#alps
My spirit yearns to
Leave this godforsaken
City for good
To build a couzy chalet
Hidden somewhere
Amidst the alps
And to watch the
Seasons change while
Playing guitar on the porch
With my dogs at my feet
So why does a quiet life
Keeps getting away from me?
May 26, 2025
May 26, 2025 at 9:25 AM UTC
You make me wanna
Buy a classic motorcycle
Quit my boring corporate job
And move to the Italian alps
You make me wanna stop
Piling up wasted days
And start living
Feb 15, 2025
Feb 15, 2025 at 4:14 PM UTC
When it snows,
the airy white petals falls on the alps
and rests.
The mountains wear the white cloak with pride,
as the gift from the high above
and I enjoy the majestic morning view of the creator from my humble abode.
Bina Mukherjee
Nov 23, 2020
Nov 23, 2020 at 6:55 AM UTC
The mountains are shy.
Though they never shrink or walk away,
and will display their beauty openly,
Sitting tall across the lake.
But you will know their meekness,
When your pictures aren’t clear
For the moment they’re caught in your lens,
The mountains seem to disappear.
These peaks will not be captured,
They refuse to show themselves
To any who aren’t willing
To get out and look themself.
Apr 3, 2020
Apr 3, 2020 at 1:41 AM UTC
I the alps
There are
Many a wildflower
Grouwing
And flerishing
Want
To
See.
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 7:10 AM UTC
homage to Wallace Stevens
I - My Focus pistoned up the rise
and all at once, the Rockies -
silhouettes against the western skies.
II - On the road to Boulder
a pleated ridge crawls north
like a blue whale bound for the open sea.
III - Appalachia's intoxicating verdure
never fails to induce in us
a certain mellowing of the spirit.
IV - You 'conquered' my North Face, did you?
Why, I should skewer your arrogant ***
like a holiday lamb culled for the sacrifice.
V - Lewis and Clark looked west
surveying the Bitterroots' frigid expanse.
Farewell Northwest Passage!
VI - Pueblos stranded on Enchanted Mesa -
their rock stairs crumbled to the valley floor.
Should they dive to their death or starve?
VII –Touristas at Big Bend Park
wonder at its pastel window -
its romantic haze a toxic gift
from stacks across the Rio Grande.
VIII – The once mighty Ozarks humbled by age,
dwarfed by the youthful Rockies.
Listen up, youngsters, your time will come!
IX – We de-bussed to seize the dolomites
with our hyper-kinetic shutters.
Pausing for a draught of Italian air,
I felt the whack of an Alpine snowball.
X - Before Oregon's crater had its lake,
the mountain scorched the village below.
Today its azure waters preach only serenity.
XI – Looking down from Shissler peak
to the golden meadow below
where the elk herd calmly grazes.
XII – Do mists veil the Blue Ridge Mountains
or are there really no mountains at all -
only clouds decked out in mountain attire?
XIII – They say that peaks more steep than Everest
soar up from the ocean floor.
Who will scale their sunken heights?
May 28, 2010 – Boulder Colorado
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
I want to live in Europe.
I want to run in the Bavarian Forest.
I want to be left in the English rain.
I want to feel the Russian Frost.
I want to skate in the Alps.
I want to feel the French Luxury.
I want to taste the Belgian Chocolates.
I want to sleep in the European Palaces.
I want to feel the Papacy Monastic.
I want to feel the taste of French Cheese and Scottish Whiskey.
I want to hear the Italian Piano.
I want to read English Poetry.
I want to hear the Spanish legends and don't forget the olive there !
I want to feel the magnificence of the Parisian Events.
I want to swim in the Danube River.
I want to be inspired by the fascinating paintings.
I want to be amazed by the beauty of the churches there.
I want to read about the greatness of the European History from there.
I want to search in The Vatican Stores and Warehouses for answers I was looking for.
I want to dream about reading the books that have been hidden in the Invisible Palace of Books in Berlin.
I want to walk among the shelves of The National Library in London.
I want to go shopping in the streets of Paris and Milan.
