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Alex Hoffman Sep 2015
Though the first carried more miles, the second day of the hike was totally and unapologetically uphill. 
When you ascend, hiking becomes the zen of endurance.



First, you are stripped of all the pleasures of hiking. Your excitement is boiled into lactic acid. Your love for the trail is baked, hardened and dehydrated into thoughts of laying down in the sun until the heat shrivels you into an unconscious raisin.



Try as you may to put on your “isn’t hiking just a slice of heaven?” face, strangers passing you on the downhill stride can only see your “PLEASE GOD, HELP ME OR ******* **** ME” face.

As much as hiking really is a small slice of heaven, there is no denying the living-death of taking 10 straight miles to the knees under the chaffing hell of a 50 pound sack in the relentless sun. 


But when you’re back in an office, sitting on your cushy little ergonomic chair, you long for the sweat and the torture that forces your mind to the ankle deathtraps of mountain terrain. To the deep valley behind and below you, and the crystal basin at the foot of the granite Giants.



The worst thing you can do is ignore the pain—that makes it relentless. Instead you focus on the pain until you become it. The only thing left is the moment between each step, when you remember why you are here and what it is worth. Every time your foot touches dirt, it leaves twice the footprint. One on the mountain and another in your memory where you will safeguard the misery of your ascent and hold on for dear life. One day, when your knees are too weak and your body can no longer table your pack, all the pleasures and joys of the trail that you once thought dissipated in the steam of uphill toil will come rushing back with the magnified strength of every year between you and the present you once knew and respected enough to actually live.

And if you didn’t, if you let it only be pain to get through and not to focus or dwell on, then that is what it is and will always be. A dull memory of pain, dark and somber and incomplete.
Wrote this after a backpacking trip to Yosemite Valley. It's accompanied by a photo, which you can see here: http://www.theplaidzebra.com/how-to-embrace-the-zen-of-hiking-with-purpose/
SomeOneElse Feb 2019
It's been raining all night and day
And I know just what you'll say
You won't go out when it rains
Except to hike a mountain range
But I long to be with you
Hold you tight the whole night through

I want to be your hiking trail
Or the sea on which you sail
I long to be your fairytale
Let you explore in all detail
Just want to be your hiking trail

Forecast says rain again today
So in your house you decide to stay
Won't go to parties, run errand or shop
When outside there are raindrops
When it Rains you go on strike
Cept maybe for one of your  hikes

I want to be your hiking trail
Or the sea on which you sail
I long to be your fairytale
Let you explore in all detail
Just want to be your hiking trail

Doesn't matter rain or shine
I just want to make you mine
We could go out or just stay in
Either way with you I win
I just want to be with you
To hold you tight the whole night through

So let me be your hiking trail
Or the sea on which you sail
And let me be your fairytale
To explore in all detail

I just want to be your hiking trail
My first attempt at writing a country song. Written for and inspired by a friend.
NutellaRox May 2015
The mountain lies in front of us;
Beauitful and breathtaking,
I was hot, but i did not fuss,
And i was looking forward of when we would swim in the lake.

We start the climb,
I see a water bottle stand,
That costs a dime.
i go off the track to get the water, then i sit on the dry land.

We continue up the rocky trail.
I am more tired then ever,
so my legs start to fail.
But i will never stop, never;

As the view is exhilarating.
I see my  town from far away,
So breathtaking.
I then see a flock of blue jays.

After the hike, my desire for a nap is deep.
I sludge to my room.
I start to sleep.
as i nap, the experience of hiking looms.
This is my first poem. Please be nice <3
Matt May 2015
You know something like 200,000 dollars
Was spent to educate me

And here I am on Amazon
Wishing I could afford to order two
Pair of hiking socks instead of one

I'll use my debit card for this transaction
And make the payment on my credit card this month
And then I will be able to order a second pair
Lol
Matt May 2015
Found someone to hike with
Hiking is enjoyable
When you have someone
To have a conversation with
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
A-Start the best part*
A-Healthy heart breakfast

Not so fast slow down of prayers
Just come and arrive
Sheer whispering Dress Aline
shapes of water are mine

The Green Gables sweeter lime
The twins whisper in doubles
The pink fur Hello Kitty
My best of the cattle in couples
Meet her friend the Furry Sable

The loud whisperers stealing hearts
Of sleepwalkers
They call her the wanderer
He whispers and she's the keynotes
"Her Real Estate' A-Steal for her estate diaries

But their children love to whisper

The crayons Highlights of the wonderland
Building more Ancient dreams

Stealing the grapes of whisper escapes
Like  A-dream planted to remain
A steal cannot take that away
Even if it's you're last meal

Walking with the one you love for miles
Come on baby light my fire
Whispering Morrison door to save
A dream to give the world peace
Like wishing well pulling the rope

Whisper could that be your prayer of hope?*
The guitar the invisible impossible star
And he steals another dream  
Whispering shadows pass like clouds

Australian Malamutes doing the salute *

Got strung along
And lost you

*A-STEAL for an eye for an eye
     HEART
  just give a life

Whispering over again wasn't
the way to play smart
Losing my voice
How to trust someone's words
So hard like the concrete
The abundance of food
Ala carte or Dente

A-Steal dream putting it
into your mind

Whispering Falltime Women in her
Acorn-SHOE* prime time
Walk-in closet Godly light
Like the Viking of swords
Knight

Where to go who will ever know
Not a pin drop of a slight whisper
Clasping or gasping for air
The Holy Water was left

For the delicate minds
of the deer
That light talk of resistance
Lips of acceptance

With her silken pillows
Tied their dreams
Sopping wet rain
The French soothing whispering rainfalls
Wearing her trenchcoat
Whispering her sugar words
He could find me peace
to my river
Like two peas in a pod to float
A Steal how love can tweed his coat
My difference is hearts like "
Owl Hoot"
Just feel you know what's real
Often told the end is truly the taste
to breathe
Even if you are deep inside her dream
To justify her means
Like the Queen to the Diplomat
The highest authority

You almost felt only your whisper the priority
The Aristocrat cleaning up your
bad dreams
*High beams a spoiled love
Like a *** for the Tat

Not the fairytale Dr. Seuss
Cat in the Hat- or the desperation
of one last whisper
Up the sunrise eyes are speechless
The Astral my Goddess
You are the creature of the night
Shining the light never ending the battle night

Smells of baked cake through your nostrils
Rocky mountains of Colorado dreamy caves

Hearing  sounds but living in the distance
The romance blinded like a ghost
winning out the odds

The Even lovers like the Gods whisper
Canadian waterfall talking love deeper

Doing Pilates what *Yogalates loving the
yodeling dreaming watching him the diver
Going dirt biking just love the dreamy feel of hiking

"Hearing Attention ****** in the Summertime"

All blue eyes what a dreamer
The good Earthly brown so worthy
The Cafe Eyes

A steal dream like a spilled milk
Our cat "Jade Eyes" did I hear you
correctly an heir?


