Long Slalom Poems
Long Slalom Poems. Below are the most popular long Slalom by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slalom poems by poem length and keyword.
I notice the single placemat within the circle of noise,
Placing my phone on the cluttered side plate,
I can feel the Christmas spirit resonating through,
The crowd of extended families unwrapping each other’s joy,
A tear drops onto my unused napkin,
My mind races with memories of family togetherness,
The phone reminds me of the unsent WhatsApp messages,
I spot the waiting team slalom through the chairs,
Out of the corner of my eye I notice a waiter offering me the red, white, or rose wine,
I must have blanked out for a quick second or two,
As for some reason I chose the red wine,
I’m not a big fan of red wine,
I notice something unexpected,
A noise behind my ear struck me subtly,
Hesitantly I turn towards the surprising situation,
“Would you like to join us?” A lady to my left asks alongside her children,
Tears flood my unconscious shirt,
“No-one should be on their own” another added “Join us!”
I graciously accept after they make the decision for me,
They share that they are from Lincoln,
As they collectively lift the small square towards their table,
I can’t believe the surge of care that I’m being shown by strangers,
Stories were poured as the red wine wrote the words to a great Christmas Lunch,
I laughed to many a tale about their previous Christmas trips,
Smiles simmer in this cauldron of enjoyment,
The red wine even produced miracles,
Overcooked beef became irrelevant in the cape of chuckles,
To be included in such a positive way, real and not in a forced manner,
Opening the door to showcase the missing piece on the mantle of Christmas,
I’m glad I chose to go down the stairs,
I felt a little overwhelmed by all the morning family togetherness being showcased,
But my faith in humanity has been restored,
As long as the flickering light within the hand of Christmas remains,
I will try my best to rise to most challenges,
As today a small gesture had a hugely heartwarming effect,
A large impact that will not fade in time.
The Seasons
The changing seasons
—winter, spring, summer, and fall—
I love them all.
Variety is said to be the spice of life,
And I enjoy their arrivals and departures,
Each season unique with its own set of characteristics.
Winter presents a choice between cross-country skiing, slalom,
Or tobogganing down a hill; or snowshoeing in the woods;
Or staying warm inside while reading a good book;
Or going for a leisurely drive around town to see the Christmas lights
And enjoy the festive Yuletide merriment.
Spring brings the warm rains that freshen the Earth
When imaginations are set free after the winter pall,
And to lace up the sneakers after a winter spent in the gym
And go jogging outside to feel the wind in your face.
Come spring, love is in the air, and new life is born.
Sunny summer, breezy and warm, fills the days,
Lending decision-making as to whether to go biking or swimming,
Or to laze on the beach relaxing and suntanning,
Or to go boating or canoeing to fish and explore.
Summer is the season to visit kin and rest from work.
Fall is the harvest, whose abundance I’m thankful for,
When leaves change colour and scatter in the wind,
And walks in the forests are a common thing.
The days grow colder and the nights longer
As winter approaches and autumn ends.
Silver threads slalom down hillsides,
Haunts of larks and Munro baggers.
Merging into burbling brooks,
They slide as one,frothing
Over smooth rocks where sheep daintily step.
Little bursts of thunder
Signify cataracts ahead,
Boiling white water.
Greedily the broad sweep of the river
Embraces and swallows its feeders.
Now the passage towards the sea begins
Through towns and cities
Where its strong silent flow
Passes barely noticed
Amid the busy human traffic
Drowned in their private griefs,
Unless it bursts its banks
To intrude upon those lives.
At last it washes into the welcoming ocean
With whom it will share its salty tales.
Jack And Jill Slalom
Jack and Jill went up the snowy hill
To fetch a ride down the slalom trail
In and out of the turns they met a thrill
Like snow bunnies wagging their tail
With each turn thru the banks like a snake
Their skis gather speed faster and faster
Their bed away from home began to shake
And just like that, their ride's a disaster
Jack fell down in a heap of laughter
As he lost his balance in a shady bank
Not to be outdone, Jill came tumbling after
Jack's crown's in pieces, and Jill's heart sank
1/16/23
12 Lines of Rhyme - Winter Nature Themed Poetry Contest
5th
Sponsor-Tania Kitchin
Destiny’s Choices
Do we choose our destiny
or is fate a foregone conclusion,
an ever growing snow ball
an unstoppable collection
of snow flake moments
gaining momentum
conspiring to bury us?
Can we accept destiny’s fate
without acquiescing to it?
Rewrite upcoming scenes
with actions taken,
slalom at the edge
of fates fury, deny
destiny its choice.
If asked to choose our destiny
what would it be, how
would it unfold, where
would it take us, why
would we make those
destined choices?
4/17/2016
submitted to – Destiny or Choices – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Nayda Ivette Negron
i remember now
the sucking whoosh and rattle
of my life
as I was uprooted
still squirming - caught now
in the slalom clutch
of a blood smeared latex glove
a world as cold as a morgue
coagulated around senseless perceptions
a fluent reality that dripped slowly
into clotted forms
for a moment I wallowed
in that instinctual mud
that is both a sacrifice
and a subterfuge
a lamb born not to suckle
but to swallow all before it
if i was aware of anything
other than
my newly crushed heart
it was just the fading echo
of an erstwhile progenitor
either weeping
or laughing
A wear down-
singular slalom in the emotional vortex-
the realism of a realm that doesn't adhere to your biology and doesn't accept the facts at hand,
one does not alter it,
unless screaming for more sanity to arrive-
though we are not sane beings at core,
we had to dig until we all died.
A wear-down,
just something I had to add,
...a little bit of sweat, blood and tears,
alimony,
grapes-
food art and a bridge,
nothing from the start,
no calamity or even Go-kart,
though it's fun to part,
sanctify some of the little divide,
deepening volumes that outlast our lives,
showing the sun we don't come to die.
Seahorses on see-saws prance, sashay and dance
gliding majestically under the sea.
No clip nor clop for this aquatic steed
for no legs adorn its knight-in-armour body.
Instead its fins keep these hippocampus poised
as they gambol gently and frolic about.
But of course it's a horse
with its tell-tale head and mane.
Ignore the odd prehensile tail
that some over-zealous strapper coiled.
It's a special horse for an undersea course
swirling and whirling silently
through seaweed strap slalom gates.
With no trot, nor canter, nor gallop, nor panting,
but with a leisurely pace in ambling gait,
like the painted horses on a merry-go-round,
the seahorse is forever poised,
in true dressage collection.
Inspired by “Poems and Poets” by Anne Winter
“For once in my life,
I want to be a poem” — Anne Winter
If I were a poem
could my poem be a poet?
If such could be done
who besides me would know it?
If my poem—as a poet—wrote something new
could I as a poem be the other poem too?
Or would I simply exist on a document list
along with other poems that coexist?
(As a poem I would be …)
Living on the edge of poetry forms’ parameters
Running ever changing rapids of trochees and iambs
Line dancing varied rhythms of iambic pentameters
da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM ad infinitum
Dancing two-step footles with the poem of my dreams
Braving slalom ski runs of Klein’s Vase Verse
Climbing lofty peaks of Heroic Crown of Crowns
Then doing it all over again in reverse
(I do have a poetic license you know …)
I think of such thoughts from time to time
when my muse is confused and obtuse
Especially when finding it hard to rhyme
my head flooded with thoughts most abstruse
What would it take for me to be a poem
vice versa my poem to be poet?
The very next time my muse starts to roam
I’ll try to find out—don’t you know it!