Best Skating Rink Poems
Crying River (The Untold Ballad)
Undercover waters of rain dash
Cold children, no smiling splash
Tragic sobs, epic force of the mountain rain
Beautiful as it may seem -shallow basin
---Dream---
She cries a tune,
Mocking the Maple lands, a beautiful tune
Crooked Cornwall, she steams with the moon
Oceanic dreams, monsoon season, she swoon's
Frozen, dead, ice skating rink
Her wind, Pretty Chains O Lake
Wet and Wild, the Elk drinks from her garden
Water falls from the lids of Jordan
Beautiful as it may seem with open curtain
When the ocean succeeds away from the sea
She's wide awake during winter's rain and breeze
Lost in the mud's of Bellaire's heartache,
River Blues, ice cold snap, bayou stirring up
Racing rivers crying by the western gutter
Silent, bells chime in the Black Mallard waters
Streams, blowing and drying dew droplets
Little rapid tears, everything spotless
Sugar, Swan waves down by Devils Creek
Listen to the thunder bay rolling deep
Beautiful as it may seem, she weeps
A northern world with streaks of falling rain
Pretty running white hair pane
A weather vane, snow dangles above her domain
Beautiful crying winds
In the Eyes of Michigan
~3/5/14~
Blindfolded, he takes me from the car through the humid air of August. He holds my hand, and then surrounds me with his arms, when small obstacles appear. He brushes the hair from my forehead, gentling me like a shy colt. The silk rectangular scarf, I had folded and tied about my breasts clings to me. My cutoffs ride up further exciting me, as he lifts me onto a wall. Shushing me, he says. “Sit still, honey.” I have no idea where we are but, his voice and footsteps have a slight echo.
the wail
of a harmonica:
moonlight serenade
Vibrations tingle across my skin, raising the down on my arms. A bead of sweat mixes with baby lotion and follows a shiver down, from cleavage to navel. Seconds become minutes, as the song caresses me. Oh, how I love him, this long tall drink of water with his huge hands and slow drawl. As the last note hangs in echo, I hear him approach. He lifts me high and traces the droplet down to the top of my hip-huggers with his tongue. I am still blindfolded when he places me on the ground. I feel his breathe upon my mouth. The tip of his tongue plays across my teeth. Ah, I remember him, his face, his hands, his taste, and that night at the empty skating rink…but, sadly, not his name.
the scarf
falls from my hands:
the drawer closes
First Published by Contemporary Haibun On-line Winter of 2013
On some bleak airfield on some Cambridge fen
(that awful winter – 'forty-seven, I think)
my mother, novice servicewoman then,
crossed parade-ground like a skating rink
to see the Christmas concert on the camp.
Inside, the nissen hut was black as ink
till airmen lit a feeble spirit lamp.
The snow was driving against one outer wall:
she calls to mind a smell of tents and damp
and stinging fingers, fresh from snowballs,
and gouts of steam, blown out in cloudy spurts
as people laughed. Then lights dimmed in the hall.
She now recalls a curious stab of hurt
to see the Italian janitor of the base
revealed onstage in P.O.W. shirt
when curtains opened. What had been a place
of uproar, now – faced by this threadbare clown –
had undergone some dreadful loss of face.
In dubbin make-up, N.A.A.F.I. dressing-gown,
as solemn as a high priest at the altar,
this patched-up Pagliacci, ear-flaps down,
sang ludicrously well. The keyboard faltered,
and stopped. The singer, weeping now, kept on,
quite heedless, as his clown's nose dripped tear-water.
There's something sacred in the humblest song
(with wretchedness wrought into lasting good
through alchemy of art) and, all along,
the watchers, to their horror, understood.
He sang so gorgeously of going home
because he knew full well he never would.
Driving past our old home on Glenwood Avenue
Memories came to life from my childhood days
Going over the park, Mom. I'll be in before ten
Got a game of hide and seek. Everyone plays
We'd take a bottle of yoo-hoo or nu-grape to drink
In winter on Clark Street there was an ice skating rink
A pack of luckies in our shirt sleeve thinking we were cool
The Bungalow was our community pool
There were Friday night dances in the gym at Saint Jerome
Maybe a stop at the Coffee Cup while we were walking home.
