"ski" poems
Oh my it is great...
to have this headache...
after trying
to understand
what numbers are real and fake
I don't see
how this will help me
through my course of
life
Will I ever be
trying to see
what the angle of a chair is again?
or will I ever need to use
how to find a hypotenuse?
I've thought and thought
for a very long time
and came up with a list
of jobs that would ever
need algebra
Math teacher
Crazy Math obsessor
Architect
Carpenter
scientist (on occasion)
contractor
Someone who builds triangles
kite maker
someone who makes graphs
salesman/women
Too bad that isn't any of the jobs I ever want...
Algebra...
oh how my head burns
and I'm sorry if you like it
I don't mean to offend
but Algebra just aint my jam
I'd rather be painting
or writing
or singing
I'd rather be strumming(my guitar)
be sleeping
or eating
I'd rather
go play soccer
or basketball
or ski
Really I'd just rather be free
free of the confusion
I feel after class
of the helplessness
that I have
towards math
Oh how am I going to survive???
PS. I still have to live through geometry (I **** at shapes)
pre calculous (I don't even know what that is) and calculous (Ugh ***
I hope you enjoyed my "radical" poem!
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 4:54 PM UTC
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!
17.9k
Road trips with old cars
With ski racks and kayaks
Park and open the sunroof
And we can fall asleep
Gazing up at the stars,
Or at eachother, whichever
Who's up for a long escape?
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 10:38 PM UTC
Distress shows on my face
like atheism in a priest
yet is welcome in my head
like a baby in its crib.
I'm always where I don't belong
always finding myself singing songs with cicadas
I'm always losing my head
And finding myself stuck, still a slave to time
it's time I find so pressing
not some boy's dejection or rejection of my kind words
(in that sense, I can make 101 comparisons
of myself to a rubber ball, always bouncing back)
no, it's time I'm so scared of
it's time that's constantly breaking my heart
when I fall in love at least 32 times in a day
I fall in love with contentment,
with the sunrays that filter through the leaves
of early autumn trees
with the slight lisp
situated between my favorite singer's lips
I fall in love with the milliseconds when
life seems sublime
when I snake my way out of glass,
when the wind dances on the
ski-slope of my nose,
the moon lifting me up
putting pretty words in my head.
Time will always be sure to come and
rob me of these lovers of mine
and so
naturally,
in their passing I am left hollow,
confused,
longing and heartsick for something that no longer exists
but is still very real
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
Contractions are fearful of the
ominous bliss; mighty T Rex.
Now we've reached that time, so classic.
For our lips meet and our hearts ski
under the dim fluorescent light
she smiles, and so too do I.
Ends are beginnings in our sin.
Dancing into the night, we sing.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
Is
For
Skiing in
Winter and
Hillwalking in
Summer, but for
Having fun anytime
Like a nearly impossible
Challenge on the six minute
Planpratz ski-lift requiring you
And your best friend to shed your
Gear and join the mile high club while
Claiming she had the best 30 seconds of
Her life
Or so
I am
Reliably informed.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
I laid there, battered and bruise atop of that cold white blanket, my eyes looking up and the Back of my head pressed firmly down the snow. I took a moment and just paused, mesmerised by the beautiful dark and velvety sky, pelted with starlight. I still remember how “Zen” like that moment felt. It was a time in my life, that I just let go of everything. I felt no care, no anguish or no concern. Moments like those makes one appreciate the little things in life that we all tend to overlook.
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC
It's funny what you do to me, and I know funny.
I go up on stage and tell ****** jokes for a living,
and look super bad *** while doing it.
But now you've got my *** terrified. Paranoid to breathe because I'm afraid it will be my last
and you won't be there to see it.
Yes, it's cliche. But you do have me listening to love songs, you do have me putting on make up,
you do have me running up mountains so I can have a body you can enjoy while we make-
out in your car to Beyonce songs.
