"everest" poems
I want to let out
a scream so loud
the Grand Canyon will shake
Mount Everest will crumble,
and the whole world will kneel down.
I want to scream so my voice
could finally be heard
after all this while
hiding behind curtains,
sleeping in the shadows,
travelling by rooftops
during the night.
I want to confess,
to profess,
to be honest.
I want to rid of my brain
and its logic
who says not to;
Dig 10 layers
of six feet of dirt
and bury it deep underground
lost and forgotten
like the planes and ships over the Bermuda Triangle.
I want to leave and forget,
cast away the fibers and threads
that hold on to my
morality and affection ,
but only you
can hold me down.
I want you to
hold me down;
Hidden between the gaps of pain
is my heart.
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC
The guy looks like he is going
To climb Mt Everest
But that axe isn't for ice
It's for fighting off enimes
And saving the world
Swing he will
If you get in the way of
His goals.
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 1:47 PM UTC
The Peak of Success
The reason
My professor loved me
So much,
I thought there was
Something to be known.
When I asked him
To give its account,
He smiled and
Had something nice
To be shown.
He opened his diary then,
Some lines he sought.
Once you'd opined,
he said then,
It was the great thought
On the peak of success
(in your mind).
He continued his talk
And told the rest,
It shouldn't be having
The tip and cliff
Or that of the Everest.
A question you'd raised,
What if it is
The Table Mountain
And its land?
You meant, its crest,
Where everyone
Could stand.
S. Bharat
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
Palembang, 18 Desember 2011
Ku tak ingat pertama kali aku membuka mata tuk melihat dunia
Yang ku ingat aku hidup bersama keluarga kecil yang bahagia
Semasa hidup dunia tak pernah berubah
7 samudera, 7 benua
Tetap
Bukti kecintaan Sang Pencipta kepada manusia
Cinta itu penipu
Bisa berperan menjadi apa saja dan siapapun
Ombak di laut lepas, itulah cinta
Sinar mentari pagi, itulah cinta
Tetes embun pagi, itulah cinta
Dingin angin malam, itulah cinta
Cinta itu tirta
Sama seperti air, tak dapat disentuh, hanya bisa dirasakan
Cinta itu air sungai yang mengalir
Cinta itu jalanan berkelok di pegunungan
Cinta itu pepohonan di kaki gunung
Cinta itu butiran pasir di Sahara
Cinta mampu hidup di mana saja
Bak parasit yang mengikuti kemana manusia
Cinta itu suci di Mekkah
Cinta itu tinggi di Everest
Cinta itu luas di Pasifik
Cinta itu dingin di Antartika
Namun terkadang cinta bisa menjadi liar
Tak mau disentuh, pantang diucap
Cinta bagaikan Viranha di Amazon
Bagaikan Voldemort, The Dark Lord
Bagaikan Troll di pedalaman
Bagaikan kota hilang di Peru
Cinta bagaikan mumi di Mesir
Bagaikan terowongan di Jalur Gaza
Bagaikan Titanic yang tenggelam
Bagaikan laut mati di Yugoslavia
Aku merenung,, diam
Memandang jam,, terus berdetak
Ku akan tinggal di Laguna indah
Jauh dari semua,, jauh dari cinta
Dec 19, 2011
Dec 19, 2011 at 1:26 AM UTC
When I write,
It is like I am on an adventure,
When I am happy I am drifting down a lazy river,
When I am full of anger I am raging down dangerous rapids,
Crashing into the jagged rocks of my anguish and anxiety
Until finally I reach the river bank and I can rest.
It is like I am scaling Mount Everest,
Each level of creativity is another 100 metres into the sky
Until finally my imagination is at the peak
And my freedom is limitless,
stretching across to the farthest reaches of the horizon
It is like skydiving,
A rush of adrenaline as I plummet towards the ground,
Completely weightless and my mind is racing
Like the air that brushes over my skin
Until I pull the cord and release the parachute,
Safely land on my feet
With a new idea.
