My attitude on skis is different now. I have learned to put less pressure on myself and on the edges of my skis when I'm racing, to be keep myself more under control.
quote by Hermann Maier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Skiing
Why is it I can't ski?
When all that my instructor keeps saying is ‘benz za knees'
I ‘benz za knees' I hold my poles
Hoping this will help me go faster and not slow
Now the only thing that worries me that I know
Are my skis do not go where I want them to go
My knees are bent, I'm in the groove
I try to turn but the skis don't move
As I hold my breath I imagine what happens next
Either I go round this bend or crash and break my neck
Somehow I make it with just a snow flake to spare
Now I can breathe again - the fresh mountain air
But no sooner had I drawn my breath and unclenched my teeth
I notice my skis are far too wide underneath
With my eyes bouncing up and down like demented fleas
I try to focus but my mind feels as though it has turned to cheese
It's not looking good I must say
Compared to this morning I thought it'll turn out to be a perfect day
Not so - and here it must end
Did I make it or go straight and miss the bend?
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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No, we always had something to do because I did all the wave runners and jet skis and boats approaching the atolls and stuff like that, so you could do that without showing the actual atoll or the set that you're going towards, but detailing all those guys racing towards it.
quote by David R. Ellis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Color Of Snow
For David Karetsky (April 14, 1940-March 12, 1991) , killed in an avalanche
Putting the skis down
in the white snow,
the wind singing,
the blizzard of time
going past your eyes,
it is a little
like being snowed in
in the Connecticut house
on a day when the world
goes away
and only the white dog
follows you out
to make fresh tracks
in the long blue shadow
of the mountain.
We are all halfway there,
preferring not
to think about it.
You went down the mountain
first,
in a blaze of light,
reminding us
to seize our lives,
to live with the wind
whistling in our ears,
and the light bedazzling
the tips of our skis
and the people we love
waiting in the lodge below
scribbling lines
on paper the color
of snow,
knowing there is no
holding on
but only the wind singing
and these lines of light
shining
in the fresh snow.
poem by Erica Jong
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Like Hotcakes
they're too many
like hotcakes?
unlike hotcakes,
they do not sell
nobody is buying
no one is getting rich
no one is taking
everyone is simply giving in
giving up
and out and
weary.
someone out there has to change
the motif,
merry colors of pink and yellows
and lighter shades of blue
apron clothes and jumpers
short hair and
pouting lips,
got to change somehow
to something loud and faster
the rhythm of cycles racing to the finishing line
skis grating slicing ice
monotonous sounds of the waves on the shore
still rocks.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You know something that would really make me applaud A guy gets stuck in quicksand, then sinks, then suddenly comes shooting out, riding on water skis How do they do that
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Head South
A surf rock man from the land of plenty
Surf rock mess with no surf but pine trees
Struck by being ashamed of your old space
Just wanting that meaning
You bleached your hair
And you pawned your skis
And then you sold out for the
Shade of the palm tree scene
And said, of what a drag!
Oh what a backwards scheme,
Cuz here things go from grey
To grey and back to grey again
And they get green and go to grey
And back to grey again
So he said, head south! [x12]
Struck by being ashamed of your old space
Just wanting that (meat? )
You bleached your hair
And you pawned your skis
And then you sold out for the
Shape of the palm tree scene
Surrounded, cut off jeans
And cut off jeans and cut off
Jeans are what you mean
When you say, head south! [x12]
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nils Finn
Now little Nils Finn had away to go;
The skis were too loose at both heel and toe.
--"That's too bad!" rumbled yonder.
Then little Nils Finn in the snow set his feet:
"You ugliest troll, you shall never me cheat!"
--"Hee-ho-ha!" rumbled yonder.
Nils Finn with his staff beat the snow till it blew
"Your trollship, now saw you how hapless it flew?"
--"Hit-li-hu!" rumbled yonder.
Nils Finn pushed one ski farther forward with might;
The other held fast,--he reeled left and right.
--"Pull it up!" rumbled yonder.
Nils' tears wet the snow, while he kicked and he struck;
The more that he kicked there, the deeper he stuck.
--"That was good!" rumbled yonder.
The birch-trees, they danced, and the pine-trees said "Hoo!"
They more were than one,--were a hundred and two.
--"Know your way?" rumbled yonder.
A laugh shook the ridge till it made the snow fly;
But Nils clenched his fists and he swore 't was a lie.
--"Now beware!" rumbled yonder.
The snow-field yawned wide, and the heavens came low;
Nils thought 't was now time for him also to go.
--"Is he gone?" rumbled yonder.--
Two skis in the snow looked about everywhere,
But saw nothing much; for there was nothing there.
--"Where is Nils?" rumbled yonder.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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For an Earth-Landing
the sky sinks its blue teeth
into the mountains.