Summer the Kings speech air
The assembly line
Good and the bad memories
The years getting away with ******
The law of attraction what a steal in order

Erasing someone's scent
A- million stars you found your truth
Looking outside of your dream
Was your *Godly
tent
Whispering has many advantages and its amazing to see someone in your dream like your lover the mountains hiking or dirt biking and the change of seasons to *******
Denel Kessler Jan 2016
He is
walking the white line
his arm a repetitious arc
sounding a single tone
timed to the pace
of hiking-boot feet
treading the pavement.

Saffron robes have grayed
over long meditative miles
witnessed by curious commuters
riding the pendulum away
from his purposeful daily counterpoint
the freedom held
in rhythmic ritual

how the mind stills and gathers
in the swinging blur of hand and stick.

I roll the window down
seeking precious solace
as I hurtle past
knowing
he walks for me too
I want to stop the car
fall in behind

feel the timeless drum
the stillness of salvation.
This monk where I live does a walking mediation while striking a traditional drum, usually along a busy highway.  He's done this daily, for many, many years.  Every time I pass him, I feel this way...
jane taylor Jun 2016
how i have ached to walk amongst the evergreens
encased by dazzling quaking aspen
in my rocky mountain home

i yearn to fall again while skiing
and catch a wisp of icy sky blue
snow powder crystals
on my tongue
******* feelings
rise and fall
as they melt
and disappear

i long to breathe in your scent
sitting on the peak of wooded ridges
amidst slate colored boulders
sea salt combined with cinnamon
laced with wildflowers
crisply filling my lungs

i hunger to once again
behold again your red rock formations
creating tender hollows
through which timid coral sunsets peer

i crave hiking at dusk
into your jagged emerald forests
and sit wistfully mid the columbine
while darkened sunflowers juxtapose
against the jet black emptiness
enticing the stars
to etch enchanting paintings
on inky cobalt skies

hankering to be at the sundance film festival
coyly peeking into restaurants
covertly spying on the movie stars
on old park city main

itching to experience waiting patiently
for a moose to cross the street
its majesty splashing gingerly
sending chills throughout the galaxy
magnificence abounds

i pine to have memories gently cradle me
like worn out patchwork quilts
warmed by incandescent fires
wrapping me in soft colored canvas
the past craving transformation
by an echo that’s now dim

faintly crying out for
an old familiar artist’s brush
that still lingers
to snag times gone by
and paint the future in

amalgamating the antiquated
with the present
luring in
my destiny

i dream to don my fringed leather jacket
and hear my cowboy boots
fiercely clicking
against charcoal shadowed midnight sidewalks
while i watch the harvest moon

i’m parched too see your autumn chestnut leaves
against the bloodshot auburn sky
as cardinal hues give way to glistening winter
melding into tender spring

your summertime birthing
tingles down my spine
as chartreus aspen leaves
morph to golden bisque
enticing ute country
to blow in
copper colored indian summers
with cherry fragrant wind

yutaahih you were called
by the apaches
their historic essence
somehow ingrained within
my every cell
thirsty to lie enveloped
like a long lost lover
in your rugged western terrain

once having left your presence
i return to you now
my heart flutters
with wild anticipation
to see your precious face again
utah

©2016janetaylor
after a 5 year absence, we are returning to utah at the end of this month
vircapio gale Oct 2015
sunset, sunrise hikes ~
Trillium on Blood mountain ~
true love song blooms


yogasutra song
hiking appalachee trails
with two i love


Rhodedendrons clap,
lush applause to Springer's call--
water in the sky



a tuskless walrus
   chases me up the ladder--
crowds smile through glass*








.
the last one is from a dream. i'm also confused
WistfulHope Apr 2015
When I look out and see the Boston skyline

I whisper like you're still here next to me
     I whisper like you can here me
          I whisper like you never left
               I whisper like I'll be okay
                    I whisper like it won't bring a tear

And sometimes you whisper back.
Megan Hundley Apr 2012
Sometimes, it takes a rope with split ends,
steep foot holes and time limits.
Red earth worms and a speech- I listen; I [do] not understand
30 second pulses and a swinging braid
always fall for waves of fog, lost in forced discovery
each shoe string is reminiscent, touch opaque cracking
dissolved into the rapids rapidly refreshing moss wigs
heels pressed against soprano rain water
shaking ripples, this swelling log has the answer

I could have made it up the hill
I could have found my way
I could have chosen
differently
old memories
Adam Jan 2015
The view from here is unbelievable. The ground lightly covered with white powder. Complete silence. So peaceful, yet scary.

As I look to my left, I notice my friend disappeared. But his footsteps were still there.

My head is all ****** up now.

The wind picks up as I look up to the sky.

There he is, just hanging there. Ready to die.

The wind turns to whispers and the whispers turn to cries.
"You're the one thats going to die"

I look to my right, towards the dark green pine. And there he is standing there, black balloons for eyes.

The white powder dyed red. His voice stuck in my head.

"I brought you out here to die"  

I fell to my knees. It was the perfect plan.

Never go hiking "alone" with a "friend"
athene May 2015
escape the deluge of grays
supposed hallowed streets
pavement, machines
splashing of rain being choked
out by tires squealing
no meaning here
just a spare soul outside
find it by rejecting
everything lit by a screen
CK Baker Mar 2019
~ Ode to Spring ~

Cherry blossoms filled with bloom
rhododendron’s sweet perfume
warming winds feign summer’s breeze
songbirds singing from the trees

Open windows, déjà vu
sunsets filled with graceful hues
families gather on their strolls
Mother Nature for the soul

Baseball season at the park
evenings lifted from the dark
daylight savings' finally here
patios for wine and beer

Cleaning house and planting seeds
rebirth fills the days and deeds
picnic baskets, hummingbirds
poets find their way in words

Kaleidoscope of bedding plants
shorts in favour over pants
farmers markets, garage sales
power-wash the decks and rails

Hiking, tennis, gardening
inhale the freshness of the spring!
painters, sculptors shape their art
gather here with grateful hearts
Funeral processions
Spontaneous
Money, Money, Money
Bridges to Neverland should exist.

Wedding party
Music
Fall leaves
Breaks winter.

Intuition floods the sauna of life gated in
By the strong arms of the whispering trees.
******* profit, taking advantage of the sheltered
Wallets of men plagued by the insensitivity and greed
of the less mature.

