"sledging" poems
Cold temperatures
deep snow
there goes a coach
but in the morning...
Skiing,snowboarding sledging
snowball fights warm pools warm sauna
a happy life above the clouds
Sep 7, 2013
Sep 7, 2013 at 12:14 PM UTC
This feeling...
Heavy...
Like a wreath bearing down my neck.
Every fibre in me seem to be at loggerheads.
My heart...
Pounding.
Each beat is a hammer
sledging away at my saneness.
My breaths...
Premature and short.
Inconsistent.
I respire full but with punctured lungs.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 12:14 PM UTC
Let me tell you about Drew Barrymore:
First of all, she got an early start on self-awareness,
To wit: her breakout role as Gertie in
Steven Spielberg's E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial,
And quickly became one of Hollywood's
Most recognized child actresses,
Going on to establish her self to this freaking day.
From wit: Yeah, sure, she got an early start,
She literally grew up inside her movies.
And if we had ever had a
Shirley Temple of our own generation,
Drew is it.
Simply put:
Drew is sweetness personified.
N'est-ce pas?
But Habitat Hollywood needed more,
Must dwell on the Barrymore name,
Pounding that angle,
Sledging the dynastic anvil,
Forging consensus:
It’s in her genes.
It’s that sangue royale,
It’s in her blood.
All those Fairbanks & Randolphs,
Harrisons & Blyths,
Palazzoli & Giofredi . . . ***
That’s where you get your looks,
You little guinea ****
That olive oil & garlic,
Enhancing that gilded
Barrymore Blood!
It must have been an
Early pink thrill for you, Drew,
Seeing all those
Doors spread wide open--
Widespread like a ****** legs--
Career barrier walls,
Inhibitions crumbling.
What a pleasant realization!
“I am a member of a
Multi-Generation
Theatrical Dynasty.”
And going even further back than
John, Ethel & Lionel, Babaloo.
We’re talking the British Stage here,
We’re talking Legitimate Theater,
As in: Tread those boards, GB Shaw!
Which brings me to my point:
Drew’s had a long time to get over
That Diva
(Louie Prima) Donna thing.
She knows who she is.
She’s comfortable out here,
Way out here in the
So-called real world.
Out a monk’s her environment at-large.
Query: heredity or environment?
Always.
To wit: It was always
Her habitat doing the molding--
From Wit: *******
It’s in her ****** DNA.
In her freaking genes:
Which is precisely
Where I’d like to be right now,
My cherished,
My sweet Drew:
In your freaking jeans.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
Addiction is
My something bitter
My something sweet
An unholy nightmare
I partly love
But mostly hate
My happiness ripped away
Like cement from a building
I cannot move
For inside out
I am crumbling
All around me my house is collapsing
As I find myself wide open
Standing in the rain
Which keeps falling
Just need a little more numbing
As I am bound to my body
Like an Egyptian mummy
A fight I can not win
Give me another
Another drink
Another pill
Another line
I am not sure
If I can even tell
The difference anymore
A vacuum under my feet
Where floor boards
Once met
My self esteem gone
A diminishing will that
Once stood like a mountain
Is now just empty Canyon
I am Sledging in the snow
Sliding down a mountain
But some how all
My joy has gone
My desire dissolving
Into a glass as
My heart has given in
As I fall into a drain
Humiliated I feel
As I escape into another pill
As I am truly conquered
But not by a great army
Just my weak will
Slipping to my death
In quicksand I am sinking
And all I think is
Is Spar Open
Skidding on black ice
I can see I am about to crash
But I can not even flinch
Just have another drink
As I take another dive
If only there was
Something inside of me
That could say
Lets stay a Live
Then maybe I could pull
Myself
Out of this
My unholy nightmare
I partly love
But mostly hate
My something bitter
My something sweet
But mostly I hate
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
Mountain slopes clad in snow,
plains and paths covered in snow,
sloping roofs layered with snow,
tall pine trees sprayed with snow,
and fallen pine cones enveloped in snow.
