Poems

The Rink

The fresh, cool, crisp air. . .

The ice - clean, clear, and smooth
- Except for the marks from my blades.

The rink is a place where I can go
-gliding as though I could fly
-jumping as though there's no gravity
-spinning link nothing else
-skating freely...

A place full of my childhood memories
along with more to come.

I started here at age 11,
and I'll continue here,
fulfilling my dream,
with a life time of memoreis to come.

A place where my skating dreams,
Dreams of gold,
are to come.

The Ice Skater
(Dedicated to Alexei Urmanov)

You are beautiful.

I can only watch breathlessly
As you trace the music upon the ice.

You are untouchable.
We are separated by a pane of glass.
Divided by oceans;
Connected by a thin line
I am unseen;
Just as a single admirer
Is imperceptible
Against the blur of the crowd.

You are beautiful.

You stand upon a cold, unforgiven stage
The eyes are upon you.
The eyes are upon YOU.

Take your bows
Thrive upon the nameless cries of the audience,
Roses scattered at your feet;
Tokens of admiration,
Praise in a solid form

As you take your final bow,
I cast my words upon your feet.


-Cherryne Edejer


Death Of A Friend

I've never known you
But that doesn't mean
I don't love you.
No one will ever fill the emptiness,
You have left.
You died in the arms of your love
Only much too soon.
At the age of 28 you said
Goodbye for good
To your wife, whom you softly called Katoosha
And to your daughter, Dasha,
Your world.
Now you take care of them
Like a guardian angel.
They will never forget you
And neither will I.
You were a gentle giant amongst giants.
I want to thank you
For you having been.
We will miss you forever!


-Anonymous
Clitter-Clatter of Little Skates

Her mamma walked her through the door,
all bundled up in wool;
I could hardly even see her face,
but her eyes were peeping through.

I took her out onto the ice,
She told me she was cold;
She put her little gloved hand in mine,
And then I wiped her nose.

We started skating to and fro,
and so my thoughts began;
Would this one be a skating pro?
or Olympian?

They come to me with dreams of gold,
and glitter in their eyes;
Some will make it, some will fall,
I teach them all to try.

But if all they learn is the love of skating,
and how to "paint" on ice;
I feel I would have fulfilled my goal,
And made a difference in this young life.


-Lisa
Iselin68@aol.com

Backflip

Gliding on the ice
In your own world
Leading us in with you
Twirling and jumping
Never making a mistake
To our eyes you are perfect
You and your backflips
Which is what we all wait for
In each program
You are my favorite
Because you have been around so long
You are a trooper
For going through cancer
And still waiting to skate
We are waiting
For the new and improved
Scott Hamilton
To skate for the world
Again and always


-Invisible Poet
invisible_poet@hotmail.com

To Daddy, with all my love...©

It wasn't this desolate place that led me here
Nor the glory that bewitches us all to want to dance
It wasn't the grace that enraptures those of our kind
Nor the tenderness that cradles us within its grasp

It was the glory that I found within my soul
To dance for you in this forsaken world
I needed its touch, a so called vice
That brought me here upon this heaven called ice

I'll turn my glory to gold just for you
I'll grace it with an embrace you've never known
I'll make it sing a beautiful melody
It will be one that is yours alone

When all is done and only the memory is upon the ice
I'll know that it was truly the grace in you
That brought forth the serenity of my dance
That made these blades shine, just for you....

Daddy, I'll never forget you...
I thank God for have blessing me with you...each and every day I had...


-Brandy McCord
mpsas@earthlink.net

Vocalise: Katusha's Song


My soul seems cold, bleak without part of
someone I saw everyday,
and that is you, without you, my love.

I don't know what to do without you
by my side.
It hurts so much saying goodbye.
Kiss by kiss we touch,
lingering
To be with you, day by day.
This light of love blinds me,
and this fading love's light
takes with it my sight.
So night falls upon my tear-stained eyes.
Paths turn:
rosebuds filled all my thoughts of you.
Beautiful, strong, and calm.
Paths cross, paths turn,
and one day our turn will come again,
one day soon.

No longer do I feel
your strong, gentle arms on my waist.
I cannot embrace or feel your tender touch.
I can't fill this empty rink.
You no longer lift me into the skies,
my own Seriozha.

