Everybody is running
it is a race to the top
be careful with the cunning
and be ready for a flop


Because it is a race to the top
You'll be needing a strategy
either a friend or an enemy
that soon you will drop
because of jealousy


Some will pass you by
then stub you in the eye
Some will push you down
then will take your crown
Some will lend a hand
only to drop you and it's planned


The way to the summit
will never be facile
sure there are scummy
do not be fragile


That is the way to the top
Just play the game
clean and *****
it will never be fair

A man is chopping wood on a stump.
His hands steady the wood
and then with an ax he swings downwards,
Crack!
The wood breaks from the force
splitting into two pieces.
Then the man continues the pattern.

Now the routine becomes mindless,
all muscle memory, no thought.
He pauses, then shakes,
not allowing what's clinging to him to stay.

A few more forceful swings of the ax,
the wood cracks into two
The man pauses once more.
He shakes again but to no avail,
this is clinging to him.

The ax drops from his hands
Blade-down.
But the man doesn't notice.
He is just staring at the wood.
Perhaps what plagues him is maybe more
complex than wood
would ever hope to be?

He's sitting now
he's shaking too.
He is grabbing at his hands and his face,
his chest and his stomach,
his legs and his... feet.
His foot...
How did we not notice?
An ax fallen blade-down
did not sink into the ground,
but into his foot.
The agony he must be feeling right now!

Wait, he's no longer shaking?
His pale hands pull the ax out of his foot,
the blood is slowly oozing out.
He stands up slowly,
grabs a piece of wood,
and swings his ****** ax,
Crack!
The wood splits in two even pieces
falling on either side of the stump
and the man continues
making equal amounts of the same thing
on other side
with his ****** ax in the middle
letting his muscle memory take over
once more

Me,
Sitting in study hall,
i don't know a soul.
As a matter of fact,
I don't know MY soul.
I wish i could make sense.
I wish I could tell you why
I separate myself
from everyone and anyone.
I feel
like a lost dog.
Wandering the streets looking for nothing to find.
I feel like a star,
exploding through supernova.
I feel my body go limp.
I fall to the ground,
like a stuffed animal,
but instead of white stuffing,
I am filled with lies,
and pain,
abandonment.
I wish there is something I could do
to take this pain away.
I tried to pray,
I tried to stay,
but all it did
was push me away.
I feel so small.
alone
Peculiar.
But the thing is,
there is no logical reason.
Maybe it's because I have not been clinically diagnosed
with depression yet.
Is it apparent?
Does it appear in my poetry?
I want to make myself a god,
but i am only a powerless human.
A ghost in the fog,
no one to see me.
I wander for days
like a stray dog,
looking for
nothing.

This Poem is dedicated to the lives lost while climbing the most unforgiving Peaks in the world.
" "Why did you want to climb Mount Everest? * "
" *Because it's there. "
George Leigh Mallory* 1923

Eyes stinging,I'm facing up to the test,
realising that this could could be the death of me yet,
take a peek at the peak from under my hood,
life sapping winds leech heat from blood.
Of a lesser one maybe,but me no never,
take the pace easy,got to box clever

As the hurricane howls I know I can't sweat,
if you do you lose heat,that's the kiss of death,
push endurance to the max through the **** zone,
keep your mind right cause you're on your own,
stay positive,already faced K2,
Savage Mountain behind me,time for take two*
taking on the monster,most unforgiving,
Goddess of the sky,sacrifices the living,
of the ones who tried 9% have died,
Sagarmatha- I say a silent prayer for their lives.

Don't want my name on the roll of the lost,
souls wandering the peak like a host of ghost's,

save a thought for the Sherpa's,unflinching guides,
without whom the attempt is sheer suicide

Is it Vanity?, Ego? that pushes us to climb,
the 8 thousand plus defy man and time
I can't answer-even though I know the ledge
all I know is life's sweeter when you're on the edge,
of the precipice the gap between life and death
preserve your oxygen-steal each breath,

Born risk taker- adrenaline drug of choice,
free-dived blue hole,flew Carl's walls heights,
but this is the big one,can't take fright-
or I'll be frozen like a statue,by the dawn's cold light,
point of no return strength got to summon it,
whole life leads to the push for the summit."

we get dressed before the dying embers of fire
the air is plugged with a deadly silence
empty bottles lay scattered amidst an endless mess of sweat and sheets
the seconds pass with an intense touch of tender bittersweet
your kitchen floor is cold and i collapse in a heap of endless longing
of your lips on my hips, of your blinding touch in an explosion of mindless ecstasy

A tidal wave of emotion comes crashing down upon me
As I think about the one I love more than life itself
The feeling I get when I see her is sweet like honey from a bee
It's not small like an elf
I can always smile when I think of her
When I lay alone at night and concentrate I can smell her scent
I know I'm falling in love for sure
To let her know, at her doorstep I leave a hint
A short note to inform her of my feelings
I couldn't just leave her in the dark
She's the thing my body and heart is yearning
I want to enter her life and leave a good mark