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Sentimental Skateboarders
SLAP MAGAZINE. Volume 7, # 8 August 1998
Sentimental Skateboarders
A story offered unto good spirits in four wheeled glory.
A sacred legend of a tribe not in warlike stance, yet years
unified collectively in a unique dance.
Early years of adolescent rebellion and your favorite curb
near your home and oh, man how do you do kickflips anyway?
thoughts of up-levity ollieing up that curb for the first time.
That voice on a rough narrow path in a small town telling you
"Straight ahead, straight head, the way long, sometimes unclear
just dont fear".
Moreover in a city, that little tool is your only means to
survival. Security guards at the gate and the quick escape from
sneering offices. A voice that says go up that one way street
in the opposite direction than he. Causes and conditions of growth,
constant unhanding, child-like desire for boardskate, many moons and
conditions change. Sky so blue, school I can't deal with you,
thoughts like this push toward greeting the world outsie.
who can remember early years skating a fiberglass ramp, watch out
for the hole in the flat bottom, crash landing and scraped elbow
on that May dayor that ledge downtown where you banged your shin and
a voice saying inside,"Takes seven times to fall and seven times
to rise".
what about the surprise of that new board pop after months of a
shaved tail and a nose all busted from learning wallrides and
your favorite song sings in your ear. thirteen years of experience
and wisdom gained, drive streghthend or maybe just a steady flow
like a mountain stream. On cold nights, trying to experience the
feeling of a new maneuver in the cold of winter. your friend
who forgot his gloves wants to go home. "Aw, one more try", and Mom's
up at home and reads with a sigh 'cause you're out way too late.
Let him mama, let him go. And now progressions just happenign
naturally, seed of creation. Fire keeps burining we keep learning,
yearning. And a voice keeps saying " It's only the beginning, it's only
the beginning".
---Anonymous
Sentimental Skateboarders
A story offered unto good spirits in four wheeled glory.
A sacred legend of a tribe not in warlike stance, yet years
unified collectively in a unique dance.
Early years of adolescent rebellion and your favorite curb
near your home and oh, man how do you do kickflips anyway?
thoughts of up-levity ollieing up that curb for the first time.
That voice on a rough narrow path in a small town telling you
"Straight ahead, straight head, the way long, sometimes unclear
just dont fear".
Moreover in a city, that little tool is your only means to
survival. Security guards at the gate and the quick escape from
sneering offices. A voice that says go up that one way street
in the opposite direction than he. Causes and conditions of growth,
constant unhanding, child-like desire for boardskate, many moons and
conditions change. Sky so blue, school I can't deal with you,
thoughts like this push toward greeting the world outsie.
who can remember early years skating a fiberglass ramp, watch out
for the hole in the flat bottom, crash landing and scraped elbow
on that May dayor that ledge downtown where you banged your shin and
a voice saying inside,"Takes seven times to fall and seven times
to rise".
what about the surprise of that new board pop after months of a
shaved tail and a nose all busted from learning wallrides and
your favorite song sings in your ear. thirteen years of experience
and wisdom gained, drive streghthend or maybe just a steady flow
like a mountain stream. On cold nights, trying to experience the
feeling of a new maneuver in the cold of winter. your friend
who forgot his gloves wants to go home. "Aw, one more try", and Mom's
up at home and reads with a sigh 'cause you're out way too late.
Let him mama, let him go. And now progressions just happenign
naturally, seed of creation. Fire keeps burining we keep learning,
yearning. And a voice keeps saying " It's only the beginning, it's only
the beginning".
---Anonymous
domenica 22 febbraio 2009
giovedì 19 febbraio 2009
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