Lot's of good things happening. Jeremy Grant and I (The Rubber Brothers--percussion and poetry) opened for the Dave Bidini book reading event at the Alton Mill yesterday afternoon. A great time was had by all. And...I organized the audience into a poetry writing jag (collected their scribblings and shaped them into a poem) so that together we created the Great Canadian Hockey Poem. This is what we came up with:
Dreams
Live Forever
Dreams live forever
dad and me on a Saturday
night
where cold meets warm at
the edge
of the rink
at the edge of the hot
chocolate cup
cold seeping into bones
frozen feet and numb
fingers
sitting on the bench
putting rink boards up
the echo of the puck
hitting the boards in an
empty rink
I love hockey
it makes me happy
soggy hot dogs and
stinky popcorn
my couch coach father
and our Saturday night
imperative
skates on ice, sticks on
puck, the big hit
(but please, no fights)
Hull Hall Harvey Howe
the 4-H club
Johnny Bower, Tim
Horton, Dave Keon
(because I wrote a
speech about him in 7th grade)
I loved the edge
catching, ankle twisting hurts
the bulrushes up the ice
fogged over in the
morning light
oh, and
my father tying my
skates
the smell of gloves
fights on the ice
fights in the stands
hey, and no helmets
no mouthguards
toothless
like a 7-year-old-child
but macho
like smelly brothers
after a game
and thank god for
sweet smelling, nose
saving, Febreeze-fresh hockey bags
leather goalie pads and
sweat
and the thrill of the
first Leafs game in Maple Leaf Gardens
And clear the track,
here comes Shack
the arc of shaved ice on
a sudden stop
See, I was at the big
game
3-1 Leafs over the Habs,
1967
and Keon winning the
Conn Smythe
a part of history
Jubilation in Canadian
Pride
and I loved shinny
and I remember my old
gear
“Make sure you hang it
up.”
It’s all about the dream
that I’m the one with
the puck
back and forth
momentum changes
exploding into a
breakaway
bodies banging
sliding gliding sweeping
swooshing around the ice
and crack went the stick
to the puck
oomph, crash, shoulders
hurt
But we love the game
that’s why we think
it’s worth the stench of
the hockey bag stink
because dreams live
forever
and well
it’s kept the guys out
of trouble
Cheers!
1 comment:
I could just hear you read this, Harry. Brought back lots of memories for me. Listening to Hockey Night in Canada around our pot bellied stove in the country. And also turned ankles and cold fingers at the make- shift rink at the community hall. Thanks.
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