Without you, all else is cold and bleak.
Without you, love grows empty,too.
Without you, without you, without you
no sun shines for me.
Without you, art and poetry are dead.
Nothing ever remains the same
instead remains a space
in heart filled with remorse and doubt.

Without you, nightmares come and stay.
The colors of life fade away
into gray that I can't quite see through
without you.
Tears are my food and drink.
Without you, life is but a shadow
and beyond the grave,
there you are
Without me.


-Zenovia Lockhart
Lockhart.4@nd.edu

Canada Through You

Entering the village dressed in red,
Disturbing pressure swarming around,
Images a large part of the game,
Perfection portrayed by frills,
Graceful movements across the ice,
Capturing fans and agents eyes.

Weeks before competition,
Food must be gone,
Anorexia and bulimia,
Are very well known,

As hair ribbons pass,
Balletic bodies flow past,
Last words with coaches,
Waiting for the moment.

Glide onto the ice,
Fake a smile and go,
Be sure to be perfect,
One flaw and you're gone.

The music begins,
And you feel the weight,
Your whole country's pride,
Rested upon your shoulders.

Do it for Canada,
This is your time,
Be sure to pull through,
For the country is you.


-Annie Rabethge
Annie6.0@cheerful.com


Before His Lovely Echo Fades ... an ode to Katia

The gentle hand to guide her on the ice
The only one she ever held
Is gone.

The laugh that she knew, and recognized
The one that everyone wanted to hear
Is no more.

And before his lovely echo fades
She smiles
And turns to her child

In the little girl's eyes is his soul
In her smile is his smile
In her love is his love.

She was not alone on that day in Hartford
She is not alone today
With each step that Dasha makes
Sergei is by her side
Watching over his family
Like an Angel standing by.


-Bernadette Elizaga Trevias

LAMENT OF AN ADULT SKATER

My body is bruised from yesterday's fall.
My ego as well. I ran into the wall.
Between the push harders and always bend more,
My shoulders are achy, my legs just plain sore.

My husband is angry. The kids think I'm nuts.
"Mom, you're too old to be learning the lutz!"
But I refuse to sit in the bleachers and freeze.
I'd rather have bruises on both of my knees.

And living on Advil and Vitamin C
Is a small price to pay for a perfect drop 3.
So on days when I need to escape from the static,
I grab my skate spinner and head for the attic.

I practice my backspin and pulling in tight
And jumping from both feet for maximum height.
I jump and finally start to rotate much faster,
But I land with a thud, and so does some plaster.

And I start to think as I stare at the mess
That my family is right. I'm too old for this stress.
But when I'm on the ice I feel so elated.
My love for this sport will never be stated.

So while 4:30 comes early on Mondays, I know,
And I'm dreaming of triples and brackets without snow,
"It's worth it", I say as I crawl from my bed.
"Ten minutes of freestyle and I'll no longer feel dead."

The music starts playing. The kids start to jump.
My heartbeat starts racing. I'm out of my slump.
I try a sit-spin. At least it was lower.
And I wonder if anyone does a camel spin slower.

But I'm having fun, and that's something rare
For people my age with grey in their hair.
So though my back aches as I check my 3 turn,
And bend my knee deep 'til my quad starts to burn,

When I toe in and leap up in the air for my flip,
Overrotate the landing and bounce on my hip,
I smile to myself and giggle with glee.
There is no place on earth where I'd rather be.


-Judy Leedom Tyrer


Tribute to Katia and Sergei

He was a man
She was a woman
Together they were magic
On and off the ice.

They were a team
One of the greatest ever
But one day all of that disappeared
When we lost Sergei.

There is a time to be born
There is a time to die
This was Sergei's time to leave
Though he is with us in our hearts.

How heart-wrenching it was
To watch Katia
Skate on her own
So sad for the end of an era had passed.

It still hurts
Even though it happened in 1995
The pain re-surfaces
We find ourselves asking "WHY"

Why Sergei? Why now?
There are questions with no answers
They must be asked
But no one has an answer.

They loved life
They loved each other
They were partners
They were parents.