*******, sir, for charging innocent minds and hungry souls
To enjoy the entrancement of the world
Far older than you
something I wrote during the drive to a hiking trip
preservationman Aug 2014
The Washing machine that fits comfortably in a backpack
It means being prepared and not in lack
Your clothes will be clean like a tack
The mission is too carefully pack
Take the portable miniature washing machine wherever you go
Your ***** clothes you won’t have to show
The true clean puts you in the know
Turn hiking dirt into a kirk
The refreshing clean with the assistance of detergent Mr. Clean
***** cleans will become lean
Tough on stains and dirt with after being clean
Hike up any trail and mountain being confidence
Refreshed clothes as your testimony in instance
Pack that portable washing machine and let it turn your hiking experience into endurance
Convenience in the wilderness
Outdoor clean in the happiness
The stains that will come out
Add another detergent of Shout
Now that’s what I am talking about.
Matt Jul 2015
I hope to meet a hiking goddess

Maybe when I go to Yosemite

In my dreams

She has similar interests as I do

She enjoys history and philosophy

She is fit

And has a powerful

And athletic body

She can even squat more than me

In my fantasy

And with those powerful legs

Can easily pin me down


We hike the trails together

And at night

I give her oral pleasure

For hours on end


What a way to spend

A few days at Yosemite


I told her about my pledge

Of chastity

And it is so hard for me
(literally, lol)


She came equipped with many toys

And so I put on
My chastity belt
Just as she requested

She is staying in another tent
I take a peak
And see a taller
More powerful man

Caressing her with his hands!

I cry a bit inside my tent

She told me she was a ****** too
And I won't let that man
Take her virginity away

No, not ever
Not on this day

I steal her away
From that man

Virgins we will both remain
I tell her
He will just leave you
*** is a dangerous game

And so better companions
We came to be

Me providing oral pleasure
And both of us

Committed to
Our pledge of chas-ti-ty
Are there any women who are around 30 who are committed to a pledge of chastity?  I hope to meet one maybe one day.
am i ee Feb 2016
tall red rubber boots on this rainy morning
bring me joy, happiness.
stomping in the puddles,
hiking in the wet wet leaves.

standing still as the raindrops
pour down over umbrella,
drops pounding the pond with intensity,
watching mother nature in action.

still winter but with little
signs of spring emerging.
green green shoots of jonquil leaves,
a bit of sun and warm will bring color.

for now the trunks of the trees are grey
and branches bare.
crows caw on this quiet wet morning
flitting from branch to branch before taking flight.

raindrops mix with creek water,
rushing down over rocks
and logs,
dams created.

such beauty and peace
on this raw morning,
such profound love is found
in the stillness and silence...

in Mother Nature
in the Tao.....
david kent Aug 2010
Do you feel like getting out of here and hiking to a far off distant place?
We could pack a bag and bag a lunch and follow the wind of intuition.
We could start all over and buy brand new shoes for all the brand new roads we find,
and instead of thinking of talking we can talk of our thoughts
the ones that we’ve fought so hard to share but never could.
And we would walk until we wear out the soles by exploring the roads we both choose to walk.
And we would talk until we tear out our souls and we would choose to explore them together.
We could live off the land, but mostly each other, and I would carry you if you got too tired to even stand.
And it wouldn’t matter if we ever got to where we were going
because we never knew where that was in the first place,
and because all the things we had been looking for we had found along the way.
If you agree than you must see that to stay here would be a crime to you and me both.
So please, let’s grab our coats and go
and we’ll draw our own map and we’ll follow the moon,
for I’ve waited and waited to take this walk
but just realized with whom.
Alexis J Meighan Oct 2012
A dads uniform
                          (Now my own)


           On any given day I saw the many faces of a man.
I watch him play his roles like they were well rehearsed scenes.
He was a star in his own actions, drama, thrillers and romance.

         He wore his soldiers uniform on sunday, torn jeans, white T-shirt with no sleeves and abrasions and scrapes gave stripes to his big arms.
He had oil on his hands and grease on his chin, barking orders as he worked on the car.
" Hand me that 3/4 standard and torque it to the 5th notch"
"What!? What the **** language was that?" I thought to myself as I awkwardly reached for the 1st thing my eyes spotted and held it up.
"That's a hammer Alex!" He said shaking his head as he smiled and walked toward me. He rarely had a disappointing tone. Later he explain the workings of a standard torque wrench Vs a metric wrench with converter. 10 years later I used that wrench to change my Edelbrock Electronic Carburetor 400 series twin stoker all by myself.

    I once saw him defend his honor. That day he wore  his heroes uniform as he leaped from person to person striking, grabbing, kicking, and throwing the 3 large men who underestimated his ferociousness. His tank top was ****** from the wound on his nose. His hat fell to the dirt next to the beaten, unconscious, and humiliated foes that once stood before him.
I could see that he intended to continue his lesson in respect but as he glanced over to see my wide open mouth and unmoved stare he quickly contained his aggression. He picked up his hat and shook it a few time to knock the dirt off. In that moment was another unexpected act. He help the worst of the men to a sitting position and asked him if he was ok. He was genuine in his concern that he may have been excessive in his judgment.
Later that night he explain to me that violence should never be the 1st choice for a solution and our actions should reflect the person we want people to see.
I would remember this 15 years later when sitting with the man I just choked unconscious, letting him drink my gatorade and catch his breath moments after he attempted to robbed me at knife point. In that few minutes I learned his life story. My friends said my actions were foolish.

            Duct tape and crazy glue are the tools of every street born medic.
T-shirt gauzes and boiled stones often made his grace when he wore his First aid uniform.
      
        As a kid I did DUMB very well, from gun powder soup, to a game of dart board hands. One of the more gruesome moments was my apple cutting malfunction. I severed my finger at the base pretty good. I cut right through the knuckle at the base of the index finger. It was the 1st time I fainted. Its still a debate weather it was the loss of blood or sight of it. Like a seasoned veteran he jumped into action. While most doctors would  use a coagulant like Lanxess, iodine and 22 gauge suture for this injury but not this man. He opted for all purpose flour, beer and duct tape to disinfect and seal the wound. Even though it was 3 hours before the emergency room would clean and repair the damage, I didn't shed another drop of blood while his homemade fix was in place.
I learned a lot of (what his friends called Ni**a rigging) first aid tips from him.
12 years later, while on a training exercise with  my CCC group in the forrest, a grade worker suffered a compound fracture from a slip and fall while hiking. I used a heated licorice root as antiseptic and 2 flat rock, my shoe in soles and a belt to mend and set his arm well enough to hike 2 miles back through the trail till we found help.

          When I write my poetry I never know what it is people see or interpret from it. I know the workings of romance and I know the power of its application. The day he wore his Casanova uniform I witnessed 1st hand the great reward a little effort can bring 2 people in love.
         On a normal day in the park us kids ran around yelling and screaming while him and mom sat on the grass watching us play. In the moments of a physical dilemma I sat next to him to catch my breath as he talk to her about random things. I knew my presence was interfering with whatever moment him and my mom were having but I was too intrigued by the task he was performing on the side to care.
On the reverse of a box top he drew a picture of a monkey sitting on a tree in the middle of the water. It was handing a flower to a mermaid sitting on a rock. I never forgot the joy on my moms face when he handed it to her and said "this is us."
I saw that picture everyday displayed on her mirror. Here I am 25 years later looking at my own art and words displayed across the walls of my home. My wife often looks at her description in the words and her name in the titles. Our own son invades our personal space as we sneak kisses and exchange affection through his predictable intrusions.

