Long Piste Poems
Long Piste Poems. Below are the most popular long Piste by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Piste poems by poem length and keyword.
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 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!
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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
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.
JUST BECAUSE
I felt it, yet I really cannot explain
There, it just happened once again
A burning desire to clap and cheer
But hold on, there is nobody here
Perhaps I’m starting to go off piste
I should take a deep breath at least
Why am I stupidly waving this flag
My hope of sanity is starting to sag
It is as if I am celebrating an event
But no crowd, no stage, nor a tent
My smile must appear a rictus grin
Something is making my head spin
Standing alone in this muddy field
Odd behaviour, my future’s sealed
I see no cause for joyful expression
Maybe I’m due for my next session
I stopped myself as I began to shout
Their advice is always to let it all out
This is a fantasy like the Land of Oz
You ask me why, well, just because