This is a poem I've been thinking about for a long time, and it exploded out of my head. There's more on the end and I really don't feel it's complete, but I was assured that this is as fine an ending as any . . . if you feel differently, tell me, and I'll see if I can continue it without destroying its utter coolness. Rhythym wise, it's one of my most favorite things I've ever written . . . try reading it out loud, it's really cool. Subject wise, I was ecstatic at the fact that something UN-ANGST RIDDEN came out of my head and didn't suck. It's about jazz. And fencing. Perhaps my two favorite things to do . . .

Sword of Jazz is Life

it's the beat

it's the rhythym

it's the sound of your soul

lose your mind

lose your sight

let your heart take control

cool. calm. perceptive. attack.

clashing blades

whirling limbs

endless dance of the feet

playful here

spiteful there

spring back jump forth meet

smooth. soulful. randomized. go.

snapping fingers

clapping hands

keeping track of what goes

chords of joy

chords of tears

reflecting what's most

Argh, the goddamn fucking piece of shit editing on the stupid site won't let me put in the proper spaces - when it goes to the four words, there's supposed to be a space. Makes the rhythym stand out more. twitch damn you, internet. I bolded it instead . . . piece of shit . . .