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Aa Harvey Jun 2018
Sitting on a mountain.


This mountain top has no sounds.
No distractions anywhere to be found.
I plant my feet on solid ground.
The sky is hidden behind nimbus clouds.


No human to be seen from this vantage point.
No voice to be heard;
I am mute, apart from my aching joints,
That crack in unison with my pain.
No energy left to voyage again, so here I will stay.


It’s a long way down without a bobsleigh,
So here I will stay; will I build myself a grave?
Or regain my pace and once more join the rat race?
Who is to know?  Who is to say?


The sunlight is fading to be replaced by half a moon;
Snow is all around, but this is no Billy Mack tune.
I am all out of prunes.
Provisions were all, gone too soon.


Water for air, but no meals to dine.
No rescue helicopter flies up above me in the skies.
Water for eyes, but no scrap for me to build a sledge.
It’s a long way down to have no regrets.


Holding on to staying alive; tent is waving, I am blowing steam.
Water for eyes; is this really all just a bad dream?
I scream into the air, but there is nobody there
And I am without a deep breath to be heard down there.


No avalanche is coming to pass;
Still no way down and no turning back.
Water for air; water for eyes.
My kingdom for a burger, a milk shake and some fries.
Cannot just roll down to the bottom of this hill.
All things have been killed by the endless wind chill.


Minus degrees plus high wind speeds,
Equals the end of me; oh, sweet sanctuary.
Continuously, I seek to see the escalator,
To the bottom of this mountain peak.


Inside my tent the world disappears.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
Will I still be here?


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Josh Jun 2018
You are infinitely colourful,
Touching the ground in two places.
Sometimes more,
Sometimes less.
I welled up when I saw you
and climbed a mountain
- I couldn't see you through the grey
but I was closer
You were with me
My brothers, the sheep,
Who knows how your colour,
Your beauty,
Touched their hearts,
if it lingers as it does in mine.
Rain and hail may erode, in time,
the rainbow at the back of my mind,
but they didn't on that day and they haven't since.

Yesterday the snow!
On the ground crunching like a good apple
Pasted on the trees like moss,
Painted upon each limb, some Bob Ross
Magic, white hill, white trees,
Pure sun, makes even the breeze glow!
Trees drop snow like the leaves
of last season, little by little,
and it falls to gently settle
in the back of my mind with you.

Warmth and colour,
the miracle of my summer,
Rest and play in the back of my mind
With the perfect winter's day,
Never to melt or fade into grey.
Haylin Jun 2018
If you want to find me,
You know I am easily found.
Watching sunsets,
Sitting at the hideaway,
With the ocean breeze.
Under turquoise skies,
Exploring Lanikai,
Kaena on North Side.
Out here by the sea,
And in forests,
Running along wild things,
Along mountain edges,
Roaming free.
Steven Gosling Jun 2018
Do not worry about our march to freedom,
with two steps forward and one step back,
do not worry about the pace that we lack.
Do not be disappointed by the hurdles we face,
as we jump one, another’s put in place.
For we will get there come what may.

Do not be angry about the words that are said,
as we dispel one lie, another is brought,
do not be angry about the myths that are taught.
Do not be daunted by the struggles that lie ahead,
as one fire is dowsed, another is fed.
For we will get there I’m sure some day.

Do not be disheartened by the mountain to climb,
as we climb higher and turn the tide,
do not be disheartened if we slip and slide.
Do not be weary of the journey still to go,
As we walk fast, they walk slow.
For we will get there come what may.
nawke Jun 2018
Man's love for you is mighty
   deep like a chalice of gold
   never knowing you're gonna show

Ever since he had a hold on you
    like alice's soul, living beneath shadows
    only in modesty, you identify

When the shivering warmth breaks
    warriors contorted and gibbering
    you don't stop their withering.

The mind profaned by arrogance
    same mistakes we salute
    man's intelligence, natures refute

Flick of an absolute switch
    ego like engine ditch
    all going out like useless tricks  

You question his durability
    the importance of schemes
    till it falls apart at the seams

Flaxen man hasn't washed in weeks
   for a tiniest pie in the sky
   can he now kiss the peaks

Oh please permit him to cry
    and when he finally breathe a long sigh
    allow your silence to speak



@copyright2015
Inspired by Expedition to Chomolungma, Tibet.
The Calm Jun 2018
Find a mountain
Begin to climb
begin to find, your strength inside
your fingers weak, the air is thin
the rocks are cold, it numbs your skin
but continue to climb, to reach the shrine
a valley on a mountain, from the gods, a sign
Cause nothing worth having, is easily retireved
so climb your mountain, your gift, receive
Kit John Parish May 2018
windless mountain your leaves are brown,
with eyes of grey ever looking down,
upon you stands a deadwood tree,
windless mountain where you meet the sea
Stanley Wilkin May 2018
Each hill climbed means an obstacle overcome,
behind each hill is another,
behind the next is a mountain
of ravines and crags, covered with fine
snow; when overcome, the peak transcended,
life becomes just a pleasant downward
snowboard into the sun.
A Simillacrum May 2018
The years have passed
I thought they mattered
In sleeping so long
I come disappointed
Hip leading foot
Perpetually faster
Downhill

The fads have passed
I thought they would end

Well,
in sleeping so long
I come disappointed
Kicking up trash
Plastered in faces
Pretty in package
Marketable mouths
Dripping lips

Told what to say before
they understand a thing.

The years have passed
I thought they mattered
In sleeping so long
I come disappointed
Hip leading foot
Perpetually faster
Downhill

Your best friend sells sugar for pennies
and you say it's dirt cheap when you
know full well that you can find
sweetness herself in leaves.

In the near distance fires light
the violent sky, violet-black
in the orange-red we see
when we shut our
open eyes.

We always saw this coming
as our masters asked it
from us, but the
master never
was there
when
we
c
r
i
e
d

Take my money take my soul
give me level ups lest I
cry again.

.number crunch.
.number cruncher.
.number crunch.

The new human condition
took weakness as a sign.

We are marked better dead
than alive
by

The World Above
Tyler C Nelson May 2018
a misty start
   with worlds to go
a walk through forest,
   desert, snow
with altitude
   and dizzy joy
a challenge which
   my strength employs
a peaceful summit
   waiting warm
where thought and poetry
   find form
from near the sun
   our minds turn
to worlds below
   we will return


-TylerN @ 10,040 feet, 2018.05.12
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