Rising on pure will
(the lurch & lift-off,
the sudden swing
into wide, white snow),
I encourage the cable.
Past the wind
& crossed tips of my skis
& the mauve shadows of pines
& the spoor of bears
& deer,
I speak to my fear,
rising, riding,
finding myself
the only thing
between snow & sky,
the link
that holds it all together.
Halfway up the wire,
we stop,
slide back a little
(a whirr of pulleys).
Astronauts circle above us today
in the television blue of space.
But the thin withers of alps
are waiting to take us too,
& this might be the moon!
We move!
Friends, this is a toy
merely for reaching mountains
merely
for skiing down.
& now we're dangling
like charms on the same bracelet
or upsidedown tightrope people
(a colossal circus!)
or absurd winged walkers,
angels in animal fur,
with mittened hands waving
& fear turning
& the mountain
like a fisherman,
reeling us all in.
So we land
on the windy peak,
touch skis to snow,
are married to our purple shadows,
& ski back down
to the unimaginable valley
leaving no footprints.
poem by Erica Jong
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That Avalanche Has Advanced
Depict me as you wish.
I am not the one who issued,
The blindfolds and the skis...
You speed down the slopes,
To deceive you with hopes.
I came to warn you,
Of an impending avalanche.
I was the one who came brave enough...
To insist you were heading towards darkness.
And not a party to drink with song and dance.
But since I am not a skier,
You laughed at me and took the chance.
And in the midst of your 'glee'...
That avalanche has advanced!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Americans know as much about Canada as straight people do about gays. Americans arrive at the border with skis in July, and straight people think that being gay is just a phase. A very long phase.
quote by Scott Thompson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Famous Polka
The famous person wears the same size water skis as me
Shes got three cars, as many years Ive lived in this city
Her hair is blond and mine is brown, they both start with a b
But when the phone inside her rib cage rings its not for me
But when the phone inside her rib cage rings its not for me
Hey
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pressure
Pressure pressure I got pressure, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Pressure pressure I got pressure, oh yeah
I dont really want to give it to you
cos its really contagious
You can pick it up anywhere
And it can be quite dangerous
You can spread it mouth to mouth
You can even get it when youre alone
But I can always live with it
Whenever I am close to you
Pressure pressure I got pressure, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Pressure pressure I got pressure
I get it driving in my motor car
I get it when Im drinking in a bar
I get it riding on the subway
I get it regular every day
And anyone who never had it yet
And doesnt know what Im going through
But I forget the pressure
When I am close to you
Altogether now-oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
Pressure pressure I got pressure oh yeah. oh yeah. oh yeah
Pressure pressure feel the pressure
You got the pressure and thats a fact
I can tell by the way you act
And I can tell that youre pressurised
By the look thats in your eyes
I know the pressure cos Ive got it too
So I know what youre going through
But I forget the pressure
Whenever I am close to you
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Perch
There is a fork in a branch
of an ancient, enormous maple,
one of a grove of such trees,
where I climb sometimes and sit and look out
over miles of valleys and low hills.
Today on skis I took a friend
to show her the trees. We set out
down the road, turned in at
the lane which a few weeks ago,
when the trees were almost empty
and the November snows had not yet come,
lay thickly covered in bright red
and yellow leaves, crossed the swamp,
passed the cellar hole holding
the remains of the 1850s farmhouse
that had slid down into it by stages
in the thirties and forties, followed
the overgrown logging road
and came to the trees. I climbed up
to the perch, and this time looked
not into the distance but at
the tree itself, its trunk
contorted by the terrible struggle
of that time when it had its hard time.
After the trauma it grows less solid.
It may be some such time now comes upon me.
It would have to do with the unaccomplished,
and with the attempted marriage
of solitude and happiness. Then a rifle
sounded, several times, quite loud,
from across the valley, percussions
of the custom of male mastery
over the earth -- the most graceful,
most alert of the animals
being chosen to die. I looked
to see if my friend had heard,
but she was stepping about on her skis,
studying the trees, smiling to herself,
her lips still filled, for all
we had drained them, with hundreds
and thousands of kisses. Just then
she looked up -- the way, from low
to high, the god blesses -- and the blue
of her eyes shone out of the black
and white of bark and snow, as lovers
who are walking on a freezing day
touch icy cheek to icy cheek,
kiss, then shudder to discover
the heat waiting inside their mouths.
