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Zach Short Jul 2019
the coolness of untainted air

seeps deep into your lungs,

as glacial peaks and frozen lakes

become your ladder rungs,

reaching new heights - expanding your sight,

a horizon, soon undone,

with visible breath and stolen speech -

eye-level with the Sun.
climb on.
Kaiden A Ward Jun 2019
I just want to climb.
To remember the thrill
of freedom
as I race through the trees,
swinging recklessly from limb to limb,
unafraid of falling, yet
eager to embrace the pain
that drives the breath
from my lungs, knowing
it is a small price to pay
to find myself again.

So let me hang boneless from the wires and
revel in the weightlessness
granted by the unyielding embrace
of these ropes,
to memorize the gentle caress
of the mountain winds
on my skin,
pondering the complexity of my heartbeat,
wondering, if this is what it's like
to fly.
Gemma Feb 2019
I can see you there,
hiding behind your wall.
well I’ll climb right over it,
I’m not afraid to fall.
Besides, I can always start climbing again,
what’s a few bruises and scrapes between friends?!
I’ll find you where you are hiding
and I’ll try to help you see,
How much I really care for you
and how much you mean to me.
I understand it’s been easier,
to build your wall instead of getting hurt,
so I won’t come along and smash it down,
instead I’ll sit with you in the dirt.
I’ll help you to install a gate
so sometimes I can come through,
I’ll try to help repair the cracks,
using love and kindness for the glue.
I’ll fill some gaps with flowers,
to bring some colour to your life,
their beauty keeping you hopeful,
when your mind is in trouble and strife.
One Day you’ll be strong enough
to come out from where you hide
and it won’t be so scary
for you to allow me to see inside.
But until that day I’ll keep scaling your wall,
and planting my flowers in the gaps,
hopefully they will help you to see
there’s beauty within the cracks.
For I refuse to leave you hiding alone,
So I’ll keep climbing, stone by stone.
Sometimes, all you need is someone who wants to try.
Louise Dec 2018
Climbing a mountain on a rainy day
inspires you to embrace
the light showers that comes your way
and humbles you to appreciate
walking in the city streets on a sunny day
King Nov 2018
Deathly hollow eyes staring black
Pupils dilated in the abyss
Autopilot is all that’s left
Thoughts flooded of final bliss

Overdosed on emotions
Versatile and utterly unnecessary
My heart is empty but not broken
This feeling is so familiarly scary

This is what I felt in the absence of you
The disappearance of first love
My walls surrounded me, deathly blue
And all was drained from above

Panic and fear is all that’s missing
Manic is the replacement now
My heart wont stop cooing and singing
For the final leap, the last bow

Living in the moment is fright
Terrifying, my soul shivers and breaks
To even imagine going through the night
Without the hope of climbing free

This feeling is what was left,
Its sneaked back into my heart
Unwanted its slowly tearing me apart
And I hope I survive the climb back
The climb back is me
The absence of you,
The realization is what brings
Back me from the absence of me

From being cast to the dark
Torn apart, and nonexistent
From all you left I spark
The climb is what I live through
روبرت Nov 2018
Chalk flakes from callused hands
Eyes squint; lucid dream; solution clear
Inverted two handed start
Left, then right
Feet jitters, ****
Breath; check your feet; flag left
Crimp; bump right; match
Check feet; heel; stick it
Breath grace in breath grace out
Dart right; swipe left; switch feet
Nailed it
Life is like climbing. You analyze it. Plan it. Execute it. Fail. Try again. Maybe again. Your soul aches from it’s pain but when you get it right. Exuberation!
Eric Babsy Oct 2018
Even in the dark hours this gal is gone.
Where could she have gone?
Tempting me to bite off more than I can chew.
She leaves me vacant and blue.

Many saints have joined the cause like the huddled masses.
Buckle down all that moves just as you fasten in the molasses.
They laugh just to avoid a disaster.
Like wind from a ghetto blaster.

For on this night she seeks something great.
Something that grows mold and takes up the plate.
But where has she gone today?
Come and gone like the summer rain.

Has she taken it that far again?
For all the years I spent.
She is out there living it up in the sunny sky.
While me and the others sit idly by.

She is also living those nights great.
If she wants to make this date do not be late.
Here is a secret only the closest would know.
They will deliver the decisive blow.

She will bask as a social pro.
Climbing and climbing until she gets to the top.
One day she will be talking so much her head will pop!
Alyssa Gaul Sep 2018
It's hard to say if the climb was worth it

I know they push and press convincingly that
the climb is always worth it, but is it really?
I am left scraped up and battered
from all the boulders
and the wolves
and all the **** thorns
and left wondering if I really made it out better on the other side

There's always another mountain

And is it worth it?
To what end do we climb?
To what purpose do we trudge tirelessly up the mountainside,
wondering when we will reach the top?
I have reached the top many times
And there is always another **** mountain to climb
on the other side

So it's hard to say if the climb was worth it

And that is not to say I am done climbing
Though I question, my body falls back into the rhythm of the climb
ignores the scrapes and bruises
ignores the way the wolves nip at my heels
because I too always feel there is victory at the top
believe the nicks come with the climb
believe that if I just reach the top, then I can be free

But there's always another mountain

And what did I gain more than experience?
More than scars, and disappointment
Does it even matter that I have beaten the mountain
if nothing ever changes but my own weariness?
It is insanity, the very climb we repeat
over and over
as if there will ever be a different outcome

It's hard to say if the climb was worth it
****, I’ve been high since,
Since I was a kid,
I get lofty and light,
With the rest of them,

Granted my high was that due to elevation
And not escapism,

The Beech is the best place to go on a summer’s day

The weather like a warm blanket begs you to stay outside,

The branches crisscross across the sky,
Saving me from any toss,
Letting me think thoughts,
Of rushing from aerie heights,

I bend with The Beech,
And its soft coarse bows,
Match the gentle Maternal caress of the sweet summer breeze,
Beckon me into natural,
Seats, grown just for me,
As I have grown to be worthy of it

The clouds
Gentle behemoths
Meander beyond boundaries,
But never lose their lackadaisical luxuriousness

They’ve informed me
Today is the day for,
A climb,

I spider up the trunk and branches,
More mother’s ladder to father’s rays,
Even at the slight height,
I feel his tender gaze,
And embrace,
Protecting me from the ludicrous idea of failing,
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