Best Piste Poems
The temperature dropped by six degrees,
snow now carpets the ground and tall fir trees.
I adore wintry days such as these,
and dash to the shed with my bunch of keys
then ferret around and find my old skis.
I hurry inside out of the chill breeze
then dress in my waterproof dungarees -
if I fall over they may save my knees!
My friends live nearby, they're from overseas
they’re superb skiers I’ve seen their expertise.
They have a sweet dog he’s a Pekingese –
he can’t come here as he’s covered in fleas,
and my allergy to dogs makes me sneeze!
We meet at the ski slope, I feel at ease;
on climbing to the top I start to wheeze -
my friends laugh at me, they are such a tease!
Monorhyme Contest
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02~12~17
Foot on the gas
No time to slow down
Paddling harder
Not wanting to drown
Reaching for oxygen
Atmosphere's thinner
Still in the race
Eat the dust of the winner
Adventure not waining
For some skiing off piste
Soulful confessions?
Time to contact a priest
There's life in the old dog
Though the snow on the roof
Offers no clue
To the internal youth
Life can't be frantic
Should be leisured, not hurried
We're meant to be rested
Not hastened or worried
So whatever the day brings
It's a gift to be treasured
Your age is just numbers
Not how life should be measured
My gift of life is steadily tock-ticking along
Why give me strife? Regularly gone missing or wrong
Heard my first gasp for breath
Learnt dry thirst grasp for breast
Wrapped in cloth, Felt protected
As tick and stop now directed.
No hour is safe to dream
from the nerve shredding howls
The power it takes to clean
those black pudding bowels
The horrors of weaning a baby
you gotta clean me, you made me.
Sometimes I lose all patience
I want the Solitaire-y life
At times refute relations
I haven't got a wife
Irresponsibility pray for me, I reach to be one of the boys
Responsibility plays on me, I rush to pick up the boys.
Solemnly, Sloppily, Slaloming whatever life may throw
If only I'd chopped my salami then, or if the wife had blown
Why I forgot to tie the knot
I've got the tip, I'll get it snipped.
Life, Life, God what it all must mean
Child, Wife, Job little time to just dream
Between the food and the rent
Seems zero hours are duly spent
To juggle bills and credit cards
Struggle still to get that car.
Quite piste off, I wish life was a beach
Night switch off, I wish, mine's outta reach
Turn the wine into cash
Burn the vine sprinkle ash
Now I doubt a vegetarian could make those ends meet
How about Carl Sagan would be amazed by this feat.
It all sounds nearly mystic
Turns out 's really simplistic
Don't look down I fear you'll miss it.
Yes today is unshrouded, here in the present
Yesterday was also, yet somehow it isn't
I know how it will be tomorrow too
The moment of Now is a gift we borrow you.
Freedoms an Illusion, they say time is your captor
Reason got Ruined, always tryin' to catch ya.
30/03/2016
Aniay USA ka lamok nga miduol kanako
Naghinayhinay ang iyang tingog
Apan ako lang kining gepasagdian
Nagpuyo ra kini tapad kanako
Sa dihang nakita ko ang akong gihigugma
Siya nga wa ma ako og ako nga wa ma iya
Pero siya ang kinasingkasing kong kalipay
Unta ako muduol pero naunhan sa lamok nga ge atay
Sa dihang minglayo na ang lamok kanako
nagkakusog ang tingog miini
Deay to ningtugdon og ga palibot kanimo
IMO kining ge warawarahan
Apan ako imo lang ge snob.ban
Ug sa pagduol niini kanimo
Mas gitagad mo pa sya kaysa nako
Nakabati ko ug kasakit
Bisan og wala ko gepahit
Samtang ga lupad-lupad ang bigaon nga lamok
Wa ko kasabot ngano kana imong kakuyog
Bisan naay mas tarong sa duol
Adto hinuon ka sa insekto kaysa nako nga perpekto
Piste kasakit
Ms Jo Hanley-Dunne, Ms Jo Hanley-Dunne,
varnished and tarnished by Val d’Isere sun.
The sway of your hips, the power to stun
brings promise of love and nights filled with fun.
Oh dazzle me, Goddess, you Queen of the Slopes;
a Mistress of Moguls, oh show me the ropes.
You’re someone who’s keen and someone who copes;
you fill me with lust, you stimulate hopes.
I know that you cook with consummate ease;
I know that you dive, alone, if you please.
Your place in the sun is large, Portuguese,
and far from your yacht, you wind-surf the breeze.
So join me, dear Venus, off piste, on a run,
then tell me, my love, your heart, have I won?
Oh! Rapturous joy. My courtship is done.
I’m going to live with Ms Jo Hanley-Dunne.
~
For John Heck's Competition.
Ah such breasts, as smooth white silk
to my lips they taste as cream,
off-piste slopes, to nipple’s milk,
when I kiss, your face does beam,
comes your passion, comes your scream
How can richness be defined?
Is it sipped in slender
long stemmed glasses in
trendy Sloane Square bars?
Or dripped in diamond sparkles
on thick pile carpets in Dubai.
Is it counted in the counting houses
of the affluent and wealthy,
or is it sliced by the cosmetic knives
of the 'fabulously healthy'?
Maybe swimming in Caribbean seas
or skiing on the piste,
or by deliberately ignoring
those who have the least?
Wearing Gucci sunglasses as
we visit those in need, and
pick a place for photographs
which hides our selfish greed.
How can it be that so many people
seem to miss the point?
Living shallow lives in search of
egotistical fulfillment.
Collecting material possessions
in their earthly suitcases and
hoping excess baggage charges
won't apply on their heavenward journey.
Remove the 'shades' and see.