poem by Galway Kinnell
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Woman of Color
The woman of color so bronze and beautiful
Attitude in control
She wears it well and seems to know
As she's always on the go The woman of color she beams of joy
Attitude in control as she searches for Prince Troy The woman of color can't seem to find
The love she needs that's always on her mind The woman of color
Attitude in control
Settles down with the love
Of her heart and soul
poem by Karen Champion
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To The Outside Guy
from here
we have the intentions
of telling you about ourselves
you do not see us
in this place
there is no winter here
we have never felt ice
there is no autumn
we never see the sadness of the
leaves falling
we either have rain
or shine
it is only them
who tells us that this is our
paradise lost
we wish for something else
on sad faces
as said the far pastures are
always greener
i've been to places
and this i tell them
this is where i belong
this is here where home is
where there is no winter
neither autumn
but just rain or shine
you are wrong
we have no regrets
neither are we
envious about
skis and
snow balls
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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day dreaming while skiing XD
the wind blows in the snow
like a sea but with its own flow
the sun is rising
the clouds are crying
not rain, not flakes of snow
more like leafs of snow
when it lands it stays like seaweed: straight
they dance with the wind like a first date
when your skis embrace
this dance, you feel like floating in space
nothing can pull you back down
like weed you have left the ground
you're flying way high in the sky
till one day... you die
poem by Nicolas Thomas
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Looking At The Sky
Unsinkable, is the sky,
apparently above, untouched.
Running through the fissure of it vastness claws
My eyes of a blue fire, follow the wings of the cloud's companions.
My feet stand, painful, like in a Mary go around, that not move, engage.
And without realize, my lost walk, at the sun tuck me.
At this transparent fuel, the sky injects.
Like a burning hole, that never consume.
Make my eyes shining of blind skis
And string's colours touch.
poem by Luca Menin
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Pressure Point
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I feel it in work, you know, I feel it in bed
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I've paid all my bills and I've acted so well
Ain't been cheating, there's nothing to tell
So why all this pressure, I dont understand
I call on my neighbours, and lend them a hand
Doctor, oh doctor, I'm willing to learn
Well all of my bones, well they toss and they turn
Mother, oh mother, I'm begging you please
To rid me of madness and cure this disease
... (?) told you what I have become
With all of this pressure, my mind's on a run
... (?) changing, let's hope for the best
Maybe it's something to get off my chest
Doctor, oh doctor, I'm begging you please
To rid me of madness and cure this disease
Mother, oh mother, I'm willing to learn
Well all of my bones, well they toss and they turn
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I feel it in work, you know, I feel it in bed
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
song performed by by Zutons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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San Diego
San Diego is just a kiss away
Like a gypsy sitting on the oceans coast
Misty in the morning like a painted lady
She has everything a man could ask for
Just outside the southern border she is waiting there
Dancing in the streets
Smiling
As she wraps herself around you.
The January cold and the holy ghost
Ride along up her California coast past the spirits and towering redwood trees
Where time stands still and the moon sits high for all to see
Beauty so intense she’ll bring a tear to your eye
As you raise your hands and try to touch the sky
Everything around you is clean and wild.
Like a dream catcher hanging in a small saloon
In the back of the bar above the empty bottles and broken jars
You make a wish and pray it makes past this lonely room.
Stars shoot slowly across the high desert skis
As the howls of coyotes sing in the sacrificial night
Their song of survival is a song of life
And rain falls softly on the rocks and into the sand
It’s a song of hope and the freedom to look up
Into the eyes of the holy ghost.
You can feel it on the California coast
So throw your hands into the skis
And dance with the lady of the southern nights
Then take a ride in the January cold with the holy ghost
And pray your wishes make it past this lonely room
Into a dream catcher behind the empty bottles and broken jars
In a road side saloon
It a song of freedom it’s a song hope
On a drive up the California coast
As she wraps herself around you in the January cold.
Godfather.
poem by Jeff Nesvig
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I've learned
Ive learned that to love someone doesnt have to involve pain,
Ive learned that to have a friend you must be a friend first,
Ive learned that in time youll see your mistakes and learn from them,
Ive learned that to be alone sometimes is the best thing for you,
Ive learned that in order to love a person you must feel loved,
Ive learned that if your wrong admit it or youll never forgive yourself,
Ive learned that your first love will be a part of you and you may never forget,
Ive learned that in order to move on you must fix what was first wrong,
Ive learned that if you ever mess up, you can always start over again,
Ive learned that to be 'cool' doesnt involve pressure,
Ive learned to accept what I have and be happy,
Ive learned that people will come and go so tell the ones you love how you feel,
Ive learned that to respect yourself you must respect others,
Ive learned that your actions always involve consequences whether it be good or bad,
Ive learned that priceless words can mean the world to someone,
Ive learned that sometimes being silent is the best solution,
Ive learned to expect the unexpected,
Ive learned that healing a broken heart involves tears and pain,
Ive learned to see the world in the eyes of others,
And Ive learned that each new day is a day to touch a life.
poem by Carly Almonde
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