"bouldering" poems
got so drunk at their little, ahem, initiation ceremony: drank a bottle of whiskey when i heard we were going clubbing wearing lycra shorts... the man with the biggest bulge and the biggest stick... never understood male group psychology... or any group psychology for that matter... it isn't exactly a throng of noblemen following Henry VIII.
i joined the lacrosse university team
for a bit,
left it when the time came to buy the
equipment - i didn't think getting
smacked by the defenders' longer sticks
was worth it, to be a striker with the shortest
stick - too physical - i thought i'd seek
some other physicality,
got stuck-up on rock climbing, and mountaineering
for a while, nothing serious,
a bit of easy bouldering on the edinbrugh crag,
the one lining the skyline at holyrood park,
the salisbury crag, just west of arthur's seat -
i'm not going to lie about clinging off the
matterhorn or something -
but i did an expedition with the mountaineering
club near Ben Nevis once...
Glen Coe / Coire nan Lochan...
and i figured, with all this talk of light pollution,
well, "pollution", to think that a bunch of
street lamps can blind away the stars of what
former poets spoke of: about the illumination
of the heavens for the blind eye to see...
we camped outside one bothy (basic shelter)
set off fireworks, drank whiskey, played music,
burnt a fire in the bothy...
but to be honest... i was not amused by this whole
theory of light pollution...
i looked up at the sky, and the number of stars
was no greater than the number seen in a bright
lit city... i know they say all those telescopes
amplify the chance of peering into the heavens
at night and see more stars...
but why cite light pollution, when, in a remote
highland hideout the number of stars didn't
increase in number... i've heard a girl from
australia cite that, in the outback she said
more stars could be seen... even without a telescope...
so the scottish highlands are unlike the australian
outback? is it just me... or is it simply ********
this whole light pollution argument?
it was dark out there like in an **** after black coffee
and charcoal tablets.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC
Walking in with high hopes
I knew that I’d fall
A cushioned landing waited below
Skin shreds with every reach, pull, and hang
Fingers bleed and sweaty palms
Slide and scrape against the rocks
The climb left me before I left the wall
With numbness in my hands and my toes,
But mostly my cheeks disfigured by nails
Pinning up a spastic smile
You had no belayer obligation
No rope tied on
My harness to your grip
A concrete landing waited below.
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 12:50 AM UTC
If the shackles of the bouldering social structures collapse then the stores are closed for winter. Sandy can wear last month’s Louis.
If the whole world allowed us in then you shouldn’t have procrastinated poisoning the fluorescence.
If you open the worn pages of time then you won’t die alone.
Not enough, huh?
Steely Dan the doctor Frankenstein.
“I cried when I wrote this song. Sue me if I play too long,”
Compost dreams so not long-gone?
If you have to **** yourself, then Paris becomes your drug.
Why would I intervene an ungrateful brat?
Don’t know if your veins will end up my perfect quill but if I have lose musical chairs to my father I will get you that spotlight *********
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
Bold,
Bouldering,
Rolling on.
Sing me a tune,
My favorite song.
Sing me my praises.
Sing me my sins.
Sin till the saints come marching in.
Saintly,
Sinners singing a song.
Saintly
Sinners
Boldly
Bouldering
Rolling on.
Starting fires wherever we roam
We are nomadic
No place we call home
We are nomadic
Wanderers
Wondering free
We are no man property.
We seek adventure,
We seek our souls.
Spreading the word
Our only goal.
We are
Saintly,
Sinners,
Bold,
Bouldering,
Rolling on.
Sing me a tune,
My favorite song.
Made of stone.
You're a Reckless Soul.
Whose Beating Heart,
Bleeds Down the Telephone.
You Say
"I'm never coming home"
'cause,
You Got No Place To Go.
"The whole worlds crazy"
You'll Never Understand It.
And you can't Fight it Alone.
But, I'm with you Wherever you go.
Maybe not always in Flesh and Bone.
So, just Pick up the Telephone.
We'll show them what we're made of...
We are Made of Stone.
Bold
Bouldering
Rolling on
Sing me a tune!
My favorite song!
Sing me my praises.
Sing me my sins.
Sin till the saints come marching in.
Saintly,
Sinners singing a song.
Saintly
Sinners
Boldly
Bouldering
Rolling on.
Starting fires wherever we roam
We are nomadic
We are made of stone.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 6:21 PM UTC
ashtrays, mugs and
moments: rattle within, outside their place.
our brittle, needy bones
support head,
appetite-shorn body: Bouldering.
Walking. |Wicking. Mushing bridges
churning-over water, tide.
High-regard neighbor’s children re-
move plastic decorations while that grandpa
hangs-- alive,
stayed-- in unused gutters, -o! Wind and
snow-flaked, grassy yardstomps lead us
with body-shag coats to-
doors, somedays-ies and happenstance
below mortuaries, toe-
tags, dangling shoe-string,
draping clothes'-
line our spindly, warrowed hallways
between blankets, sweaty
feelers lie, their
harrowed, heaving trunks hold night-trees/
palms aloft and hopeful.
a glint, a chance, a something.
wicker furniture, lace.
a bed, a "yes." Please,
a you.