There’s a calm but eerie stillness
and all over - an innocent and pure whiteness
stretching as far as the eyes can see.
The street, the sidewalk, the children’s park -
all covered by a white carpet.
In the diffuse sunlight
the whiteness does completely reflect.
Little kids leave tiny footprints
on the carpet of snow.
They indulge in snowball fights
from the top of the slide and below.
Red, blue, yellow, orange and green
Snowsuits, mittens and caps
are everywhere seen.
Older children go sledging
on the steep white slopes
on colorful sledges dotting the snowy terrain.
The air is fresh, crisp and cold
Whiteness, whiteness everywhere; behold!
In the midst of all the fun and mirth
Let’s thank Heaven for whitewashing the Earth.
Gita Ashok
9/10/2010, 3 pm
Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 1:53 AM UTC
Spurts of ***** colour tear
The frozen mountain white.
Human dust of little kids
Gargling through the night.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
Dear Carl,
Can I call you Carl?
Our unconscious is collective and a lake of shared experience.
Is the internet an instance of your theories?
I have some queries.
Are these the facts Carl?
Our reflections are collected in a cloud of pooled intelligence.
Is the aggregate a marker of our species?
I have some theses.
Are these our thoughts Carl?
Our enquiries through our browsers hint a dull and cloudy somnolence.
Is the synthesis the same by demographic?
Is this just traffic?
Is this our worth Carl?
Our reprovals and our sledging smacks of asinine belligerence.
Can we speculate more broadly from this sample?
Trolls, for example…
We all have separate phenotypes,
made up of common archetypes,
that form a unique prototype,
for human contribution.
The flavour of each megabyte,
requires an active acolyte,
that gives objective oversight,
to tally the solution.
But what about the eloquence,
beneficence, benevolence,
the sympathetic sentience,
within this cyber-netting?
And what of interinfluence,
of conscious counterviolence,
considered, caring, congruence,
of giving more than getting?
Are you happy Carl?
Your proposals once ethereal now digitally real
—the collection of our thoughts a cyber-consciousness reveal.
Sure, we focus on crash diets, haircuts, shoes, and plastic surgery.
We are more than just a vessel for the latest celeb pregnancy.
These excuses for connection are a cybernetic basis,
for the comfort and affection found across our networked spaces.
While the electronic camera snaps the shadow and insanity,
it also frames our kindness in the brilliance of humanity.
I think it’s fine, Carl.
Sincerely,
Jill
Aug 21, 2024
Aug 21, 2024 at 9:25 PM UTC
Wrapped around with electric fire
spewing out the storage heater.
I have to pay someone whom I have never met
a quarterly bill getting larger by the minute.
Oh for the freedom of a child who knows nothing of the World
save butterflies and flowers all summer long
and snowmen in the midst of winter
while sledging down the hill.
Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 6:36 AM UTC
This ***** in my chest hammers
Sledging away at my ribcage
I can feel the shallow breaths enter my body but they somehow fail to reach my starving lungs
My punctured windpipe only delivering a whisper of oxygen
I can hear everything yet as the sound waves reach my ears it just turns into an incessant buzz
My eyes go out of focus and the world around me becomes a blur
I'm completely removed from my senses and everything that held me to reality is suddenly gone
Frantically I grasp for anything to keep me grounded but as my breath quickens and my heart thuds
The fear erupts and every coping mechanism I've memorized is lost in a sea of suffocating thoughts
Gasping for air as my adrenaline spikes and all fight in me collapses
Flight is the only option now but there is nowhere to go
All the walls are constricting tighter and tighter incasing me within
and I can't stop this panic that is just starting to begin
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 12:17 AM UTC
We been sledging in the snow
Kids all shouting GO GO GO
Up and down the hill we run
Laughing as we have our fun
Sliding on the snow so fast
Wishing it will always last
Dec 20, 2022
Dec 20, 2022 at 6:00 AM UTC