Movies at the Majestic and Victoria were great
Fan buses for away games. We'd get back late.
American Billiard Academy was where the balls were racked
No seat at the home game because the stadium was packed
Under the state store, the Y M C A
At the Vic a Saturday matinee
A baseball game with a sponge ball and fist
In the school's gymnasium, doing the Twist
Middle Ward playground, the movie was free
Adjusting the picture on the old T V.
A class trip on school buses to Hershey Park
Sleigh ride down Snake Hill in the cold and the dark
Walking the coal bank by Number Fourteen
Stopping at Mike's to play the pinball machine
On Biddle Street, we'd sit on the cemetery wall
Jumping into piles of leaves in the early fall
Then I stopped at Dutch Hill Park for a while
Memories of Tamaqua always make me smile.
Trapped behind a desk, first at school, then at work
Why on earth are folks such awful jerks
If we didn't like school, why continue to suffer
Just because some boss made a great offer?
Rebel! Break out! Do the unconventional!
Find a pursuit that's completely unmentionable
Spend a year searching for the 'missing link'
Move to the equator, build an ice-skating rink
Heed my advice, friend, and you'll never be sorry
Ta-ta and good luck! ~ Time for my noonday safari
"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge (from his writings)
Gatherings and parties I attended
when I was young are memories so dear,
for they’ve endured as treasures most splendid!
My friends from school inhabited one sphere
that mattered to me when youth had begun.
The parties with my school chums brought such cheer.
The birthday parties – oh they were so fun -
like those held at the roller skating rink -
a rush of pleasure loved by everyone!
The parties where we didn’t sleep a wink
were oddly labeled slumber parties! We
would party, but we gal pals did not drink.
We got high on laughter and repartee!
Such girly girls, we’d gossip and we’d squeal
at ghost tales until dawn’s first light we’d see.
Another part of childhood – a big deal -
was family. I looked most forward to
reunions, meeting cousins with great zeal.
What fun to see my cousins all anew
since rarely did I see them all year long,
so when we’d meet, there was a lot to do.
I loved when cousin Steven came along
(a crush of mine!) Off we’d then run and play.
With relatives it felt cool to belong.
A great buffet we’d have on Christmas day,
and Secret Santa gifts we would receive.
No other Christmas seemed a better way.
My memories of these times do not leave.
Friends and family are precious, I believe.
Oct. 7, 2022
for Brian Strand's 'YOUR PREFERENCE' Poetry Contest
snow falls
on wet pavement
skating rink
11/7/13
I know a lot of you will think
that a word like ‘Shag’ is a terrible thing to use.
But, in my life, my world, if you care to discuss:
you’ll learn a thing or two of southern syllabus.
Along about nineteen fifty four, as I recollect.
In a small Myrtle Beach bar ------trendy, circumspect.
Nameless here for the sake of patent rights, and permissions
not asked for, you know the gist—legal fights.
But none the less, the fat boy’s ambitions
live on.
Not only in the name of his Bar, you see;
but the name of the dance.
And the name of the dance is the S-H-A-G
Yes,here it is more than sixty years later.
The shag clubs number a hundred or better.
And that is conservative I would think.
For in the south, still home to the skating rink.
Still, beholding to the thought of romance.
It’s fitting to claim, and often to brag
of a dance we own and still love- - the Shag!!!!
Traveling through the Valley in my old car
Passing by the rubble that was Saint Ann's
Wondering what is happening to the valley
No more growth, I guess God had other plans
An empty lot where Saint Mary's school use to be
Stopped by and shed a silent tear
Henry's and the My Place are just part of the past
I'm just watching all my memories disappear
The Coffee shop is gone now up in Summit Hill
The stadium stands but there is no scheduled game
The school building became a housing project
Somehow the Valley doesn't seem the same
The churches are combined now, once they all were full
Population's down, getting smaller I fear
We once knew everyone by their first name
I'm just watching all my memories disappear.