To us it seemed
That they were living in a dream
In an instant the dream was shattered
And real life came back.

When Sergei died
Real life snuffed out a dream
But his memory
Lives on as it will for years.

No one will forget
The great team of Katia and Sergei
For they were the best there was
Even if it was for such a short time.


-Kathleen

The Iceskater

The Iceskater glides with incredible grace,
Her finger tips up, a smile on her face,
Her arms are long, her legs are long,
Her program is fast, but she keeps up the pace.

With speed and agility she jumps up high,
She lands on one foot without having to try,
The crowd cheers, she has no fears,
She has more style than money can buy.

Her spins are fast in a perfect position,
She's clearly the best in her division
Her stroking looks nice as she covers the ice,
She has practically won, there's no competition.

Her program is perfect all the way through
Skaters like this - there's only a few
With determination, there's no combination
She cannot do, but the question is - "WHO
IS THIS GREAT SKATER?"
The answer?
IT'S YOU


-Emma

Untitled

I move with a compulsion, not so perfectly.
How I remember my girlhood--
the swift practices with Serioque,
the coronations beneath my balcony,
the Black Sea. I do not grieve, however:
the body of my child glimmers at the periphery,
blonde silken laughing angel with his face.

Somewhere he reigns. Cool bright smile,
the sun of white nights, constancy.
The universe not so big, then--
the multitudes that remember him
all gather in the arena, watching me
spin like a split top. Their love
is him, divided into millions
dotting the cold darkness with their
shining lips. I skate like one again.

I laugh, I glide. I whiz by
and take it all in, not like before.
I am a quick little sparkling thing,
a wink at the door--a parting kiss
blown, a decisive jump in the air,
a solitary ritual of hope--peals
of joy. I live everything, and
once again, just to be sure.
I am your ballerina out of
the music box, your artist's
soul, your evermore.


-Copyright 1997 by Rochelle Theo Pienn.


To a Skater
( Kurt Browning )

Across the placid ice,
his skates engrave
a masterpiece.

To see his happiness,
his paradise,
a world that belongs only to him
( I sigh )

As he glides
as softly as an angel.
This is heaven for him
and for me. . .me to watch him.

A pillar of grace and art.

But most of all its his smile.
Luring me to the ice,
and his passion for it.
So that his every move is
the stroke of an artist's brush.
His canvas-the ice.
His brush-his skates
...the art is him.

Neither defeat nor glory can change
his skating
He skates in a world ...unto him.

But to glimpse it- is the experience of a life.
A world so glorious
and peaceful
That I feel as a part of heaven
with an angel of the ice


-Annabel

Katia

the reckless world
plays petty games
on the angel
of hope and joy

seeking the truth
of the game myster
she searches,
all around

straining to understand
the game and its rules,
the angel learns
of so much more

fearing the loss
of loved ones
in the cruel world
she cries in wonder

as the world revolves
the answers are discovered
slowly, oh so slowly,
as the kind one waits

the glorious light
of peace and happiness
graces the presence
of the darling angel

the light hold
not time or answers
the angel knows
she must live

living is mean
for the present
or even the future
but never the past

tribulations of a game
will forever offer
seemingly undefeatable obstacles
in a temporary world

the angel will see
the truth of the game,
for a renewed strength
will fill her

the outcome is uncertain,
the world holds now answers,
yet all who know the angel
know survival is destined.


-Wendy Marszalek

Oksana

Beautiful girl in pink,
Your strength overwhelmed us all
as your little legs carried you to the rink.

With a sore leg and a bruised back
Your determination tells the story
Turning pain into Gold, no grace did you lack.

Your little arms raised high
I knew you had won,
With Glory around your neck, you felt as if you could fly.

A champions world you began to live,
Embracing stardom, you left your homeland
Entering a new skating world, you had so much to give.

Unfortunately, wounds aren't always easily healed
As womanhood knocked on your door
Pain, confusion, and injury took you away from your field.

Some say you're lost, some say you've disappeared
But, I know you'll find us again
Search your soul, and I know you'll find the ice in which you're revered.

So, take you time
Grow as you may, search as you must,
For skating is your heart, and that is what you shall find.


-Ami Erickson