My last few rounds of golf was not pretty.  I’ve been in a bit of a rut lately. You know when your buddies tell you to pick up a three foot putt, they can feel your pain. They know. Why? Because THEY like most golfers have been there before. When we hear professional golfers refer to golf as ‘ a tough game.’   They also know that the game can be feast or famine. But watching this malnourished golfer struggling was perhaps like watching a wounded bird (what a visual paradox), and wondering if it will ever fly again, or possibly get eaten.

As I stood there admiring the great shots my partners were hitting I realized that I really like playing with these guys. We keep each other encouraged. We laugh at one another, laugh at ourselves. Of course, we want to play well, but we’re not hot shot competitors. That’s what keeps me coming back, not just the golf but the whole experience; the camaraderie, the beauty of the course, being outdoors and taking in the splendor of nature.

One of my closest friends (Reggie) plays golf but he hasn’t actually played in years. He bought an OCCULUS and decided he wanted to play golf. He explained to me that, like chess, it is possible to play against people in other states even other countries. Something I knew nothing about.

This one particular day he played against a guy who whipped him like Mike Tyson. He told me that the guy seemed a little perturbed that he wasn’t any competition. The guy told him to next time check out the person’s handicap before hand. In other words, STAY IN YOUR OWN LANE.  DON’T COME OUT HERE AND TRY TO HANG OUT WITH THE BIG BOYS AND GIRLS!

I couldn’t help but feel his pain as he licked his wounds. ” Hey, doesn’t this guy know that we all had to start somewhere.” I told him. Then I thought about it, maybe he had a point. Perhaps, next time he should check. It can be a bit discouraging to be out of your league. Some of us are what I consider late bloomers. I didn’t even hold a golf club in my hands until just about my mid-thirties, which was when I was introduced to this game.

It’s been an enjoyable ride, a lot of ups and downs but more ups than downs. But overall I count my blessings; at least I’m physically able to swing a golf club. There are some people who, perhaps, used to play but can’t anymore due to physical limitations. However, there are some who defy the odds. Why? Because they love the game too. And like me, they realize that the real competition is within one’s own self. My aim is always to get better but not at the expense of having a good time.

When I was a ranger at Delaware park golf course (a municipal golf course located in Buffalo, N.Y.),  I used to see a guy playing with one arm. He was right handed and had no left arm (no prosthetic). Guess what? Every time I watched him hit the ball,  it went straight as an arrow. He had such a smooth swing. Okay, I’ll come out and admit it-I was a little jealous.

So, if we are struggling with our game, have NO FEAR, it will come back eventually.  As it has been put, ‘PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE.’  We’ll never improve if we aren’t patient with ourselves. It’s a process. Put in the time. Practice the right techniques. Then trust the process.

One thing I do know is that whatever your handicap -there is always room for improvement and even professional golfers have to sometimes exercise patience. Why? Because they (like the rest of us)  have no other choice.

UNTI NEXT TIME. STAY FOCUSED, BE WELL. AND LIVE YOUR BEST LIFE!

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The  DPL wants you to tap into your imagination. We want you to use your visionary super power. We are also willing to bet that most of you never associated golf with poetry. How is that possible?  GOLF and POETRY?

Most people think that writing poetry is a sedentary event. You sit at a table or desk and write. While this is true to an extent, POETRY can also be a moving, artistic expression. Look at dancers, whether their movements are choreographed or improvisational, it’s  poetry in motion.

Every time I play golf and decide which club to use, for me, it’s like I’m picking up a pen to write. What shall I write?  Well, what do I see?  Where do I want the ball to land. What direction is the wind blowing?  I’m taking in and processing all the sensory information needed in order to select the right club that will assist me in writing the outcome I want.

Let’s explore what our POETRY CADDY put into our bag:

a  METAPHOR is a comparison between two things that are otherwise unrelated. A golf ball isn’t a bird, yet the object is to not only to make it fly like one, but to also make fly in the direction that we want it to go. When I do all the right things, the bird listens; when I don’t, well, you know the rest…

ALLITERATION is when two or more words that start with the same sound are used repeatedly in a phrase or sentence. The repeated sound creates the alliteration, not the same letter. For example, ” Tasty Tacos.” When golfing, even if my swing varies a little from time to time, I still want to make solid contact. Usually when the ball is hit on  the sweet spot of the club, a distinctive “Click” sound is heard which is sweet music to a golfer’s ears. That’s the alliteration I want. I want to hear that sound over and over again. CLICK, CLICK, CLICK…

IMAGERY is an important poetic device-it’s how you make the BIG IDEAS in a poem as well as the poem’s meaning come “a live” for the reader. Before I swing that club I need to visualize where I want the ball to land. Of course, I don’t want it to land in the water, or in a sand trap (typically referred to as the “beach”), nor in the other fairway. However, I find it best to stay focused on the good shot I want to see. Block out everything else. I can’t focus on what I don’t want.