It is like a drug,
I am on an all time high,
Hallucinations of what could be,
How something that is far from tangible
Becomes existential,
Then during the come down
I make that dream a reality.
When I write, I feel like myself,
There are too many possibilities
That are still left unmarked on the map of written art.
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
The gigantic sphere
in somewhere we don't know
resting on the throne of
the Sun
The gigantic sphere
up in the east sky
rising slowly like
a man climbing up
the Everest
The gigantic sphere
up in the west sky
falling slowly like
a snail climbing down
the Everest
The Sun is slow
but we feels fast
Why so fast while so slow?
'Cause you are having Fun!
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
right in front of me
but out of reach
windiness
tests upon tests
you teach me
patience
i’m weary
but i keep chasing
and i just don’t know
if i can reach the top
collecting pieces
of facts like rags
i shape opinions,
secrets map
trust impasse.
i may never know
the mountain shade
unearthed in doubt
from years of pain
but for it all
i love you more
you teach me
strength
and i’ll plant my flag
and print my foot
drag my wooden,
peg-legged soul
lose my voice,
foretell my wake
altitudes high
and immense
please believe
what i can see
let me teach you
acceptance
everest man
i am
shrinking
as you hide the sun
behind your back
as you hide the sun
away from me
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 4:06 PM UTC
If my depression hits
The darkest depth
Then I’ll be in the Mariana Trench
If my happiness gets to the top
Then I have climbed Mount Everest
And there’s no sign of stop
If you spark my fire, there’s nowhere to go
I’m at the boiling point
I’ll erupt like a volcano
My personality’s never what it seems
I’m sad and I’m happy
And everything between
I’m hit by emotion
No matter what road I take
I’ve got too many feelings and there is no escape
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 11:05 PM UTC
The color of those sadistic green eyes still burns in the back of my mind.
The soft texture of your cheeks molded into a frown still lingers on my fingertips.
And I could never forget the smile that held steady as I fell for you.
Do you remember when you told me that if you were stuck on Mount Everest and could only call one person, you'd call me?
I remember. Because you said you'd guarentee that you wouldn't even be there without me.
These memories pierce through the cast on my heart and I'm forced to face the fact that my heart isn't healing as fast as I thought it would.
My tongue tastes of morphine from the many nights of trying to forget you.
More so, trying to forget that you're doing okay without me.
Do you ever reminisce or has the ink in your pen forgotten my name?
A toxic love, part depression part anger, a poisonous concoction, somehow so addictive.
You left traces of sorrow on my skin that sinks deep to my bones and flows through my bloodstream.
A bitterness so strong it shakes every muscle in my body.
I could never forget the way you controlled every fiber of my being.
I remember the butterflies that once danced in my stomach, but they've been replaced by a tornado.
An unforgiving whirlwind of reasons why I will never be good enough for you to show remorse.
I will never be worth the apology that you could never admit I deserve.
You taught me how to soar, gave me wings so I could fly.
Feathers made of clouds until they dampened with the tears of a solitary night.
You were never sorry.
Indifferent to the scars on my flesh that screamed your name, caused by the pain you brought me.
You can't erase the wounds by telling me to be sorry.
Seeking repentance for the blood you sought after.
You found delight in my pain, a serpent attracted to my weakness.
I could never forget the smile that you held steady as I fell down Mount Everest.
-k.d
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 12:19 PM UTC
As I scale the slope
I note the melody of the wind
With its sweeping symphonic shifts
My nails grind against granite
Before flaking and falling into the abyss
Yet I persist
Upward along the lone path
Where the air recedes like tides
And frost forms fellowship upon my eyes
Before seeking to turn my sore limbs, frigid
Icily assuring each ache is anchored in anxiety
Which stems from the worn clothes of society
Yet as I climb, the fabric is discarded
Like old styles of yesteryear
Now basking in all my naturalness
I finally summit, my thoughts thankfully descend
My heart lifts up its scepter and then my chin
Beating with Brilliance it grins
Furls up it sleeves and wordlessly begins
The work of healing from within
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
Like a lotus emerging
Unsullied
From the mud,
So have you appeared,
In this world,
Yet not of it.