        My own uniforms hang in my closet waiting for interpretation from onlookers.
Suit up and be seen, or close your eyes and remember his many suits. Your in my thoughts. I hope this finds its way to you.
        Love
              -Alex J Meighan-
A long time when I was ago when others knew what I knew not but now I know when the sun was just a burning place that stars itched in the night and the sketches made with lemonade which somehow came out right, where the sandwiches were filled with sand and the ***** did not have sticks and the tide marched up in two and threes and the deckchairs tricked our hands. that was the time when I was ago and the time I did not know.
Age rolled in on the twelve thirty-four, the puffed out billy knocking on my door, I wish I'd worn myself real slow
a long time when I was ago.
William A Poppen Nov 2013
Snap, crack, snap -- twigs break underneath
Each burst is music fed deep into her heart
Balmy air blows crisp across her cheek
A kiss as sweet as a daughter's caress
Pride inhaled with each labored breath
Seventeen miles of inclines and slopes
Over fallen trees and swollen creeks
Intentional steps, stitches of success sewn into
the blanket of her soul as she
wanders along the path of her
journey to renewal
*  http://www.cumberlandtrailraces.com/HOME.html
Alan Maguire Mar 2013
A is for Adam the Aardvark and his band the African Ants
B is for Broderick the bumble bee who thinks they are pants

C is for a cynical cat named Crusoe
While D is for Darwin the delightful deer
E is for Eric the elephant who always drinks my beer
F is for Fernando the Fox but in Spain he known as  Zorro
He lost his wife Matilda last week and is now brimming with sorrow
G is for Gerald and yes he is a Giraffe
He wore odd socks last Tuesday and made Heinrich the Hyena laugh
Imelda is an Iguana and she is quite immense, though she is really old but has unstoppable sense.
Jack the Jackal has a regular name but he is an assassin and has a pretty good aim
K is for Kimberly who happens to be a kangaroo but she doesn't live in the outback anymore because she lives in London Zoo

Laramie the Llama lives south of the United states , he loves hiking in the mountains but one thing he hates, is being mixed up with Arnie the Alpaca.

Monty the Moose loves drinking maple syrup and playing ice hockey,
yes he is a stereotype but I am his Jockey
Nero the Narwhal is the unicorn of the deep, he loves scaring sailors and loves to sleep
Olive the Orangutan is a neighbour of Kimberly the kangaroo
but they have a plan to escape from London Zoo.

Pug is a Pig , just a regular pig, but he wishes to be ferocious and really big
Quentin is a quail and buddies with Pug, he likes eating sunflower seeds but never a slug
Ramon the Rhinoceros also dwells in the Zoo and is part of the escape plan with The red ape and kangaroo , he'll actually be the one to bust them out,
but to get his attention you really must shout.

Sylvia slithers, Sylvia is sleek if you were a mouse and saw her, you'd go EEK!
Terence T. Tiger is terrified, because he was asked to escape from the Zoo,
yes with the Red ape , Rhino and Kangaroo.

Ulysses is a horse who super glued a horn to his fore-head , he wanted to be the last known Unicorn because he heard that they were all dead. Vincent is a Bat, just a Vampire Bat,
he doesn't really like blood but is enemies with Crusoe the Cat.

Warren the wolf has many female fans but spends half the day with Eric the Elephant drinking my cans .Xenops is not an alien , it's just a rain forest bird, I'll give you more info as soon as I've heard
Y is for Yul and I don't mean the bald actor , this Yul is a yak but does watch the X factor
Z is for a Zebra named Zak and yes he does know the Yul the Yak , they were introduced by a certain kangaroo, and now it's their job to visit London Zoo
Shaded Lamp Aug 2014
Goodbye  wasps
Goodbye  bees
Goodbye  pollen from the trees
Goodb­ye  midges
Goodbye  flies
Goodbye  scorching cloudless skies
Good­bye  seagulls
Goodbye  ants
Goodbye  sunbathers in tiny pants
Goodbye  sunburn
Goodbye  oiled skin
Goodbye  iced drinks laced with gin
Goodbye  tourists
Goodbye  throngs
Goodbye  men wearing sarongs
Goodbye  hosepipe
Goodbye  lawn  mower
Welcome  to the no­isy leaf blower
Hello  Autumn
Hello  cool bright day
Hello  rolli­ng around in the hay
Hello  harvest
Hello  fruits
Hello  hiking in hiking boots
He­llo  warm colours
Hello  warm hearts
Good riddance Summer
Autumn starts
Mizanur Rahaman Sep 2013
With all his World pulling him back,still
He left for the other side one fine morning,
He was a traveler and that's the best he could be.

With hunger and thirst ruling all the way
he did not give up to seek something that
can fill his emptiness that he felt being in
the middle of everyone with everything.

With wandering eyes he saw the world like
a baby bird first opened it's eyes getting surprised
at every steps he took,everywhere he went.

But one day while wandering here and there
he met a beautiful girl somewhere at the corner
of the earth and immediately fell for her charming beauty,
her mesmerizing lips,her integrity and grasp over making
dull things into attracting events.

He spoke out his heart to her and started to get
closer and closer and he was reciprocated likewise.
Even she got drawn to him hearing his mind blowing
Stories of traveling the world alone.

Every thing was so perfect,but here comes the traveler
into act and defeats the lover and said to himself-
"Oh dear lover,I have still got to see so much world
around ,dont stuck to her.lets leave,thats how you started
from and thats what you are,make yourself free and
make the journey to the unseen,you can not stay with her"  

With every possible love existing inside him,he
Chooses to go.He knew this could be his lifetime
spending with this lady but he has to leave now.
But the unseen world keeps more joy for him
than to sink into this never ending beauty, and finally
he decides to go.

I dont know whether they met again or not.
but I say when and how can a true lover
and an honest traveler co exist?
Inspired by a true story...
Breeze-Mist Jul 2017
One of the best things in life
Is hiking up a massive hill
Reaching the top and seeing the light
As water cascades into a pond where birds trill
And you set down your pack to breathe
And wade knee deep in mountain forest air
And then lie back against cool stones in ease
And bend back to let the current rinse your hair
Verdae Geissler Jun 2013
I met a girl when she picked me up while  I was hitch hiking back from the health food store.

Her name is, well, I’ll call her “Mirror”. She was seventeen, with three different colors in her hair,and she was driving this great big mafioso looking thing down an old country road.

AND she picked me, a hitch hiker, up. like it was it was no big thing to her.

My first response after the normal howdy do’s, was;” Okay, first off, we are on this desolate back road, in the middle of BFE ,and corn fields forever. How do you know that I am not going to pull out a gun or a knife and slit your throat, or blow you away for your ride, or WORSE?”

She snickered and said,”Cause’ I can tell .”You aren’t that kind of person!”

My responsewas ,”How can you even  pretend to know THAT?”

She comes back with; “I can just tell”!

“Anyway, aren’t you glad I picked you up?’

“Of course!” I said, “but you need to be more careful!”

She dropped me at my house, and that was that.

I was left with hoards of memories sweeping my mind. Memories of myself at her age, along with her responses to my concern, and her total disposition, I knew I was staring into a mirror of my past!

I would, for sure, be seeing her again!

It was approx. two weeks later that I saw her, in a little mustang, as I was walking my dog on that same old road.

She pulled of as she turned the stereo down, I think it was blasting some new girl band, “Hey girlfriend” she says with this sweet little sideways glance, as if she’d known me for a lifetime, “whatcha up to?”

Having done the small talk thing, we decided ot hang out.
So she came over to the house, we talked.
As I got to know her situation a bit better, I knew.
... I was looking into the mirror of my past once more.
I had been placed into her life for a very special mission.

I also knew in my heart that, according to what she was telling me, she was headed for the same path of disaster and destruction, I had, not so long ago, put my own self  through.
It had all started at her exact age. but I did not, at this point know what to do about helping her.
...But it would come! ...yes, it would!

I found out, a little more than a year later, i could not have done anything to stop it from happening, when I met her. ...In her beginning...
It was during the “aftermath” or the “beginning of the end”, where I would be called back into her life to “play my part” so to speak.
So...
It was about a month ago, I just happened to be browsing through a thrift store, in Spruce Pine, with my neighbor. As I stood there, looking at an old quilt I wanted, but could not afford, I heard that  soft, sweet, little voice call me by my name.

”Romy?’ “Is that yooouuuu?!”
“*** I can’t believe it!”,
.....and so on and so forth.

My sweet friend from the road by my house, was there, was handing out Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

Mind you, I knew what this meant...
...She’d gotten herself into some kind of trouble.
And now, she was doing community service for it.

Sure enough she had.

I gave her my  telephone number, and that was that.

It was about three days ago when I got a phone call.
It was her.
She asked if she could come by to see me that afternoon, after school.
She needed to talk.
She actually did come on by.

Here we are some years later. I am scared.
Not for myself , physically, but something told me my time was up.
The gig was up.
The angels had finally found a way.
For me.
For her.

Now.
I need to back up to two years ago, so that you can get a real sense
of what is really going on here…..

After our first meeting, after she came back by my trailer,  in the cow pasture, the first time,
She hung with me the whole summer, and then into fall.
I got to know her parents very well.
I n their eyes I'd become a big sister/baby sitter for her.
She thought of it as just hanging out.
...a place away from her Dad, but close to her home.
She had never been with a boy, she explained,
but she'd made an attempt at a relationship with a girl at school, which turned out disastrous.
It even landed here in trouble at school, with the cops, and with the DSS, here in Yancey County.
(a place no one would ever want to land!)

Her mom was going through chemo and radiation, and so was I.
I was uncanny.
I had at least SOMETZHING, one thing, in common with almost every member of her family.
I became part of her family!

I knew from my own life and my experiences,  
she was dabbling in some kind of drug activity.
I just did not know what at first.

Made myself a promise.
I would find out what was really going on with t his girl.

Once I got her to open up to me.
I discovered she was stealing her dad’s 40mg Oxycontin and his 1mg klonapin out of his locked box.
This only AFTER he'd been giving them to her when she turned fourteen.
She was not only snorting them, but she was selling them as well!

I also did some digging, and found, she was getting in with some pretty savory characters.
Of course it wan't long, before she met this guy...
He was handsome, manipulative, and cunning.
But most of all, he had a raging monkey, the size of Detroit, on his back!

Only I could see him for the ****** ******* he really was.
I tried many tricks to expose him.
Her partents were blinded by his enamering.
His story was easy:
..he had been in the military, only to come home to a trailer trash wife, on drugs, of course, who had neglected their four year old child.
He'd come home just in time to play the knight in all his armour....!
I KNEW better!

But when I tried to warn her parents
they would hear nothing of it!
They refused to see in him
the evil that i could....

So when she started seeing him, I went to her parents with my premonitions.
They told me I was over  reacting.
And that i had become attached to their daughter, that I should just stay away for a while.
Her mom’s exact words were:
”I mean really, Romy...
" He is a MARINE for goodness sakes... !"
"... and the only reason he is home right now, is to save that yungin' from his drug addicted mother!”

UGHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I had to let go....

Only years later, it would come out,
To her parents and everyone.
...He was a **** and dilaudid ******.
His mother was one, as well.
They used the little boy for food and money,
as well as their own selfish adgenda of feeding
that monkey from Detroit,
and the disease he brought with him.
They conned everyone from welfare, to  churches, to the department of Social Services.

I remember a conversation a had with her mom, while trying to get her to realize what he really was.
It went like this:
mom: “How could you even say such things about him!”
I never said another word.
Only
In my mind I was screaming;
"Because I know this *******!
He is addicted to drugs!  
He told me so, in the beginning!
He bragged to me about how he’d been doing dilaudid with his MOTHER for years.
And, all  of us junkies know, the only way to do dilaudid, is to shoot it up in your veins!

"*******!”"
I said to myself.

"PLUS, I even know his  other name."
"THE NAME is Daniel!"

"I know him well!"
"I ruined most of my young life trying to win his love."
"Only I did not know then what  I was up against...."
"This addiction was more powerful than another woman, or anything else, for that matter!"

"There IS no match
  for it!"

...I was screaming this all to myself.
...I knew then.
I was talking about my own life experience.
The years I spen, hurting myself, all the while attempting to impress my first, and truest love of my entire life.
He almost proved to be the ruin of me!
...The man on whom I waisted more than half of my life!
He, who became the beginning of my end!
He was the beginning of a lifetime of  ****** addiction, tears, disappointments, lies, and horror!

As I saw it, he and this ******* were one in the same.

More importantly, I also knew, in my heart of hearts, he would be the beginning of  HER end.
He would prove to be the beginning of her  horror.
I also knew, if she were to end up staying with this nobody *******, for any length of time, she would, inevitebly begin sticking needles in her arms.
My bet would be she'd start within one year.

Sadly,  I was correct.
she was,
and had been,
sticking needles in her arm.

The way I found out went down like this:
(and thus my reason for writing this)

She phoned me, upset, and crying.
Don't ask me how, but I knew she was dope sick.
...Perhaps it was the quiver in her voice.
The desperation.
A feeling I knew all too well.

I told her to come over.
She did.
I'll never forget.
She was working at Mc Donald's, to pay her way through cosmetolegy school.
So she still had that Mc Donald's uniform on. (The one, I knew, she loathed with every part of her being!)
And bless her heart...
...She brought me a pie.

