow into sick adults unable to fight simple infections. Parents can’t possibly redeem themselves for past bad choices by forcing their children into closets for safety, this will only make them blind and afraid and vulnerable and it will make them hate you.

Give me a life full of rope burns and splinters and heart-felt advice I’m allowed to ignore. Give me shins scraped by pavement and cracked front teeth and elbows bloodied into stories worth telling. Then bury me in the ground bruised and imperfect with skin tattooed by a life well earned, well-lived, etched with cautionary tales, drenched with tears and laughter. Every mistake, every stumble, every lesson reflected in my defiant smile.

At the end of my life, the last thing I want to see is a long series of safe choices and measured steps. Give me instead a life filled with triumphs, fuelled by countless lovely missteps and wonderfully painful bad choices. Please God, please let my last dying breath be scented with gentle regret for things I had the courage to try and none for the things I dared not do.

I have learned so much and still I have skin left untouched. I still have work to do, I still have life to live.

The only lessons worth learning are the ones that leave a mark.

To listen to this piece as it should be read I point you to the poet himself, as he brings his passion and defiance into every word. Click here to here to listen.

To find out more about Big Poppa E and his work go to his website: www.bigpoppae.com

One Perfect Day

I sat on the stone wall that separated our garden from the field at the back of our house. It was July and I was about thirteen years old. I let my feet dangle loosely over the edge of the wall and I closed my eyes and felt the warm rays of the sun bathe my face. A gentle summer breeze blew the warm summer air against it. I opened my eyes and looked out across the golden field and listened as the breeze made the long grass rustle. I remember it was especially silent that day. There were no cars rushing past on the main road, no lawnmowers trimming the grass and no loud screams of other children playing in their gardens. There was just me, sitting on that wall, on that fantastic day. There was nothing special about that day, nothing wondrous or amazing happened and yet thirteen years later I can still close my eyes and feel that same warmth and hear that rustling sound. I remember sitting on that warm stone wall and thinking this was perfection. I felt so relaxed and so happy. I choose at that moment to remember it forever. Whenever things get on top of me I can always go back to that special time and remember the things which are important to me. All I have to do is close my eyes.

I am not sure what compelled me to write this but I feel all the more relaxed for doing so. Everyone needs that special place for themselves, their own private space. That space that while you can tell others about, they can never join you. For that place is yours and yours alone. A place where you can go and forget about all the inconsequential details that bog us down in our day to day existence and concentrate on what is really important for you. For me it is that one perfect day.

If indeed there exists an afterlife, and it was different for all of us, then I would choose to be sitting on that wall again, without a care in the world, feeling the warmth of the sun and listening to the rustling grass. That would be my heaven. My perfect day.