I consider myself
Most blessed of all men
For having glimpsed upon your face.
Not even Michelangelo,
With all his magnificent frescoes,
Could have conceived of such beauty.
The most flowery prose of Marquez wilts,
Inadequate to fully describe your radiance.
The supple, rich compositions of Mozart
Are a rancorous cacophony
Compared to the melody of your voice.
Your entire being is a testament
To the masterful craftsmanship of our Lord.
I may circumnavigate this world
Sample the most luscious of delicacies
Climb the lofty peak of Everest
Swim the English Channel
Trek the Ural Mountains
Watch the Caribbean sunset
Walk the entirety of the Great Wall
But none of these
shall hope to compare with
the blissful moment
When my eyes fell upon you.
It was truly a day of days,
One which no other can rival.
You stood out
A swan
Regal in its repose
Amongst
Ducks
Babbling away
In their ignominy.
I have found my muse --
Alas! --
But for a moment.
Yet I shall not rage.
Neither shall I weep.
Just because
He got to you first.
Just because
He is
Perhaps
More worthy
Of you.
I shall not fly
Into a maelstrom of emotion
Sulk with resentment
And seethe with envy
Just for losing
Something
Someone
I never even had.
Just because
She will never be mine.
I shall not have
To lower and abandon myself
To the maddening clutches
Of grief
To wantonly fling
My artless soul
At the burning altar
Of undignified melancholy.
For it is foolish.
Yet I cannot help
But do exactly this.
Act like the boy,
The child,
That I am.
For what else am I?
I am not a man
Like him
After all.
Not adequate
For anything
Resembling a soulmate
For anyone
Like her.
I can never hold you
In my arms
Never gaze
Into your eyes
My ears can never hear you
Whisper
Sweet nothings.
And
My lips shall never
Meet yours.
So what
Else
Can I do
But mourn?
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
The little Toblerone bar,
a sweet one he is,
with his heart all a flutter.
He wanted to be mighty,
with as much strength
as he could muster.
Powerful as the pyramids!
Cool as the Swiss Alps!
Majestic as the Everest!
He dreamed of it all;
to become
greater than China's Wall.
But what he never realized
Through his chocolate brown eyes
Was his pride before his own fall.
Like the Everest, Swiss Alps,
Even the mysteious Pyramids,
Humans have stripped them
of their treasure.
Because Toblerone was broken down
to be eaten just for pleasure.
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 12:35 AM UTC
Ragged mountains and rough terrains,
Withstanding storms and heavy rains.
Warm rays of sunshine bring light.
Bearing hues of black and white.
To the touch it feels like a freshly mowed lawn.
A promise of tummy tickling at dawn.
A relaxing walk in an uninhabited forest.
A tempestuous hike to the top of Everest.
You could be a renegade or a mad scientist
An investment banker or electric guitarist.
A biker's beard could be just as immaculate.
Rough as sandpaper or soft as velvet.
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 8:00 AM UTC
The splendour of glory,
Stretched beauty
Across the universe
That none could reverse.
Naturally occuring lights that leave any human mind in awe,
They're called auroras;that's not all..
Big is beautiful!when you take a look at these huge sights of divinity,
So gigantic they look like they've existed for infinity,
Located in Asia is the mount Everest,
King of the forest.
And in America;the Grand Canyon,
So grand I'd spell it in lights of neon.
The great barrier reef found in the Coral sea of Australias north eastern coast is so beautiful,
Naturally created by living organisms,its so beyond cool
More like the view of the Rio De Janeiro Harbour,
Another great sight to remember.
Talk of the beautiful,ever flowing and rainbowed Victoria falls,
How to fully describe it,only God knows,
Its location has brought its proud owners Zambia and Zimbabwe to unification,
Indeed its a great destination.
Sometimes flamey and always beautiful is the Paricutin a cinder cone volcano,
Located in Mexico.