I told her she looked like ****.
Then I asked her to explain why she'd gone so long without having any contact with me.
(although I knew the answers to each of my questions, I asked them anyway.)

I gave her motherly/sisterly hugs, while attemting to make her feel loved.
(something she had not experienced often, at least, not without a price!)

I needed her to know, that no matter what she had to offer , for the time I hadn't heard from her, I would love her, and I would help her, and I would hold her, until she needed me to let go.

So.
It was after hugs, love, some understanding eye contact, I made the promise of understanding. She had to know, that  no matter what she might reveal, I would ALWAYS be in her corner. I would always be hers. I would be whatever she needed me to be.
..As long as I was helping her towards her self understanding,  towards love, and  towards happiness.

It was a few seconds after our long embrace and our moment of connection and understanding, when she took me into the bathroom.
She uttered these words, nervously, and with shame;
”Romy, Do you really want to know how bad I've gotten, how far I have now fallen?”
...Or perhaps her words were, in actuallity, more like "Romy, look at how bad this has gotten."
I am not sure which of the two is more correct, but I got the message loud and clear, and my heart broke.
Litererally, it broke into a million pieces.
My heart broke for her, but it also broke for the girl I once was, before my own demons came to visit.

I knew then, from the depths of my being,
how the scene would play out...
I knew the ending,
before it ever began.

In a moment I will share with you, the dialog that went on between us on that cold, cloudy, winter afternoon in Nowheresville, NC.
This is one conversation I shall, forever, remember until I take my final breath.
It will remain with me through lifetimes to come.
...It has become a part of me.

ME: ”So. have you learned how to do yourself?”
“Or is that why you are here?”
"If it  is the later, you've come to the wrong place."

She started to cry.

"I know how to hit myslef", she said.
H uge tears runnig down her face.
"You warned me, Romy." "And I didn't listen."
"How DID you know, anyway?"

I could not hold back the tears.  
They poured straight from the depths of my being.
Again, he I stood, once again, in front this georgous girl, who was destroying herself!
Again, all I could see was myself in the mirror!

I have yet to felt such a sadness within me, as the one I felt at that moment.

As she rolled up her sleeve, there it was...
a site too familiar..
Uncanny, it was.
How could this girl be the SAME?
Seriously!
...The same arm.
...The same hole.
...The same sore.
...The same color.
..The same sad and bewidered expresion.
It said. No, it screamed;
"Help me please! I'm so ******* gone!"
"Help me please!"
" You're all I've got!"

I wanted to turn and run a fast and far as I could get.
Heer she stood in front of me
Here she stood.
The exact ******* same as me.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't think.
I wanted to puke.
She
was
MEEEE!

The silence was broken by her voice, and by her expression.
She obviously saw my transition from a strong woman who cared so much,
into a womean who had turned white as a ghost.
Then she asked;
” How did you know, Romy?”
“How ever COULD you have known?”

I did not.
I could not.
Begin to answer her then.

But I thought to myself;
"How could I not?"

I left that tiny bathroom not knowing WHAT to do, or what to say.
I, for once,was at a loss.
For the first time in my life,
the words  would just not come!

I couldn't speak my usual words of incourgment.

Until she came to me, and gave me a hug.

...she has just left my house.
My heart is heavy.
She'd  come to me today, for reasons,
she herself,
could never have understood.

I went into my bedroom, whee she sat.
I asked her what she'd been up to that made her decide to call me.
She said she did not know.
She'd been out driving after work,
and so she'd just ended up calling.
Now she was at my place.

I shared with her the importance of truthfulness.
With oneself even more than with others.

Then I shared with her my story, and my reasons for caring so very much for  her well being.

I told her about the mirror I saw between us from the beginning.
..of my battle with herion addiction.
But I told her  also of the stubborn dream I'd carried with me for eighteen years because of a guy, just like hers.
I answered all of her questions.
I completed her sentences.
She completed some of mine.
I felt her heart breaking.
And I helped her to let go.

She was so shocked at what I shared with her, about myself,
and about my own life,
that it  literally brought her back to her self. I had somehow, reached her inner being.
She was able to return to her own reality, away from the deceit.
And away from the web of lies which had been woven around her.

I feel good!
I feel like she will be alright.

May hope is, through me, she was able to see how easily we can fall into someone else's need and addiction. How we make it our own by allowing someone elses demons drag us down, down into oblivion, and how their misery can, so easily, consume us. Then take over our very life!
IF we let it!

....I held her for a long time.
We cried together.
I cried for her.

I also cried for me.

I cried for the girl that I once was.

...Before Daniel.
                              ...Before Manhattan.
                                                      ­                                                
                                                                ­       ...Before the misery.

She cried her own tears for herself,
her kind heart,
and for what would never be.
She cried, grateful tears, knowing now she will no tso easily loss her way,
she knows the angels now. She can feel them guide her every day.
She is not alone.

I will forever be there for her.
wherever she may be.
...we are connected now.
...Little Miss Kim and me!

Her spirit is strong.
She will succeed.
She recieved what she needed most.
... A friend
... A kindred spirit.
...and  a bit of wisdom from little old
me.
Oh, and now I know why my Blackie walked me down the old country road.....
My sister, Kimberly, needed me!
Grace E Mar 2019
Black bark looms
Deep inside the misty forest
Moss intertwines
With branches
We hike side by side
Until we realize
We are chanting
A haunting composition
Of quiet wishes
And confessions to each other
Naked in each other presence
Yet fully clothed
Naked underneath these branches
We whisper our hearts
To the earth and each other
Silently
We scatter the ashes of our brokenness
Beneath the leaves
Lia Jul 2012
Oh! Remember that time with the guy in the place?
He had a blue jacket, the one with the face?
We were walking some street, on a simple quest,
To find chicken nuggets, and a place to rest
We had just watched a tape, oh what was it called?
The guy had blond hair or brown? Or, was he bald?
People were jamming around the subway station
I wish I could remember, **** conflagration!

Or that other time, when we tried to surprise,
But clever you would already surmise
And we searched every crevice, of that jungle-y zoo
While lil’ wandering kinds came up to you
Because you had a cool t-shirt and we did not
I shall always remember that very spot.

Or that average day, specifics I’ll not say
That we were doing some papier-mâché
And days, or weeks, or months, or later
When, you had a dream about an alligator
(it was actually a crocodile)

I brought you a present, ever so small
And with a knife, shiny and tall
We designed a marvelous work of art
Who could imagine that it would explode apart?