Wake up and smell the Latte.
Stop searching for outward gratification
and listen to you heart:
for there is where the wealth lies
in compassion and humility.
When love burns deep within you.
When your soul awakes refreshed.
When your search for wealth resides
within, you'll find eternal rest.
THE MOUNTAIN
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The mountain shimmers.
Morning sun.
A snowdrift glimmers.
Shadow fun.
As the sun rises,
a strong wind
blows in surprises!
Warm air kind.
No wind chill, thawing.
Snow melting.
Avalanche warning!
All daunting.
Those that did not heed?
All now dead!
How many hearts bleed?
“Sorries”, said.!
The mountain cares not!
Day after?
Frozen all forgot.
New laughter!
Life moves on, new day.
Piste? Perfect!
Skiers, ski away,
None object!
The mountain shimmers.
Morning sun.
A snowdrift glimmers.
Shadow fun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
5-3 Definition:
A poem consisting of an odd number of quatrains (16 lines or more)
I have no idea if this form has been otherwise named if you know please advise.
Alternating lines of 5 and 3 syllables, where lines 1 and 3consist of an IAMB and an ANAPEST da-DUM da-DUM-da, lines 2 and 4 consist of a DACTYL
DUM-da-DUM
Each stanza uses individual rhyme pattern –abab
where the b-rhymes are always feminine rhyme
The first stanza is a refrain, repeated as the final stanza.
Form:
~~~~~~~~
climate change... killing
spring bees... spiders many flies
early nesters starve
once joy the seasons...
the charm of springs overture...
winter defies it...
today... house sparrows
seen nesting... nature wishes...
hopeful they succeed...
grass... verdant... growing...
hedgerows holding back... afraid...
full spring biding time
jet stream...rioting
lost its way... meandering
disturbing nature
the hill piste lingered
children smiled... sledging... what fun
comes the rain... flooding
hot then cold weather
flu viruses all favor...
hope you had your jab...
don't stop feeding birds...
wild mammals too... squirrels nuts...
rats... mice... wildfowl grain
wintertime walking...
shush... have your camera ready
seen... a snowy owl
lincolnshire
just in case one thinks i've jumped
the north atlantic
~~~~~~~~~
"Oh that this too,too solid flesh would thaw
And resolve itself into a dew"
Water slips through our fingers ,so fresh and sweet
Yet a solid mass will smash all before it
Where scree sits,solid on the slopes,
Dislodged it will sweep down,wave after wave,
A sea of stones
That blanket of snow off piste lying still
Shudders into life thundering
With oceanic power
Drowning all in its path
How solid is cold metal until molten
And then its white hot stream
Spits and scalds and settles
Into its mould
Falling snow, beauty belies its hidden dangers!
White-veiled mountains can be a threat to all below,
But on the day the inviting piste, it's splendours!
Skiers, see the sparkle in their eyes, they love the snow!
They jump from mounds, landing in a great snow flurry!
Slamon round the mounds, snow flying, friends cheer them on!
Then there's tobogganers, always in a hurry!
Snowboarders, somersaulting, an exhibition!
Dusk, the piste brilliantly lit, skiers enchanted.
They no longer ski alone, shadowed company.
Downhill runs ending with a party, some canted
Party ending all happy, no one got frumpy!
Next day, goodbyes all done and dusted, flying home.
Still, snowing flight cancelled, oh well no one complained.
Sadly the snow, heavy, piste closed, hear them all moan!
The next day, avalanches and worse for them rained!
Form:
Off
the piste-
I turn back
The smile of a woman in the spring is prettier
Than the dancing glow of the yellow tulips of the pond
As said the other: her face is embellished and polished
With honey syrup. She really has a charming smile.
Oh! Spring, the most beautiful of the four seasons
It's majestic to see her wearing yellow
The color of hope, the pretty color of the harvest
The petals are sparkling in the air and the bells are buzzing.
No, it's not a dream, she's really beautiful
She is wearing a smile that inspires and blemishes
Men who love everything that is gorgeous and classic.
This woman has her hands intertwined on her right thigh
Like a model who is cheered on the runway, which is reserved
For the most beautiful women in the history of our planet.
P.S. Translation of 'Le Sourire Radieux D'Une Femme" by Hebert Logerie
Copyright © May 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Le Sourire Radieux D'Une Femme
Le sourire d'une femme au printemps est plus joli
Que le reflet dansant des tulipes jaunes de l'étang
Comme a dit l'autre: son visage est enjolivé et poli
Avec du sirop de miel. Elle a vraiment un sourire charmant.
Oh! Printemps, la plus belle des quatre saisons
Cela fait grand plaisir de la voir coiffée en jaune
Couleur de l'espoir, jolie couleur de la moisson
Les pétales pétillent dans l'air et les cloches chantonnent.
Non, ce n'est pas un rêve, elle est vraiment magnifique
Elle est vêtue d'un sourire qui inspire et qui fait soupirer
Les hommes qui aiment tout ce qui est beau et classique.
Cette femme a les mains entrelacées sur sa cuisse droite
Comme un mannequin qu'on applaudit sur la piste réservée
Pour les plus belles femmes de l'histoire de notre planète.
Copyright © May 2018, Hébert Logerie, Tous droits réservés
Hébert Logerie est l'auteur de plusieurs livres de poésie.
theistic silence or heavenly peace ~ pray for both going off-piste
Soaring through the snowy week in glamorous attire
King of the Alpine traversing ski empire
In-bounds, snowploughing towards the opening glades
Innards begin to weaken, dignity fades
Naked snow adorned with last night's feast
Green run renamed – "Innards off-Piste"
Date: 19/01/23
Skiing Acrostic Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward