ODE TO THE DOJO WIDOW
(October ‘95/#14)
A Dojo Widow is that young maid who has been abandoned for the sweat and bruises of the training hall. Who, might I ask, is the fool who would abandon the lure of a sweet young thing for the agony of the training hall? Well, whoever that fool is he should know that ‘what goes around comes around...’
The young beauty walked with a veil on her face
the young man stood at the altar in place
he would love her forever she truly knew
but she didn’t know what their love would go through
a ring was passed and a pact was made
but soon the deal would begin to fade
soon she would learn what life had in store
for the young man’s heart was on the dojo floor
That night she waited, atremble in her heart
a wedding consummated was just the start
but the young man turned and headed for the door
his art was waiting at a martial store
Bewildered she sat and when he returned
he was too sore for duty she sadly learned
She hoped the next night he wouldn’t be sore
but karate seemed to call him forevermore
Her life was set in a permanent mold
she did the cleaning but lust was on hold
and night after night she stared at the door
while her man went to practice the art that was war
As life went on the maid grew sour
with an anger within that began to flower
and every night her bitterness grew
until, at last, the anger broke through
He returned one night, weary and sore
she met him with a club as he came through the door
he tried to block but rage made her fast
he tried to dodge but he just couldn’t last
the bones in his arms snapped with a crack
he tried to kick but his legs got a whack
the death touch he applied to her neck was a joke
and soon it was him that started to croak
Then, as he struggled, she dragged him to bed
had her way and left him for dead
now when he trains there’s a purpose in mind
he always makes sure he’s at home on time