Or that other afternoon, we spent in the prickers
Jumping over annoying brown stickers
And tossing around a-- , I’ll say no more
Who would care, we weren’t keeping score
As red, yellow, orange were falling from above
Because we made them with a shove
And bagels and comics were lying around
As TV commercials played in the background

Hey, remember those times when we were so little
At the front desk, my head came up to the middle
When there were only “original” Pokémon
And you had a different house and lawn
I miss our games of trust, they were lots of fun
When all that we did was laugh and run

I remember drinking tea in the outside air
And sitting in a big red van praying for God us to spare
I recall “Sand” and flairs and quote
As we were digging our pirate moat
I enjoy our profound discussions and your denial
Of us doing anything but homework, while
We **** each other in the asphalt road at night
Act ridiculous in all the sight
Of people at Food Max, and you are jealous
Of old guys jogging, what befell us?

When Catherine is dancing with Russians and hasn’t energy to type
I will mumble under my breath and force her to skype
I know we both suffer without her sarcasm, bright
Your melodious tone is absent where you guys used to fight
Ah! Fond remembrance of backstage flashes
Of hairspray stiff wigs, sticky floors, and sweat on mustaches

Some day we will look back on all we have done
And think of each smile, each day under the sun
We’ll tell horrid stories to all of our kids
Of hiking through snow, eating rocks and some twigs

Somewhere, in that place, where there is no time,
There still is no Starbucks to spend our dime
But I think that now will be better than then
If we only can forget the “how” and “when”

There is no one but God who gets you and me
For who would subscribe to our philosophy
As we laugh half an hour over a crime just planned
Or a stupid movie that we watch “On Demand”
I think to myself, as red eyes fill with pus
That no one else thinks quite like us.
11/13/10
silentwoods Aug 2018
Let’s go way back
To a simpler time.
To our very first chapter:
The summer we were nine.

You were too cool,
And I was too shy.
You didn’t really like me,
Sometimes you made me cry.

It didn’t take long
To outgrow that phase.
We developed a bond
In what seemed like two days.

From hiking adventures
To countless sleepovers,
We conquered the world
And saved snapping turtles.

When times became tough,
You knew just what to say.
My pain was your pain,
You made things okay.

You knew my whole heart;
All the grief, all the joys.
We shared endless phone calls
and complained about boys.

Fast forward to now:
We’re on year twenty-two.
Some things may have changed
But our friendship stayed true.

We’re secure on our own
But we’re stronger together.
I thank God for you,
You’re my best friend forever.
vircapio gale Oct 2012
Haiku:

hiking new forests
mountain homes of moss and dew
more roots deepen


berries ripe
dot taiga heath--
alien planet


yellow blazing sun
'packin'rocks'
from maine to georgia


pain born hero
in oven boots of blood and pus--
summit breeze


barefoot hiker
calls herself 'FearNot'--
toes enjoy same mud


snake rises up
fangs gleam at water lair
cold spring quenches all


***** at each view--
water comes in and goes out
like a filter


at waterfalls, swans
alighting air-- noble poise
on the way to sea


gunas intertwine
my sweet mountain hunger paths
bitter taste of bark


sour grass
garnish of an earthen tract
saliva honeyed


strands of spider flight --
i too catch myself making
web after web


"nature loves to hide"
hidden hermit roars of all
strife and fire flux


spider bite at dusk
afterswing of scenting food
shoo the meal away


change becomes the same--
people streams talking pixels
aging static web

symbols set in light
speed of optic living nodes;
clicking finger fibers


websites spin and stick
plastic tropical alphabets
ant waves clean the keys


fueling in process,
living fossils already
drilling seas--on earth


give or take six months,
happy birthday!
two seasons gone


Haibun:*

A mountain poet has come to the city, blisters pushing up his toenails. His smile spans 15 blocks of concrete and rebar. Strangers coo to see his sunshine gait but cough at his aroma. Hospitality is found after all, in parks and in the drunken streams from clubs gregarious for midnight novelties.

poet's apology--
not exactly 'myself' to
license gratitude
when time gifts symbols distance--
terror war towers still fall

Emergencies of all sorts force their way into my mind, as I live, sometimes as I write. Ambiguities serve as fulcrum nooks for meanings incompossible to hide, not being ready to share what can't be shared, obscurity offers the ineffable reprieve to be spoken nonetheless.

peering in the word--
sound signs meta symbol
witty sea of *****

property stings
abstract fights to earth
mixing labor

i found a haiku
on my coworker's desk--
where is the frog pond?

dad drinks alone--
photo recalls sunlit leaf
and beer can stare

opining fire false
freezing hearts with argument--
cold spring, winters warm

It is with the love of a child that I write, wincing harder into that self-given 'Indian-Burn' of cathartic fetish and psychological indulge. Where is maturity, and what use is it when faced with endless ground-zeros? Still open to answers, still unwilling to speak plainly or straight about the blanket crookedness and blissful meander that colors life most vividly. I imagine dacrygelosis understood.

thawing pond
creaks in headstand calm--
autumn air released

night's insight pierce
heralds migraine's ease--
gong of moon or sun

on dead wood, against
live trees, hours of *** by
mycelia blooms--
fragrant rot and sweat collide
skin spotted with forest sun

love signs everywhere--
two trunks spiraled
in a yellow wood

vocal awe resung
this is love! this is love!
deep summer fruit

rub of bark                      
vast forest sways across skin
                        naked expanse
Michael Mitchell Apr 2013
Seniors sluggishly step
Trifling tunnels suddenly turn tame
But boredom befalls from bountiful blessings
The lengthy labyrinths lead to a lair of light
However, hazardous hiking harms healthy equipment
Determination among tunnel dwellers dwindles down drastically
Can crawling to the coronation corridor ease the contagious condition?
This is my first "tongue twister" poem (also known as alliteration poem). I wonder how someone can recite this without making a mistake..
~M&M
dex Aug 2015
In the event that you fall in love with him:

He's like an iceberg. There's so much going on in that beautiful mind. You may never see it all, but that's okay. He'll show you what you need to see, nothing more.

He'll argue with you if you tell him he has a beautiful soul. He doesn't believe it. I've spent *eons
trying to show him the gorgeousness he possesses, but he doesn't believe in himself that way. Even so, *never stop trying to convince him that he is a stunning soul.

Actually, he'll argue with you about a lot of things. Don't try to prove him wrong. He won't accept it even if you do; take no offense at this, just understand that he isn't wired that way. Agree to disagree, even if you know you're right, and do what you have to do.

Don't agree with him all the time to keep the peace. He likes someone who is willing to defend what they believe in, even if it opposes his position.

Let him buy you things and do things for you occasionally. He'll really enjoy pampering you. I was just too independent.

If he doesn't come out on top with his horses in the show ring, give him space. He's going to be absolutely boiling. Let him simmer. He'll talk to you when he's cooled down. Don't take his stony silence personally- he's not mad at you, not really. Help where he'll allow you to, and otherwise, just stay away.

He may not compliment you all the time. Don't think this means he doesn't appreciate you, he just doesn't always vocalize it. He'll forget to reassure you sometimes. Sometimes, he'll think, “She looks amazing tonight,” and forget to say it out loud. Again, don't take it personally. He does love you, and I'm sure he thinks you're stunning.