I just want to be European,
I want to live in Europe.
- Shilo
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
love runs deep
and true like the Isar
flowing as an
amorous stream
immersing lovers
in the surge of
golden currents
its thrilling
buoyancy
lifting the
beloved
reaching sanctuaries
on soft grassy banks
finding solace
in trickling eddies
sustaining the
most hungry
of hearts
Isar springs
from a far off
continental
pinnacle
tipping from the
mystic peaks of
mythical Valhallan
tables
royally set to feast
the unabashed love
of Tristan and Isolde
she
pours
as an
ambrosial
libation
brewed
by master
Brewmeisters
coursing through
the veins of all
Bavarians
she sweeps across
lush Alpine meadows
anointing the water
with nectarous
edelweiss fragrance
and budding sprigs
of mountain laurel
generous streams
gently cascade
down the Alp’s,
sloping through
picturesque
valleys,
sustaining the
blue on white
Maypoles of
busy hamlets
crafting the
things of life
the glacial melt
of Spring swells
the flows of
a rising Isar
bringing new things
from far off places
heralding arrivals
revealing epiphanies
washing the
deepest stains
carrying away
the unholy flotsam
of loved
starved souls
proclaiming fidelity
tributaries are joined
in a holy union
once submerged
hidden doubts
yearnings and
unrequited
longings
are banished
in a mornings
lifting mist
charting new
courses for
companionship
summer reveals
sparkling waters
winding its way
through beds
of polished stones
during the
easy season
the river offers
respite from
pressing heat
clear waters
invite bathers
to dip a toe,
wade deep or
fully submerge
oneself in pools
of rejuvenation
British Gardens
offer spectacle
of self affirmed
nudists and
surfers tacking
atop waves,
while spectators
marvel from
protected alcoves
yearning to
peel off
extraneous
layers of cloths
to experience
the joy of naked
freedom
during gay times
carefree summer
lovers intoxicated by
the sweet scent of
blooming tulip trees
rendezvous in
hidden glades
breathlessly
relishing the
intimate reveries
of seclusion
embracing
renewed
discoveries of
fathomless desire
along canals
laborers find
the recompence
of a well earned
day of rest
families lay blankets
to define the space
where circles of trust
are assembled,
where identity
is sculpted
and family folklore
is handed down,
entrusted to the
guardianship of
a new generation
the boughs of
broad leaf trees
seat heralds
of songbirds,
gracefully shading
the resting with
a welcomed lullaby
while shielding loungers
from the remorseless
hum of a busy city
water and
love unite
forming a base
compound element
nurturing companionship
gleaned on the gentle ebbs
of a green river calling
its estuaries to rejoin
its fluxing host
in Autumn
the foliage of
the glorious season
paints a Monet
masterpiece
a life of love
has wrought
dazzling
watercolor portraits
are splayed onto the
glass surface of her
magnificent face
revealing
the depth
and dimension
of loves full
pallet of life's
seasons
beheld
in living
color for all
to behold
enthralled we
marvel at the
wondrous
portraiture
nature
composed
urging us to wade
into the golden pools
baptized by the grace
of reconciliations from
the dislocations of
expired seasons
as the hard times of winter arrives
serrated edges of ice floes creep
across the snow laced stones
reminding us how jagged
seasons may be
the gray steel water challenges
the warmest hearts of love
but elegant bridges
crowned with
statuesque keystones
arch across the water
joining the river walkways
the knowing statuary
of a city's mythic guardians
are ever watchful
assuring the Isar’s flow
remains unimpeded
and uncorrupted
the beloved of
Munchen sleep well
during the harshest
Bavarian nights
knowing the Angel of Hope
gleams through the darkness
her fluttering wings
sounding surety
to the faithful
her protective pinions
sprinkle gold upon the frozen river
planting the hopeful seeds of spring
whispering reassurances that
love will never be extinguished
Music Selection:
Bette Midler, The Rose
Composed for the marriage
of Maxine and Glendon McCallum
Munchen
7/4/14
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC