Song of Judoani012b Judo: Poetry in Motion

by Kyuzo Mifune (written in 1952, published for the 1964 Olympics)

In time of practice, without distraction,
Light in heart and light in limb,
Let us endeavor with full attention,
To concentrate our mind within.
clear Judo: Poetry in Motion This is the genuine way of Judo,
clear Judo: Poetry in Motion This is the genuine way of Judo.

Trained through practice to perfection,
Skilled in the art to rise and fall,
Let us enter the way of salvation,
Freely moving about like a ball.
clear Judo: Poetry in Motion This is the genuine way of Judo,
clear Judo: Poetry in Motion This is the genuine way of Judo.

The way of Judo knows no bound,
The mild of heart no enmity,
Let us, all nations hand in hand,
Build the ideal of amity.
clear Judo: Poetry in Motion This is the genuine way of Judo,
clear Judo: Poetry in Motion This is the genuine way of Judo.

judoka Judo: Poetry in Motion

Judo Haikuani012b Judo: Poetry in Motion

by K. Pak
Windsor, ON, Canada

Windmill sweep uke
Falls like cherry blossom
Tossed by the wind

One heartbeat careful
Turning around upside down
Crushed like careless snow

judoka Judo: Poetry in Motion

My Sister is a Black Belt

by Laura Asbridge (age 11)
Kobayashi Kwai Judo Club (Carlisle UK), 2001

My sister is a black-belt,
She throws me ’round the room.
I do not think you’ve ever felt,
Such a sense of doom.
For when she walks onto the mat,
Everyone goes quiet.
She prowls around like a cat,
And starts a great big riot.
The red belts cower on the side,
Like timid little mice.
But when she’s back at home inside,
She’s actually quite nice.

judoka Judo: Poetry in Motion

Camp Kodokan

by Linda Gibson
Encino Judo Club, (California USA) 1979

Fighting Judoka dressed in white
Throwing bodies left and right
Trained to work in heat and sweat
Aches and pains are all we get

Morning runs and awful food
Sweaty gis and cabins crude
Back at home we ache and groan
And try to ease our weary bones

Bouncing high with every fall
Getting choked and getting mauled
A high IQ of 63
Is what we’ll get eventually

judoka Judo: Poetry in Motion

Mr. Sandan

Sung to the tune of Mr. Sandman
From Charles Robinson

Mr. Sandan, teach me a throw
Pick up my body and then let it go
Show me the way through Nage no Kata
Then hit me with your crazy Uchimata
Mr. Sandan, just one more time
Hizaguruma would be really fine
So grab my sleeve for Se-o-i
Mr. Sandan sock it to me!!

judoka Judo: Poetry in Motion

Why I Do Judo

Submitted by Peter Holme (Kendal, England)

Why do I do judo? ‘taint no mystery
Need to have a good medical history
My physio told me judo is great
Help them blood cells circulate
Good for the lungs, great for the ticker
There ain’t nothing gets ya in a better shape quicker
Feels so healthy feels so sweet
Pulling with my arms sweeping with my feet
Moulding my muscles firming my form
Panting like a Shire horse sweating up a storm
Keeps me youthful, keeps me loose
Tightens my tummy and shrinks my caboose
Beats being sluggish, beats being lazy
Why do I do judo, maybe I’m crazy

judoka Judo: Poetry in Motion

Casey on the Mat

By Chuck Malooley
With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer, another great poet

Things weren’t looking pretty for Purdue’s Judo team that day;
The score was two to nothing with but three matches left to play.
Yes, when Dave was pinned in the first match and Chuck was choked in the next,
The home fans all grew silent as they knew they had been hexed.

Few fans remained locked in their seats, the outcome yet to see
As hope remained with the very few who understood the “ki”.
“Sun Tzu taught us,” Sensei said, “How we can win at that.”
Knowing what would happen soon when Casey got on the mat.

But Tark preceded Casey, and likewise so did Jim;
These two were always losing hands; the future looked more grim.
And upon these two the multitudes would place the losing bet;
The meet would all be over before Casey could get on the mat.

But Tark just won by armlock, to thrill the home crowd clan
And Jim, the much despised, he tore the stuffing from his man.
And when the mat was cleared they saw the home team still alive;
The score was tied at two-to-two in time for match number five!

From the few remaining throats arose a long and lusty cheer;
It filled the Wabash Valley, and it shattered every ear.
The bookies ran for cover from the turn-‘round of events
When they saw Casey, mighty Casey, as he got up from the bench.

There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped up to his mark
And pride in Casey’s attitude as the light shown through the dark.
And when, responding to the cheers, he bowed to their delight
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ‘twas Casey up to fight.

The eyes of all were on him as he tightened up his belt.
And all the fans applauded when his confidence was felt.
And while the other fighter shook and trembled every way,
Defiance flashed in Casey’s eye; the ref called, “Hajime.”

The gi-clad visitor launched his attack, more desperate than skilled,
A strong man would’ve been knocked down; a lesser might’ve been killed.
But Casey, in a toying mood, just sat down for a laugh.
“I like this chump”, ol’ Casey said; “Koka”, called the ref.

From the bleachers, black with people, there went up a muffled roar.
Like the beating of the storm waves on a far and distant shore.
“Kill him! Kill the referee!” yelled someone from the stands.
And it’s likely that they would have had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of grandeur on his face, his magnanimity shone.
With a calming motion from his hand, he bade the match go on.
Another “Hajime”, another attack, this time from the right and the left.
“Maybe it’s your birthday”, Casey laughed, sitting down. “Another koka” , called the ref.

“No way”, the maddened crowd called out, and echo yelled the same
With a scornful look from Casey’s eyes, the fans were quickly tamed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, it belched a fiery roar,
And they knew that Casey wouldn’t allow this man another score.

The sneer has fled from Casey’s lip, the cards have now been dealt.
He tucks, with cruel violence, his gi into his belt.
And now the ref calls, “Hajime”, and now the warriors go,
And now the mat is shattered by the landing of a throw.

Oh somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout,
But there is no joy for the Boilers’ team —- mighty Casey got knocked out!

judoka Judo: Poetry in Motion

Soul of Judo

By Roberto J. Perez

Zen and Judo
life and strength.
I stay quiet
in the Dojo.
No past or future
only present.
The mystic sensei
brings his wisdom.
Soul of Judo
life is here.

judoka Judo: Poetry in Motion

“When in doubt, choke ’em out!”