You once told me that I "was the more beautiful person to grace this Earth" but Lover, I see your
grace in everything on this Earth.
And snow makes me smile because you like to ski and I'm from Canada so my face hurts
frequently.
Trench mapped hands, a sign of how many battles you've fought and won, how many battles
you've fought and lost, how many times you've picked yourself up off the dirt, smiled at me
and said "I'm fine, are you okay?"
Honestly, I have no idea how the most flawed person in the world, a girl who leaves her wet
towels everywhere, a girl who puts her keys in the same place but manages to forget where
they are, a girl who plays Assassin's Creed for 3 hours without blinking and wears that like a
proud Metal Of Honor, how can that girl make the most perfect person in the work happy?
Answer? I have no clue, but you don't have to cheat on any test, because I'll stay. As long as you
want me to, I'll stay.
Here for you when you get weepy, or angry, or curious to see what we can do behind closed doors.
I won't say "I love you". Not because it's not true. Nothing could be more true. But if I say it, I'll cry,
You'll kiss me, and I can't guarantee what will happen to our clothes after that.
So instead, I'll keep making the "that's what she said" jokes, until you're reminded of snow, or
maps, or breathing.
And I have fallen so hard for you that stone boarders between countries couldn't stop your
gravitational pull.
And like willow tree roots growing into shorelines, I get wetter every time you hold me.
So, I'll send you Steven King length facebook messages everyday.
I'll ring up my phone bill to $500.
Light candles for 3 hour skype dinners.
Because, long distance relationships are hard, but not being able to call you "mine" is excruciating.
Because, it's funny what you do to me.
Because, I love funny.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 2:19 PM UTC
Babies in the microwave
Babies in the oven
Babies in a shallow grave
Babies need your lovin'
Babies smoking cigarettes
Babies cursing with tourette's
Babies in the garbage can
Babies on the ceiling fan
Babies reading Dostoevsky
Babies cruising on a jet ski
Babies naked on the beach
Babies fuzzy like a peach
Babies crying cuz you hurt them
Babies take it cuz they must
Babies lying cuz you hurt them
Babies I will never trust
Babies all of us once were
Babies drooling on the fur
Babies in the soup we stir
Babies life is all a blur.
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 9:25 PM UTC
there was little mouse as happy as can be
he was very sporty and loved to water ski
he would ride the waves from behind a boat
by standing on his skis he would stay afloat
he could turn and spin on his little ski
riding on the waves made him feel so free
he just loved the water and riding on the crest
riding on the waves was what he liked the best
then when he got tired and it was time to rest
he would go to sleep inside his little nest
Apr 24, 2010
Apr 24, 2010 at 6:13 AM UTC
~
Dreaming past snow drifts
Framing the distance
Starlight reflections
Closer than tomorrow
Touching my skin
~
Through soft woolen mittens
Ski jacket hugs, turtleneck wishes
Snow angel dreams and icicle kisses
Slipping my heart inside of your pocket
Where it is warm, safe and secure
~
Calling in echoes
Across the white valley
Listen to the wind
Feel the wintry whispers
Touching your skin
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
I stay awake—
gas,
ion and
tail.
your ghost strokes
my back, fingers
ski-jumping vertebrae
as my face steams into
powder.
your pith, soft and white:
our star in you—
rove to your low neckline in
fire humming comet.
space is blameless in
this limb of heartbreak.
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 12:25 PM UTC
Dear Santa
all i want for Christmas is a penny lover
a women that enjoys the small things in life
the lincolns instead of the benjamins
thrift instead of trendy
peanut butter instead of steak
my bottom shelf written poems instead of polish
the small things in life, Santa
the small things
is that too much to ask for
your gift to me
sans the star spangled spangled
the fireworks
the silver, glitter and confetti
i would endear
can you help me Santa
i dream
i dream real
a simple snowfall
me with her on the bunny trail
doing the bunny hop
later sharing a hot cocoa
borrowing heat, and time
Santa in my dream
i can see my mirror
a pincher
a thinker
wrapped pretty
maybe in ancient ski gear and attire
but together
and maybe in love
santa, in retrospect
i ask for a lot
because my heart would be filled
Merry Christmas
Logan Robertson
12/3/17
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
Ski Jumping
Leaning forward, body parallel to the skis
arms neatly by the side
hands pressed in tight; flat
down the slope he goes into the unknown
flying free
for a few moments
landing as far as he can
then arms aloft in triumph.