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 1:20 AM UTC
Enter my Mind
Mind your step
Breath in Deep
For what you
See here
Hear here
May make you weep
May make you weak
May make you Wiry,
Wild and Fearful
May make you feel
Alive and Cheerful.
I have fallen more times over
Tried to kick a habit
One that would make most sober
Tried to break the chains that have long held me down
Tried in vain
But it's in my vein's to act the clown
I try to act proud
Keep ma head down
But the world catches up
And when I finally pick myself up
I'm thrown back down.
So who's listening now!
Who's speaking out loud
of foul rumors spread
half of them true
oh please yes lord
I'm trying to pull through.
But I miss my baby blue
I miss my baby who
Could pick me up whenever I was down
Now I'm on the wrong side of the equator
We say we see each other later
But I know it ain't so.
So I'll keep marching on
Boldly, Bouldering singing my song.
Until I get knocked down and i'm finally gone
I'll just keep getting right back up again
still marching on
to the beat of my own song
I'm a saintly sinner
A loser
A winner
I've been deeply thinking
Of all those times I've been drinking
Of all the **** ups and jokes
I don't wanna choke
On a bag of coke
I wanna stand strong and keep marching on
Leave the behind those habits that have done me wrong
Will Shake up any preconceptions you may have
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 6:06 AM UTC
"I'm afraid that we will become history as soon as the puzzle is finished."
Looking down at my jigsaw I
understand that the picture below is now made of
South African wine, bouldering summer storms, and pieces of garlic in the hands of a dancer who does not
Dance. Only in your arms, I could breathe the best way an asthmatic could. But as a misunderstood
Puzzle Girl, I would always give you the last piece of my jigsaw - knowing that you'd keep the finishing piece in your box of
treasures. Kept a secret. Like the fact that we both hate to love but keep believing that this too shall pass
as the cancer is eating out our bodies and we fight our separate wars.
You are making history
And I look down at my unfinished jigsaw
knowing that without you
my picture will never be
Complete.
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC
People bake brown in San Antonio
Striding sweaty and sticky,
******* through the city.
But you like apples so you must like
San Antonio all sticky and sweet.
You're baking crispy
Callousing your soft hands
Bouldering and baking in the city
I don't know about Texas but I know I like you.
Tornadoes rip through cities in my dreams.
I try to warn people in my sleep,
I'll call out to my empty apartment
"The tornadoes! Be careful."
I bet your crispy, sticky, sweet hands
would dry out my dreams as you
brush over my forehead.
I bet you'd tell me to go back to sleep
There aren't any tornadoes.
I keep thinking of you.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 10:09 PM UTC
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
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC
Everything I touch starts to melt more or less
I mainly roam around inside planet earth, what am I, can you guess?
Things around me I bring along in my flow
When you and me collide, life around us start to show
I'm a destroyer, but don't see it as a hurdle
I bring death so there can be life
Together we complete the circle
You cool me down and show me the way
Calms the toxic ashes and bouldering flames inside me for that day
My warmth makes you fly and spread your energy
Mixed together we shape sculptures of life and love, I hope last through infinity
Through time though, elements petrifies me randomly and it starts to show
I desperately seeking your shores before it's too late for me to know
I find your shore but it's a stormy weather
Sometimes I can still reach the ocean though
Before what I am freezes altogether
If I'm too cold, I should return to earth's core
Instead of just being in a stasis on your ocean shore
Trust in me, be sure that I bring the key to life
I can't help it, a sculpture takes form without you, hurry raise your tide
Inside screaming and crying in vain fighting to postpone the process
Trying to break the growing crust outside on me so I can let in my ocean goddess
I naively without your element try to join the ocean
But I'm solid now, drowning and choking in your tenderness and loving devotion
I hope I learn someday to master my creature
Even if it means to fight this nature
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 1:24 AM UTC
I'm searching for that ***** in your armor
The gap that my rays of sun beams can collide into
I want my atoms to surge through you
I want you to bask in my rays of yellow
I am searching for a mere gap
A space
A crack
A tiny place
For my love to crawl into
I want to prowl into your dark cave
Through that crack in the strong bouldering rocks
I step into your cave
And I hear a dripping
Drip drip drip
Of the night before when it rained
And I see the serenity in your eyes as you bask in the glory of the loneliness of that symphony
Of the rain song
You love the rain
My love, I am inside now
You can't get rid of me
I'm trapped because those cracks
Will not allow me to dissolve myself into nothingness
I can not merely dive into that sea of nothingness you wish for me to go to
You do not wish for me to slowly drown to sleep in that deep abyss
Of the horrors of what I am to discover
In your cave
In that ***** I came in through
That crack
My sun beams can not dissolve
I am here
To stay
And I will never escape
The only way to gain your sanity
Is to break down those cascading walls
Hammer down every stone in that Deep dark cave
In your abyss
Allow every piece of my sun beam to come into you
And we will carve out this wall
We will do it side by side
I am not afraid of your darkness
I am here to love you
Break down those walls
I am here.
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 3:48 AM UTC