As beautiful as they all are,
You're a better star
In the eyes of our creator.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
I have trouble at high altitudes
and I can't run more than a few steps without tiring
I'm a dancer but I gasp for air after
every performance
and my mouth tastes of pennies
I will never climb Mt. Everest
or smoke a single cigarette
I will not live in Beijing or own a cat
or be a deep sea diver
the best thing
they will ever do for me
is whisper your name
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 6:06 PM UTC
there was a little hedgehog adventure bound was he
and a mountain climber he just long to be
he took a trip to everest to see the mountain there
standing very tall high up in the air.
he took along his tent climbing ropes and all
up the big high moutain he began to crawl
using all his skill he began to climb
hedgehog took it slow he just took his time.
climbing up the face having lots of fun
he was really happy his adventure had begun
hedgehog he kept going till at the top was he
now he could be famous go down in history.
he had done the thing that he long to do
to be a moutaineer and be famous too.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
Today I'm happy.
Today I am Super Woman.
Today I scaled Mount Everest
and nothing could touch me,
nothing could shake my impermeable bliss,
today nothing could bring me down
from being so high.
And then you came along
and you
you stole away my breath,
made me aware of my elevation.
So, terrified, I jumped.
Now I'm tumbling down
the tallest mountain in the world
and the closer I get
to the
ground
the less I care
that I am
falling.
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 6:06 PM UTC
dear western society,
no one cares for the peasant who provides
the pheasant for the royal table -
but when the pheasant isn't there -
the royal orchestra cries out:
where's the pheasant! where's the pheasant!
as if both pheasant and peasant were alike...
indeed, the peasant isn't there to
provide the pheasant for the feast-
and with such vitriol you proudly say:
once these roaming stars that go against
all reason in cosmology disappear, you'll
know that i was here - you'll know -
perhaps the pyramids were only overshadowed
by the Eiffel tower, but many more pyramids
were mentally tattooed into the minds of men -
and rose far greater and were more
harder to overcome that man took to
climbing Everest - stone by stone his legs
encountered a new form of laying brick-on-brick -
for if western society deems me mad
to purge the old hopes of colonial rule - then
i have already chastised my body to have no heart,
and let it be carried on course toward Iran
or Afghanistan - and there entombed -
i hope Western society loves its humour as much
as it loves it's panic and paranoia and picnics
of waiting for the far right to wake up -
and this liberal-leftist mush of kind words to
be shoved into Disneyland of other fantasia.
yours sincerely,
Vermin.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 10:12 PM 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
The insane live forever,
lust lawlessly over all things conceived fascinating
to the validity and gluttony of the mind.
Brain feasters we live to strive,
exist to be,
all things so mundane to our gluttony,
we hunger for something on border lines,
the limits of human mumbling over morality.
Cease your everest squirming,
your infantile homage bearing,
you find so viscous an evil,
so vile a fiend in us the broken chains.
Godless we sing the marching banter of forlorn free will,
we have no conscience to bear,
no after thought found alive anywhere.
The psychopath lurches out about child like smiles,
lives a second agenda basis before any infant experiments sin upon innocence.
Born divine this mutant knows free will without restriction,
closer to a limitless ever enveloping power than any mortal.
Breed me a man slewing monster,
a shape shifting skeleton reaper,
those that fear this untouchable being,
this godless singularity,
fear the very will we wish to contort,
constrain,
control,
but a demon answers only to that of it’s own greed,
no man may quiet its roaring,
its heartless contortioning.
It’s an angel without a heart beat,
a cadaver with a taste for its own flesh,
make me a monster manufactured under every roof,
we’ve got too much human to feel.
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:29 AM UTC
Login?
14 April 2021
I would love to climb Mt. Everest
Conquer storied seas.
Login never gives peace or rest.
Seems I am never me!
Who in the world do they see?
Login never set me free.
Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 9:53 AM UTC
Beware all ye who enter here,
This is my heart.