How do you begin such a journey?
Armchair bound we are
never to speed down the icy slope
eyes and goggles peering down and down
ready to fly, see the sky.
Yet in a moment we can be there
down the slope in our minds
unburdened from reality
no years of practice or skis to heft
no chance of failure.
We can fly on the ski slope of the mind
an adventure of the imagination
synapses firing neurons glowing
and so let it be with death and life
down the slope jumping, arms aloft
into tomorrow, into the unknown
alone, down the slope, jumping.
Malcolm F. Davidson October 11th 2013
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 8:09 AM UTC
"Gay marriage is not real. It's like trying to get a license to drive a jet ski on the road. It just doesn't work." My theology teacher everybody!
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
there was a little duck a clever duck was he
he just love the snow and he just loved to ski
he took a little trip for a skiing holiday
in the land of austria so very far away
packing up a bag he boarded on plane
sitting by the window to look out of the pane
he was very happy as happy as can be
and all along the mountain tops he could plainly see
he reached his destination and headed for the snow
with his little skis so he could have ago
he climbed up a mountain high up in the sky
then he could ski down again and watch the world go by
swerving in and out with his speed so fast
racing to the bottom till the finish line was passed
going over bumps flying through the air
jumping over everything he really didnt care
he got to the bottom is skiing it was done
it gave him such a thrill and he enjoyed the fun
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
little ollie otter took a trip once more
to somewhere far away to a far off shore
he took a trip to switzerland
he just love to ski
skiing down the mountains he just long to be.
skiing through the snow skiing down the side
with his skiing skill ollie he would slide
he climbed a snowy mountain so he could have a go
ollie he set off sliding through the snow
going very fast on each and every bend
using all his skill till he reached the end
ollie he was happy it gave him such a thrill
he just long to ski down a mountain hill.
ollie he went home his hoilday was done
then fell fast asleep and dreamed of all his fun
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
---
On February 15
a congressman
went out for to ski
never did return that day
he died "hitting a tree"
There was much
blunt force trauma
to the front of his head
elect of California legislature
now Sonny Bono's DEAD
- CHORUS -
Who murdered Sonny Bono?
How did that man die?
Was it all a "ski accident"
or is that just a lie?
Did he have information
of government high ups?
Laundering money for
drugs and guns
doin' things corrupt?
There is an old story
and you know it's true
The Kennedy's were
conspired against
and now Sonny, too.
---
Blunt force trauma
to the skull
but no broken ribs or knees
and no counter coup
to the brain
you don't need an MD
No coroner to tell you
somethin's fishy there
and the back of Sonny's jacket
**had a tell tale tear**
- CHORUS -
You won't see this on TV
It won't be in the news
all the links have been shut down
They have too much to loose
There's only one who's
brave enough
to convey this, you see
and he has had
attempts on his life
for telling you and me
- CHORUS -
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
little spike the hedgehog the sporty type was he
he just loved the water and loved to water ski
pulled behind a boat riding on the crest
riding on the waves this he liked the best.
jumping over ramps high up in the air
people were amazed they would stop and stare
doing little spins this he liked to do
then a little flip with a trick or two
everybody loved him and loved to watch his skill
just to watch the hedgehog gave them such a thrill
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 8:44 AM UTC
clouds grace the mountain
look like rising mist
trying to find space to fit
between the trees and bare ski slopes
waiting for snow
Out of all the seasons it knows
the north seems only to remember
winter
When we go hiking
my aunt reminds me to remember
the weather changes rapidly
while the mountain remains still
Having a sturdy mindset
cannot keep away feeling
From the balcony
rain falls five stories down
today I decide
not to fall with it
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 11:36 PM UTC
the sky sinks its blue teeth
into the mountains.