RHYTHM-  I always said, “If you have a heartbeat-you have rhythm.” Rhythm brings together all the elements that makes for a smooth golf swing, whereby it flows (like a well written poem)  and doesn’t look staccato like I’m fighting physics. I even downloaded a metronome app to help me establish a sense of timing. I also heard fellow golfers say that they count in their heads as they start the backswing, 1…2…3…4.  And some even use names of their favorite golfers, for example: TI-GER-WOODS (3 count), FRED-DEE-COUP-PLES (4 count). It works when you break it down into syllables that not only fit but also sounds good to the ear. Pick a name and add some spice to your game.

RHYME-  It’s simple-  IT DON’T MEAN A THING IF YOU AIN’T GOT THAT SWING.

NOW. The only thing left to do is to pick up those clubs and BE your own  POETRY-IN-MOTION.

UNTIL NEXT TIME.  PEACE, LOVE AND LIVE YOUR BEST LIFE!!!

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DID I DO THAT?

Believe me, I have mimicked (quite a few times), Steve Urkel, the annoying but lovable character played by Jaleel White on the long-running late ’80s sitcom, Family Matters.

DID I DO THAT?

As if I couldn’t believe it (the truth is I couldn’t) but why shouldn’t I believe it. It happened, didn’t it. Of course it did. I have to belief it. Why? Because I did it. I hit a fantastic shot. So bring on the fist bumps and the high-fives. I’ll take it. And yes, thank-you. I’ll take my bow, for now.

When I think about, I’ve come a long way. I remember my humble beginnings; if you wanted a hole dug, just give me a pitching wedge and place a golf ball on the ground. I would swing, digging up a lot of dirt and grass, and the ball would still be laying there. It looked like someone came through with a backhoe.

Then I was told to keep my head down, keep looking at the ball until I hit it. So, I kept my head down ( praying the whole time) and I eventually connected and the ball finally left the ground and flew. I also took lessons. The more I practiced and played my game improved little by little.

PRACTICE PRACTICE PRACTICE

Like anything else in life, nothing is handed to you. Why would it be any different in golf? I know I have to put in the work if I expect to get better. But being too hard on myself can be self defeating. I have to REMEMBER TO THINK POSITIVE AND RELAX.  Don’t over think and have confidence.

If I own my bad shots, well then, I certainly must accept and own the good ones as well.  When I hit a good shot, I hit a good shot. Even if it’s not a good looking shot; whereby the ball doesn’t fly in the air but crawls through the grass (what’s typically called a worm burner) up to the hole like a centipede. Great!  I’ll take. Skill? Luck? Who cares at this point. Pride takes a back seat. I’m interested in results.

When we put in the practice to get better, we should expect to be better; shifting from the unbelieving question, “DID I DO THAT?” to the more soul satisfying, “I DID THAT! “

UNTIL NEXT TIME.

PEACE, LOVE AND LIVE YOUR BEST LIFE.

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Although GOLF can be both challenging and fun; there is one word that golfers hate to hear or yell themselves and that’s the dreaded word “FORE.” In case you’re reading this and you’re not familiar with the word; the wikipedia definition relates it to be “an exclamation called out as a warning to people in the path of a golf ball.” As much as I care to admit, an exclamation which I have yelled out a few times over the years.

FORE!!!  WHAT!!!  Have you ever wondered, why?  Why did you even bother to come out to play.  Well, so have I.   And no one wants to hear you deflect how bad you’re playing by mentioning how great you played a few days ago. They don’t want to hear it. They don’t care. What matters is how you’re playing now.

So, a bit of advice… if you ever golf by yourself and you make all those fantastic shots; 30 or 40 foot putts for a birdie, 40 yard chip shots that land 2-3inches from the hole and drives that launch straight as an arrow, into infinity, you might want to just enjoy and appreciate the round yourself.  I know you’re proud of your unwitnessed accomplishments but why bother telling any of your friends? Their not going to believe you anyway.

So. I’m still wondering ‘WHY’?  Why am I out here? Why did I bother to show up? Nothing is going right. I’m all over the place. I’m playing military golf, hitting the ball left then right then left then right. I know how to march. I was in the Marines. I just don’t want to do it on a golf course.

