The Skiers Poem

SCOO-WOOP

SCOO-WOOP

Active member
Patience is a man’s greatest virtue,
or so the saying goes.
A skier must have said it,
For a skier surely knows,
That in this funky sport of ours
Discouragement runs high,
And at times the very best will find
This virtue’s passed them by.
When legs are bruised and throbbing
When every rail can be slayed no more,
Can a skier still have patience
To lap the park once more?
When you’ve lost old tricks you used to stomp,
And progress seems so slow,
Can you still have faith in better days
And not feel sad and low?
Can you admit you’re frightened,
Yet not give in to fears?
Can you conquer pain, frustration,
And often even tears?
When someone else stomps a trick
You’ve tried so long to do,
Can you really feel glad for them?
And not just pity you?
When success seems far away,
Your efforts all in vain,
can you force yourself to wear a smile,
And disregard the pain?
If despite the tribulations,
You can say “I want to learn that kang!”
Maybe someday you’ll discover,
That it’s now your turn to afterbang.
 
read this on here a few years ago, don't know the orginal writer but they are talented,

Who am I

or anyone

To hide the pain of the world

beneath snow?

To see everything through rose-colored goggles?

To be joyous and happy, satisfied and content

While so many others will never

touch the snow, or know

What it feels like to be free

I think we wait for winter

because we see the bare earth covered

I think the reason I can’t sit still

is that no one is meant to deal

with reality without escape

Just as the boulder field becomes a pillow line

And verdure forest floor becomes a white carpet

To be happy, we must pad our reality

Make jagged edges smooth

Be able to float while dragged down

We cannot see the world forever as bare

Like seasons, each view deserves it’s due

But to live to see it bare again

Snow must cover it anew
 
I like it.
In response....
The snow melts on the mountain
And the water runs down to the spring.
And the spring in a turbulent fountain,
With a song of youth to sing,
runs down to the riotous river,
and the river flows to the sea,
and the water again goes back in rain
to the hills where it used to be.

And I wonder if life’s deep mystery
isn’t much like rain or snow
Returning through all eternity
to the places it used to know.
For life was born on the lofty heights
and flows in a laughing stream,
to the river below whose onward flow ends in a peaceful dream.
And so at last,
when our life has passed, and the river has run its course,
It again goes back,
Over the selfsame track,
to the mountain which was its source.

So why prize life,
Or why fear death,
Or dread what is to be?
The river ran
Its allotted span
Till it reached the silent sea.
Then the water harked back
to the mountain-top
To begin its course once more.
So we shall run,
the course begun
Till we reach the silent shore.
Then revisit earth
In a pure rebirth…
From the heart of the virgin snow.

So don’t ask why
we live or die,
or whither or when we go,
or wonder about the mysteries,
that only Shane McConkey may know.
 
not about skiing but whatever.
StartFragmentPut a face on it. Everything you comeacross puts up a front, a face to show the world, a facade with a smile. But Idon’t have a face. It is by no means some emotional, misunderstood, traumatizedcry for help. But nonetheless I am still faceless. I walk and people see me butthey do not see a face. They attempt to avoid or cover up seeing what theythink others cannot. It may be the closest thing to an organic representationof the soul that you can get. The most beautiful, breathtaking and heartwrenching experience that anyone will ever have to having asked and answered every question they could have. Want to know how to get thatconfidence that you have always been missing? I will tell you how. Do you wantto live your life to the fullest without any regrets? I will tell you how. But still they judge, question,belittle and for what? to try and satisfy this fleeting self absorbed notionthat everyone around is in fact better then me, this face. Its odd but everyonethinks that they have seen me although I am always changing, trying to keep upwith the latest fads although little good it does. They still pretend that theydon’t know who I am. It hurts. A fleeting glimpse is often all that Iwill ever receive, never a smile or a nod of approval. Am I so undeserving?.Sometimes I’ll wear a new outfit to try and get their attention, but it neverlasts long. I’m never good enough. Perhaps they think that I won’t know whatthey have gone through, but I do… They try and avoid me all they want, walk a differentway to class but I’m not the one they are avoiding. Ill still be a constant intheir life whether they like it or not SO HA! All I have is one request beforethey hustle off with a brush of their hair or a shake of their shirt. Look atme, I mean REALLY look at me and you will see more beauty than you ever thoughtpossible. You are beautiful. Mirror.
Its not meant to be emo just a lesson that I wish more younger kids knew.EndFragment
 