We'd hitch hike from Tamaqua to hang at the My
Play the juke box and dance in the back room
Stop by the bowling alley or catch a movie
Now the block's as quiet as a tomb
We'd drag race on a Saturday night on the Hauto stretch
Seems we never really knew the meaning of fear
Kids don't love their beat up cars the way that we once did
And I'm watching all my memories disappear
No more church picnics up in Dutch Hill Park
The hangouts that we knew are now all gone
The pool hall, YMCA and skating rink
In my mind they still linger on
Once we'd gather in the Indian fields
To have some fun and share a quart of beer
Sit along the cemetery wall late at night
I'm just watching all my memories disappear.
hidden in my memories is a playground ...
where I played ... as a young girl with my friends
I remember it so clearly like I am there
the children laughing and shouting
running around
it is a nice memory to recall
~ the playground was not far from our home
and I went every single day
except in the rain to play on the swings
because they were my favorite- I went higher and higher ~
at that time there were seesaws (teeter totters)
monkey bar structures and merry-go-round spinners
but, nowadays they are considered too dangerous
so playgrounds in my city don't have them anymore
but they exist in my memories ...
~ sometimes mom made me bring
my little brother so, I would put him in the sandbox
oh, that kid could spend the day building stuff ~
our park had a wading pool shallow on one end
but a little deeper on the other like waist deep
of course, there was always staff around for safety
I really liked the slides and little bro did too
I remember the playground as being quite large
the ground was grass ... and parts had sand
in the winter there was a skating rink that I 'loved' ...
~ lots of wonderful and forever memories
I have from those carefree childhood days in the playground
and of summer and winter delight ...
... now, let me gather up my yesteryear memories
and put them away ~
The coldest season of the year,
Up toward the northern hemisphere,
Prepare for snow, all temperatures low,
The solstice seems so near.
Many say winter is full of grief,
A boring wall picture motif,
Insanely complaining, quite entertaining,
While I sit here and sigh in relief.
Snowfall precipitation is intriguing,
And the sun is certainly deceiving,
A lodge in the woods, sure sounds good,
Air so cold you see when you're breathing.
Cold climates reach record highs,
With accumulation up to our thighs,
Boots and gloves, hot cocoa and hugs,
"The Bridge May Be Icy" street signs.
Placed between fall and spring,
Let's go to the ice skating rink,
Fall on my behind, clumsy inclined,
I think I may need a shrink!
Written By: Laura Urbaniak
Date: November 10, 2015
~Write Me A Winter Poem~
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Its all of your imagination,
The night life, in the day time? All the shine, in the
New York, New York, kinda times
New York times in the winter months imaginable, very cold,
Let me really make it in a New York kinda mind frame , crystal clear, fashion with nothing,
Nothing but the best, and the rest is a block ago,
at the end of the block, Turn left,
Then in a quick New York minute,
you'll see a big Christmas tree and ice skating rink,
When you see the taxi with the big logo saying
Go That away!
You've only gone to far in a New York Kinda minute.
"Rock Chick"
Verse1: (yah! ohh!) I'm a rock chick who doesn't mess around/ What the frick is
wrong.don't you understand(get it)/ No/I don't like pink or the roller skating rink/
But I do like orange and the mall(yea)!/ Panic!At the disco is the best
music/seems it's ohh...the best band to me!/ Now look ahead and look to see
me/of who I am/ I'm not Sam.I don't want you/do do ohhh..//
B1://Rock chick
is on the roll/oh no no noooo (yah yah yah yah!)