” I suck at this game! ” I say in frustration. ” Take it easy my man. You have to trust your swing. It’s a process. You have to take the good with the bad. See the positive. Even a broke clock is right twice a day. ” My friend Shawn said cool yet reassuringly. We both laughed. True words of wisdom.

I realized he’s right. If you start beating yourself up, you’ll dig yourself an even deeper hole. RELAX, STAY POSITIVE, TRUST,  BELIEVE.  I now know that when I remember those words and absorb them into my mind and heart it will lead to better outcomes.

Since, as I heard it put, ‘Repetition is the Mother of Mastery’,  so it is with patience and practice (and a swing coach) my swing and confidence is improving and my clock is back moving. I know that I have to continually invest the time it takes to keep it MOV…ING  in the right direction.

As we have said, the DPL applauds golfers of all ages.  KEEP EMBRACING THE CHALLENGE.  

Until next time…PEACE, LOVE AND KEEP LIVING YOUR BEST LIFE!

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PHOTO BY LUCIE LIZ

The above photo is a picture of a golf green; commonly referred to (by some golfers) as the ‘DANCE  FLOOR’.  The ultimate goal is to eventually end up on the dance floor in order to putt the ball into the hole. The length of time it takes to get to the dance floor is determined on a person’s level of skill.  If you a more experienced player, it usually doesn’t take as long to get to the GREEN.  However, the rub is that there are so many things to navigate, both internally and externally,  just to get to the dance floor.

When I was a lot younger, single and going to clubs dancing was a way to meet women. The dance floor was an ice breaker. I also learned a valuable lesson in life, sometimes you have to hear a lot of no’s before you hear a ‘yes.’  So even if I don’t do as well as I expected, there are always some great shots I can put into my memory bank.

Most writers (poets) have a treasure chest of metaphors waiting to be used like different colors to an artist or various spices to a chef. So when I first heard of the comparison of a GOLF green to a dance floor, it made sense. I finally arrived at my destination. I’m in the club and it’s time for a few dance moves, however; this time the putter is my partner. Eventually, all golfers make it to the dance floor.  If you putt well, you’re a good dancer. But if you don’t there is always a chance for redemption on the next hole.

Okay. I’ll just come right out with it. I have a confession to make. I’m having an affair. I’m a little embarrassed to put my business out there. When I’m not with her I’m thinking about her. My wife knows about it. In fact, she knew long before I made the confession. She doesn’t mind the affair. She encourages me. She’s good with the relationship as long as I keep things in perspective.

You may have guessed who I’m having an affair with…your guess is right…GOLF.

Golf is my passion. I love the game. I just wish I wasn’t so obsessed with it. But I can’t help it. I play a lot of golf (not as much as I’d like to), watch a lot of the golf channel (watching different tournaments and lessons from the pros), I have a good swing coach (Mr. Horn) who is a phenomenal person. I’ve learned a lot from him.  I go to the driving range about 2-3 times a week, have a subscription to GOLF DIGEST.  I have written poetry about the sport and even wrote a bluesy song about my golf journey.

Sometimes I feel I’m in a ‘she loves me, she loves me not’ relationship. Then I realize that she loves me when I do the right thing. When I relax, don’t try too hard, trust and have confidence in myself ; she will usually  meet me where I’m at.  And when that happens…what a feeling of joy.   I FEEL LIKE DANCING.

Until next time. PEACE, LOVE  AND LIVE YOUR BEST LIFE!

The post THE DANCE FLOOR appeared first on Department of Poetic License.

                     THE SWEET SPOT                                                                                                                     OF THE CLUB STRIKES THE BALL                                                                                           BALL TAKES OFF FROM THE TEE

                     CLIMBS OBLIGINGLY                                                                                                                 WITH CHILDISH INNOCENCE                                                                                                   LEAVING ME TO PONDER                                                                                                         IT’S MYSTICAL PATH

                     AMAZED AND TWISTED                                                                                                             INTO THIS POSITION, A PRETZEL OF A SWING                                                                     I FREEZE LIKE A SPRINGER SPANIEL

                    WATCHING THE TRAJECTORY WITH REVERENCE

ONE WITH THE MOMENT                                                                                                          THAT POINT WHEN THE BALL                                                                                                                                  IS NEITHER SOARING NOR FALLING

JUST HANGING

LIKE SO MANY STARS                                                                                                                HIDING BEHIND

                   BLUE SKY

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