If there ever was a winter without snow

and the sun shined on the grass that showed

no pow, no back country

no park or steezzzzz

...no place to go and put on his skis

jeff would sit in his room and cry,

he would curse the world and anger the skies

but all that fell was a warm summers rain

that dampened his heart and burned his...brain

jeff would speak calmly and say:

"fuck my life, fuck this rain"

My buddy wrote this for me hahaha
 
I would like to add this poem thread to my threads,

because my threads are thready threads.

just wrote that........... my threads.
 
O yea I made this a while back, so I thought I'd just post it :p

A passion, a lifestyle a way of self expression,

If were not able to do it we will get an depression.

It’s something that separates us from the gapper hordes that fill our slopes.

If were not able to do it you might as well hang us to the ropes.

we love this shit people call skiing, and very view understand our passion

so very view understand our pain if we have to miss a sick session.

But everytime were out there we take risks, no pain no gain,

But getting’ an injury fucked up all your plans so you can flush those down the drain.



It gave you a meanin’ a reason to wake up and to keep continue breathin’

It gave you a fuckin’ reason to stay alive and fight all the crap that comes with living.



But not being able to ski, is not being able to live,

So can’t you tell I’m hurting massive.

I dulled the pain by breaking shit and feeling sorry for myself.

I relaxed the anxieties of my pain with heavy drinking and self pity.



I don’t wanna become a nobody that’s not what I’m meant to be,

Sitting at home doing nothing was never what I planned for me.

So fuck this shit I’m gonna get back up and be stronger than ever,

Fixing my knee and gettin’ better that’s what’s important so I’m gonna be clever.

Its hard I know, but shit happens and you have to get over it,

That’s what I tell myself so I don’t quit.

Recovery is gonna take a while but I’m going for it,

And I wont quit…
 
i make the leapi beep the jeepi huck myselfim like an elf
i run aroundi pound the groundim ready to throwi feel the flow
i sit back downi cruise the towni chug a beeri have no fear
and stuffho huff
.............
 
Laid back like the B-Dog.

Right hand blunted,

Nose taps upon a bare log.

Masked man appears

Through the snow fog,

The pow chasing him,

Like a police dog.

Skis carve left

Off the tall lip.

Corks 10s, japans,

And a double flip.

This is Nimbus,

And The MASSIVE hip.

This is urban

With it's falls and shit.

This is disturbing,

Like Chad's last hit.

This is uplifting

Like the game-winning hit.

This is skiing.

This is certainly real.

This is freeing,

With the power to heal.

This is revealing

Of the inner steel,

That some possess

But may never feel.

This is more than a hobby,

This is my perfect fit.

I often get the urge

When through trees I slip

To yell the words

"I Live for this!"
 
Sick session

As we get progressively larger

Jump lines

Like the order of secession.

We beat the hard times

This makes us happy

Forget about the sad shit

Like the VT and Columbines.

They asked me to join the real world

But I declined.

I see no better way than the fall line

It is dangerous but fun by design.

See the dark grey roll in

See it as a good sign.

When other bitch about summer's end

I can't even try to pretend

That I am even remotely sad

About the flakes soon to descend.

The rain falls outside

And they recommend.

Traction tires advised

And be well on your way to zen.

It's gonna be a long drive

But until then,

Listen to some music

And kill it with my good friends.
 
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