CHORUS://Kay/A.K.A. Rock
chick/is a girl/who does like flicks. If you mess around with me/be on the look-out
for some slappin' around/Have you found an image of me yet?!? Rock chick/ Be
on the look-out/I'll be drivin' my car.../ And you'll look to see/cuz you know I'm a
star!/ The music is playin'/and you'll hear 'em sayin' "Turn it up!"/cuz they know I'll
rock the entire neighborhood!/ Have you heard.../I'm not a nerd/ Some
peoplethink I'm crazy/ Hey, that's okay/cuz their rockless!//
Verse 2://Kay/A.K.A./Rock chick/is a girl/ who does like fliks/If you mess around
with me/be on the look-out for some slappin' around/Have you found an image of
me yet!?/Rock chick!
(B2)://Rock chick is on the roll/oh no no ooo yea/That's
me/ (yah yah yah yah!)
CHORUS://kAY/a.k.a/rOCK CHICK/iS A GIRL/ WHO DOES
LIKE FLICKS/iF YOU MESS AROUND WITH ME/BE ON THE LOOK-OUT FOR
SOME SLAPPIN' AROUND/hAVE YOU FOUND AN IMAGE OF ME YET!?/rOCK
CHICK. music be playin'/People be sayin'/ "Turn it up!"/cuz they know I rock.../
(electric guitar solo!)://
BRIDGE:
Kay/A.K.A. Rock
chick/is a girl/who does like flicks. If you mess around with me/be on the look-out
for some slappin' around/Have you found an image of me yet?!?
CHORUS://(2x's) END://Yah!/Ohh!/Rock
chick/Kay/A.K.A./Rock chick!
I was born in a snow storm,
and for that very reason I seem to love winter
with all the lovely filigree snowflakes falling
from the sky.
Outside my window,
is a pure white winter snow blanket.
Some would like to just stay warm inside,
not me- I want to walk in the snow.
A quick breakfast and I dress for winter
with a hat, scarf, mittens, and down-filled coat
oh, and my warmest socks and high boots,
see, I am Canadian and I know all about winter.
My cat wants to follow me out the door,
but I tell her NO, you will get frostbitten!
Oh, the air is crisp and it is bitter cold
and the trees are frozen soldiers
standing silent guard.
A snowflake kisses me.
Already a snowplow has cleaned the street,
and people are shoveling their driveways.
Across the street,
some kids are making a snowman
oh, this brings me back to winter memories
when it was I and my friends playing in the snow.
Turn, turn back the clock to those winter days,
of yesterday skating, sledding, snowball fights
and making snow angels and later hot chocolate
with gingerbread cookies,
and we all had rosy cheeks.
But even nowadays, there is plenty to do,
my city has many outdoor festivals all winter long
and horse carriage rides through downtown!
There is a huge Christmas tree lighting event
and we boost of the longest skating rink
in the whole world.
Where you can get beaver tails to eat (not real)
but a delicious pastry and maple syrup sticks.
Oh, have you ever gone horse back riding in snow!
I love the Christmas craft fairs,
and the chilly walks around my neighborhood
looking at the flickering house lights and decorations,
there is a peace like no other
when your feet are creaking in the snow
on a winter night.
__________________________
November 17, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/'My Winter'
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9620-11-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, 'My Winter'
sponsor, Viv Wigley
Third Place
It’s been 5 years since I’ve seen my daddy and he’s going to be here
Here at my 9th birthday party with all my friends and family
I can barely contain the excitement but a little nervous too
So many people waiting for me at the skating rink
All there to celebrate my birthday, everyone there for ME
As I see my daddy I take off running into his arms
And I’m crying and so is he as we embrace each other
We’re both so happy with smiles across our faces
Looking around I see all my friends, their moms and dads
I see my family and for once my mom AND my dad are here too
All waiting for me to blow out my candles and make a wish
But this was my wish to have everyone I love here for me
But then my dad asked to take me to pick out my presents
My mom said no and they both started to yell in front of everyone
Everyone watching and staring at them argue
As I sat in a corner crying because all my dad wanted
Was to take his little girl to get what her heart desired
Mommy whisked me away and daddy never got the chance to say goodbye
Mommy fought to get me in the car as I stared out the back window crying
Wishing I had made that wish when I blew out my candles