And it is just as bad,
Nay worse,
Than any of hell's trespass,
It beats slow like the mockingbird doth crow,
Once in a blue moon,
And only at midnight,
The chill's it release would make the Morningstar,
Shiver in pain,
My gates are protected by demons greater,
Than the darkest Horror novel,
My own.
The Pits are more black than the darkest tar,
It is the color of my love and of my hate.
For dontcha know,
Its all one thing down here,
Bleeding freely,
Come on in and take a dive,
Just beware,
Not a one,
No God, Demon, Man wo or not,
Has of yet made it out of here,
Is there a treasure inside,
Maybe, perhaps... probably,
Its just the the pride of the thing,
Like climbing Mount Everest,
Or making it to dinner on time.
But I don't care.
Live or die,
The gates remain so very high
Climb them if you will.
One time I fell,
And I awoke in hell,
At first they fought,
For such a soul as me,
Until one such as Beelzebub,
Lord of the hosts he came along,
And he among the first he bowed,
Whispering in a yell loud enough to hear,
'We WILL be waiting for your return,
Lord of lords, king of kings,
Lion among lambs, hero among man,"
Awakening from such a dream,
In a sweat that made me hot,
I smiled for the first time in a long time,
As the blackness in my heart boiled,
And the gates grew,
I had a home in hell,
And Earth would be my THRONE.
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 12:14 PM UTC
Poetry is the air poets are the breath
poets sparkle like jewels of paradise
flourishes in garden of great poetry
poets matured like pearls in oysters
of vast ocean of their sub conscious
no need to ****** it from jaws of
crocodiles or to combat dragons
don't have to climb Everest
cross the burning Sahara
crawl in the dark belly
of the Pyramids
all they've to do is let the ink flow
let inspired words pass through prism
minds let contrive and conceive aglow.
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 9:07 PM UTC
Where I live, you see, is the future
which nobody saw coming but me,
and I guarantee, its truth,
I consider ants sentient, indeed.
I cringe for my imaginary Jain friends,
I just smashed another dozen scouting sugar ants,
and I sang to them as I did,
hoping their tiny antennae
knew the deal,
we throw ant-edibles in rodent safe containers,
out past the edge
of the motion sensors,
ants of all common sorts are welcome.
- because our fire ants have some how mellowed
- since arriving from Texas
on waves of dread… fire ants,
maybe that kind never got here. any way
- now, we live with them and all the others
- on the edge of the eastern pacific
- super colony that has no war
- on its inner or outer edges.
But one must consider ants
as sapient sentients,
senders of signals, wireless radio,
wee-tiny antennae vibes,
to sing a song ants can translate that says,
This human says: I shall **** all you send to my kitchen.
It is a thought song, you think it, as you ****
You might try it if, you consider
ants are not just pests, but
interesting life tools, for living in dirt
with no screens, lack so obvious it is
noticed by any with attention to antennae
as intense as
that that of Everest Pax, who in April began his sixth year…
Now, who
can hold the ant mind
long enough to imagine the queen,
with Ender-vision?
Through the eyes that watched me **** the scouts,
and signal boundaries to the Queen.
Jun 12, 2021
Jun 12, 2021 at 4:36 PM UTC
**In the shadow of Everest people are dying
Crushed in a chaos embirthed from beneath,
Emerged as destructor of temple and Taos,
Emerged as an innocent killer... bequeathed.
History crumbles as heavens roar mightily
Ghorka is dead in an avalanche of rock,
Beggars and potentates crushed in the brickfall
Dharahara’s fall leaves men gaping in shock.
Shuddering mountains in avalanche of free fall
Wails of the stricken as quaking defiles,
Gold topped pagodas and statue of ancients,
Sculpture of lions now a rubble in piles.
Khathmandu in the clasp of calamity
Nightmarish forces arisen from deep,
Grasping the earth in their grip of profanity
Monstrously tearing the bedrock from sleep.
A techtonic ****** of Asia by India
Nepal’s Himalayas ****** to the sky,
Inconsequential, this plight of humanity
Nature proceeds as poor Nepalese die.**
M.
ANZAC Day 25 April 2015
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC