The Bo

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about how my practicing with the Bo-staff has been an excellent form of meditation and relaxation. Not one of my best pieces but I still felt like it deserved to be mentioned.

Submitted: January 08, 2012

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Submitted: January 08, 2012

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Twirling, spinning, striking blows,

Downwards, upwards, sideways comes the mighty bo,

All my work is not for show,

But to free my mind and expand what I know.

 

Every muscle comes alive, 

Nueral impulses fire and thrive,

Adrenaline flows as if i need to survive,

And I strive for the high of being truly alive.

 

The six foot staff is a another part of me, 

It's flesh and bone, blood and artery,

More than a tool, my heart more than it's battery, 

My control is praised, but I don't desire flattery. 

 

And as it ends and my body winds down,

My muscles groan, and there's enough sweat to drown,

My chest heaves as I draw air down,

But my mind is free, so I smile and not frown. 

 


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