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Phi Kenzie Jul 2018
I don’t always like being naked
even in my own home
but in this heat
it’s either strip or die

There are those with A/C
acting so civilized
as they turn back temperatures
concerned for their sweat

I’m wet with jealousy
but the humility grew on me
moss in a steamy environment
condensation in the same

Now the only difference
is switching two letters
Walkin' 'round in m'skivvies
julianna Jul 2018
Humble on a mirror
Is something you won’t find
Because humble is a virtue
That people hide inside
Peace Jun 2018
It wasn't enough,
she was kicked,
shackled,
broken,
and laid bare

You had nestled,
your arms around her neck,
until she could no longer breathe

Twisting her legs,
weakening her,
so she could only lie there,

As she stare into the eyes,
of her tormentor.
In this piece, lies many interpretations.
A Simillacrum Jun 2018
Ancient page
&
Ancient day
Grant me insight
If you please in this way:
Sight of the light
Before the blessed gate
Humankind
@
Eden, safe

These towers shall fall
These lowly shall rise
These in power forget
These towers disgrace
The Firmament when
The Chalice flows over:

.in.
.blood.
Helen Raymond Jun 2018
We behave like gods deigning to walk into the rain
We walk through these manicured fragments of nature on our way from one slab of concrete to the next
Reigning over our kingdom of manufactured marvels and artificial light
So tonight as I walked into the rain I turned my face up to the sky
I praised the cold, gentle touch of the universe upon my skin
And relished in my humble mortality
forestfaith Jun 2018
if only the world wasn't filled with hate.
if only the world wasn't filled with people degrading another.
if only the world wasn't filled with jealousy.  
if only the world could be healed from its broken heart.
if only the world could be filled, fully with true genuine love.
it can be hard.
i know.
if only we knew the blessings we had all this time.
if we had laid them in a row, it would have been infinite, uncountable, that if we were to list them down, time would have run out of our hands.
one day, we would be reunited with the heavens above.
and all this could finally be fulfilled, that finally this empty world is filled.
whole and healed.
but for now, i would be wandering at the plains of this broken, hurting, world.
harlon rivers May 2018
"From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story.
A story says, I survived." - Fr. Craig Scott

... a tribute to a fallen brother ― R.I.P  Les
... you were with me every step of the way to the top



crampon cleats tickle her bedrock
far below the frosty powder dusting;
released from where her majestic peak
parted yester night’s obstinate clouds.

the alpine atmosphere
first chilled and then plummeted
as the starlight glistened;
illuminated ice crystals sparkle
like diamonds in the rough.

I am overwhelmed
by the peaceful aura
surrounding me.

watching how
"these"
footprints
mark the snow
...arousing
a lucid,
stirring awareness
of my existence;

...inciting
a conscious moment,  
extraordinarily deepening
the realization of being.


harlon rivers ... May 24th, 2013
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2528185/beyond-the-telegraph-road-a-poem-in-memoriam-of-the-love-of-friends-brothers-promises/

postscript:
the poem above is notes turned prose poem...still stirring from a moment remembered. We were best friends from the neighborhood just shirt of 20 years.  When we were teens, skiing, we used to look up to the tip top of Mt Hood and say: "someday we'll climb up there together and look back down here from the top";  four years later i saw him drive away down our gravel road for the last time ― you never know which goodbye is the last ―

This is a piece inspired by climbing a snow and ice packed, 12,000 foot dormant volcano in the cascade mountains of the Pacific Northwest.   The original, that this is intended to be an intro for, is "Beyond the Telegraph Road"
  
Edited to say: Thanks for the encouragement Laim...without it I may not have shared the rest of the Memorial day story here at HP...
harlon rivers May 2018
" Don't walk behind me; I may not lead.
Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow.
Just walk beside me and be my friend." - Albert Camus


                 ~              ~               ~    

The telegraph road circled through the foothills,
rising towards the majestic mountain high
It’s been a long and twisting passage soon forgotten,
with the pavement abruptly dead ending,  
just below the timberline

The dawning blue heavens look so much closer now
Just a step away from standing within reach                                  
The birds uplifted on the telegraph wire rest atop me;
perched on the final material traces
disregarded by a digital world

My awakening soul is ascending beyond
the distant alpine meadow horizon  
At the threshold of an untrodden wilderness wonderland,
climbing up above the meandering clouds

It’s exhilarating to look back and know
there is no turning back around;
I’ve never been higher
and can never get back down

What unknown frontier lies in wait before me now?
Just on the other side of the impossible dream?
The last step forward to find the next step beyond the bounds
There is not that much that changes,
when we just repeat the same old song

The atmosphere’s thin air leaves me gasping for wings
Like dust and ashes free to soar with the tempest breeze
If only time would sever these loathsome ties that bind
The ones that enchain the weight of this load unto me

While understanding the pace to a long journey’s rhythm
The only barometer you have to trust is in your heart
Adaptation is at the core of freedom's survival
But it feels almost like running away  

I have felt the fear of falling with nothing left to lose
I’ve climbed as far as flesh and bones can reach
I've come this far always feeling subtly afraid
It has been a great distance back from the beginning;
knowing I must take these last steps alone.

Understanding it was love that brought me here
Naturally tugs at the spirit in my soul encouraging me on
I'll keep searching for the shining light of guidance
Listening for a voice that softly beckons me home...



written by:    harlon rivers ... May 24th, 2013
Authors notes: a prose prologue;

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2528189/beyond-majestic-boundsa-prose-prologue-to-beyond-the-telegraph-road/

5/26/2013 Edited to delete the back story:    ...thank you for reading.
Mary-Eliz May 2018
oh such humility
is found here

not a cocky one
in the lot

no narcissism
or conceitedness

not a word about
**** so taut

not a one thinks
he's better

than any other
on the site

or in the world
for that matter

who thinks he's
always right

not one thinks
that he is

God's gift to
humankind

or that others
swoon for him

because he's so
very fine

at least most
don't write it

a bragging
load of poo

if you have to
write about it

it's certainly
not true!
"The truth?!...you can't handle the truth!"
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