Rising on pure will
(the lurch & lift-off,
the sudden swing
into wide, white snow),
I encourage the cable.
Past the wind
& crossed tips of my skis
& the mauve shadows of pines
& the spoor of bears
& deer,
I speak to my fear,
rising, riding,
finding myself
the only thing
between snow & sky,
the link
that holds it all together.
Halfway up the wire,
we stop,
slide back a little
(a whirr of pulleys).
Astronauts circle above us today
in the television blue of space.
But the thin withers of alps
are waiting to take us too,
& this might be the moon!
We move!
Friends, this is a toy
merely for reaching mountains
merely
for skiing down.
& now we're dangling
like charms on the same bracelet
or upsidedown tightrope people
(a colossal circus!)
or absurd winged walkers,
angels in animal fur,
with mittened hands waving
& fear turning
& the mountain
like a fisherman,
reeling us all in.
So we land
on the windy peak,
touch skis to snow,
are married to our purple shadows,
& ski back down
to the unimaginable valley
leaving no footprints.
4k
"Stop It!" shouted the man
who was dressed in a ***** pin stripe suit,
eye glasses half askew on his nose,
ski-slope haircut sported since his youth.
My face turned blank, shoulders shrugged
not fearing this man's belligerent outburst
because I was used to it;
it was the hundredth time I felt it's sting.
I stood there, patiently and quiet
caressing my double bass violin
my secret seventh grade lover;
she had **** curves and a deep, soothing voice.
I stood there, impatiently and quiet
waiting for Mr. Heidrich to finish the lesson
focused on the third seat violinist
whom played without feeling, again.
I stood there, overbearingly anxious
tapping on the shoulder of my wooden BFF
my rendition of the William Tell Overture
A performance worthy of a Grammy!
The man in the ***** pin stripe suit,
turned and looked at me, scornfully
his half-bald head turned beet red
body shook violently like an earthquake!
The energy released from his gullet
would have made Mount Vesuvius jealous
fiery vocals of curse and rage
would have made the evilest of demons run for cover!
My face turned blank, shoulders shrugged
not fearing this man's belligerent outburst
because I was used to it;
it was the 101st time I felt it's sting.
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
Nobody got anywhere in this life
throttling bums,
and robbing hotdog vendors,
but a Saquatch eating a knish on top of a flipped bus
is a sight that sticks to the roof of your minds eye.
Let's eat caramel apples down by the seawall,
trade tall tales, and lizard scales,
run for the hills, but settle down in the shadow of the valley.
Prickly pear and agave nectar, nopal cactus fruit,
blended together, you can hardly taste the tequila.
I'll boost you onto the roof, and hand up my guitar,
and you'll help me climb up,
singing and chanting till the sun knocks us off the room,
we'll go pool hopping, with ski masks on,
and steal lawn ornaments,
and eat churros, and drink egg cream.
and kiss under the Brooklyn bridge.
I just gotta go throttle this ***
and rob this hotdog vendor.
If there isn't a sasquatch
I'll be home by the apocalypse.
Then we can get naked,
and set off the sprinkler system,
and dance in the halls.
Until the sun explodes,
and 2+2= 37.
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 4:26 PM UTC
there was little mouse as happy as can be
he was very sporty and loved to water ski
he would ride the waves from behind a boat
by standing on his skis he would stay afloat
he could turn and spin on his little ski
riding on the waves made him feel so free
he just loved the water and riding on the crest
riding on the waves was what he liked the best
then when he got tired and it was time to rest
he would go to sleep inside his little nest
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 9:43 AM UTC