olymp.

olymp.

A Poem by h d e rushin

 

 

44% of gold medal recipients sing

along with their national anthem.

13% cry.

 

Most of the women cry;

I need to figure out what this means.

 

Does it mean that I shouldn't

cry if I run up the icy steps

 

or lift the cat box, heavy with pee?

Or laugh the anamorata laugh

 

when I stretch my elbows out

or brush the hairs on the side of my head

 

contrary to age

as if the wind blew me bakwards?

 

And how can I wave at Dad with

his bones fertilizing the hills?

 

And what can be syncronized

about mix-matched socks

 

or the mouse I tried to stomp

or the baleful ink-pens

 

that hide from me when the lesson

is profound?

 

In my bathroom, where all beauty is,

bathos as a soft sheer fabric,

 

the silk leaf that holds

all medals

hold my soap on a rope.

© 2012 h d e rushin


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

this is such an intimate homage to frailty...it answers questions in tangents and hyperboles streaming from the softest parts of the heart. There aren't a great many poets that will invite you through a tour of their bathroom. And when they do, you wish you had something more profound or courageous or eloquent to say, and you hope they don't mistake your impotent voice for rudeness.

Posted 12 Years Ago


"And how can I wave at Dad with
his bones fertilizing the hills?" Thought that was such an enigmatic expression, also loved the baleful ink-pens which hide from your profound lessons. Such great writing, and I can't believe this only has one review. It deserves more notoriety than that. I liked this in its entirety. Great job.

Posted 12 Years Ago


Shmoke-Sifted Heftlander

12 Years Ago

in my defense I've read it a few times. I love that line too
haha.

So weird. I was browsing new poetry (something I rarely do) and saw the stats, then I saw it was your piece. So I was like oh...

Line is I like are "And how can I wave at dad... hills" and the following socks line.

I think the beginning was very grabbing to me, but it lost me for awhile after that.

The line Most of the women cry caught me, but the following three/four lines seemed like it lost whatever power (and it doesn't have to be serious power, it could have been joke power) was built with that beginning. Then the laugh and the rest is good.

Posted 12 Years Ago



Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

83 Views
3 Reviews
Rating
Added on August 10, 2012
Last Updated on August 10, 2012

Author

h d e rushin
h d e rushin

detroit, MI



About
black american poet living in detroit. more..

Writing
Short- Short-

A Poem by h d e rushin