Reassure him that his nose isn't horrible. He won't believe you, but tell him anyway. Don't make fun of it, even as a joke. He takes it personally (even though it isn't a big deal at all). It's always been one of my favorite physical features about him. He hates it, though. So reassure him.

The same goes for his height. He can't stand how tall he is. So don't pick at him about it. Tell him you love him. Tell him you love these things about him. He needs to hear you say it.

Don't constantly bash yourself around him. Even done jokingly, it can make him angry. He knows that you know you aren't a humongous whale, so why on Earth would you even say something like that?

His hands. My God, his hands. I could write about them forever- it would never do them justice. Tell him you love his hands. Make sure he knows that you think they're a masterpiece- he'll laugh at you, tell you you're ridiculous. But there have never been hands that could be so devastatingly strong, and yet so deeply kind and gentle. Make sure that he knows that.

If you have the privilege to maintain eye contact with him, memorize every detail. His irises are the deepest, wildest, truest things you'll ever see, I promise. Nothing will ever feel as good as his eyes do locked onto yours.

Except, maybe his lips on your skin. Soft, hot, intoxicating. You'll always want more. You'll always wish you had just a few more moments alone. And when he pulls away, you'll be left feeling so scalded. I have yet to wash away the burns from his lips on my skin. There isn't enough cold water in the world.

When you walk with him, walk on his right side. He's funny about that for some reason... He just prefers to have you on the right.

He's deeply connected to nature. He loves to be outside, watching snakes, climbing trees, hiking... He just loves to be surrounded by life and natural beauty. Never ridicule him for this. It deepens his roots, fills his soul.

He feels safest at home. He'll travel for you, and he loves visiting new places, but for him, home is definitely where the heart is. He is most comfortable there.

If he trusts you with a piece of himself, don't you dare betray that trust. Guard his secrets with your life. Never threaten him with them, never use them against him. Treat him with deep respect. He'll return the favor.

Mostly, please, just love him. Love him with everything that you have. Love him completely and unconditionally. Forgive him and love him. I don't expect you to ever love him the same way I do. It isn't easy. And in all honesty, it may not be enough. It hasn't been for me. But **** it, love him. God knows I do.

If he leaves you..... Just pray that he never does. The pain is acute and unreal. Nothing will ever hurt quite like him leaving. There are no words to describe the way you will ache if he walks away.

I genuinely wish you the best. I hope you can give him all the things I never could. I hope you're exactly what he wants and needs. I hope you're all the things he loved about me, and all the things he wished I was. I pray for his happiness, and if you are that, then my prayer is answered, and I owe you thanks. Please just make him happy and love him.

Love him.
Love him.

*Love him.
Tyler Loeslein Nov 2012
Today I decided
that I’m not wearing underwear.
I am sick and tired
of the hassles
of picking out wedgies
and ***** lines
that can be seen through my yoga pants.
By going commando,
I have become the commander
of my personal revolution
against the soft cotton oppression
of having to wear ******.
Today I am free,
free to feel the breeze
and giggle every time I remember
that I’m bare down there.
I think I’ll wear a dress,
despite the risk
of a frisky breeze passing by.
In fact I’ll savor the thrill,
and maybe even twirl,
not too fast to give a show,
but just fast enough,
to feel just a little naughty.
I’ll keep them off all day,
and even tonight,
when we go out
to a small get together
at one of your friends’ house.
I think it might be fun
to wait a while to tell you,
and when I do,
I’ll lean in really close,
because its going to be our secret.
I’ll whisper soft and low,
trying to be ****,
right next to your ear,
“ I’m not wearing any underwear.”
When I pull away,
I’ll just smile,
and hope you don’t notice
how bad I’m blushing.
For the rest of the night,
you’ll keep glancing
first at my hemline,
then up to my eyes.
The excitement in your eyes,
gets me excited too,
and I know we’re both thinking
about just how easy
reaching up that dress could be.
Hopefully, the anticipation will build up,
until you can’t wait anymore,
can’t even wait until we get home,
so you’ll pull me into some room,
away from the noise of the party,
and as soon as the door closes,
you’ll turn and kiss me hard,
hiking up my dress,
so that you can take advantage,
of me not wearing any underwear.
I'm totally open to any feedback!
clouds grace the mountain
look like rising mist
trying to find space to fit
between the trees and bare ski slopes
waiting for snow

Out of all the seasons it knows
the north seems only to remember
winter

When we go hiking
my aunt reminds me to remember
the weather changes rapidly
while the mountain remains still

Having a sturdy mindset
cannot keep away feeling

From the balcony
rain falls five stories down
today I decide
not to fall with it
My Aunt Kelly and I have gone to Vermont almost every summer since I was in the fourth grade. This year, she really spoiled us and got us a hotel room at Stowe Mountain Resort; the room featured a balcony looking out over Mt. Mansfield. I cannot explain how awesome it felt to have a room with a balcony – I don’t think I ever want to live anywhere that doesn’t. I absolutely adore Vermont, so I was really surprised when life continued to feel so heavy even while I was there. This poem absolutely holds it’s own; I wrote it sitting on the balcony watching the rain over the mountain while there was some rain going on in my own mind.
Look at my life,
In perfect curation.
Crawl through my photos,
For an endless duration;
My travels, my boyfriend,
My little black dress,
With each "like" you give me,
You'll like yourself less.
I'm pretty, I'm smart,
And outdoorsy to boot.
I proved I like hiking,
With a mountain top shoot.
I made it look easy,
My cheeks weren't flushed,
My re-application at the
Top wasn't rushed.
It's not about hiking,
But getting that shot,
To prove to the world,
That I'm trendy and hot.
My phone and it's filter,
Are all that I need,
Plus endless selfies,
And for you to believe.
One of one hundred,
Good angle and light.
Touched up and ready,
To upload tonight.
Of course it was worth it,
That trip to the top.
If I don't stay active,
My numbers will drop.
Please like me, share me,
keep me in rotation.
Please look at my life,
in perfect curation.
Anant Jun 2013
I looked to the stars to see what I could find,
and I sighed with exasperation at the wonders in sight.
For lo, behold, there were more than millions,
and poor old me, choosing one just wasn’t an option.

If you gaze at them all at once, you notice there is a sky,
but if you pick solely one, you find yourself willing to fly.
One of these twinkling wonders might be you someday,
for the world knows whom it should repay.

Focus on one tree, you lose sight of the forest. 
But look at the forest, you lose sight of your tree.
Find your star, hunt it down, and you just might,
you just might, you just might,
absorb that glittering gold glimmer of light.

Then its all uphill from there,
as you shoot up,
and reach forward
and outward,
and suddenly,
you fall back down.

But this time, you have your star,
so climbing all the way up, it can’t be that far.
After hauling and hiking, you reach the top.
and as you gaze at the bottom, you start to wonder.

Wonder about what? I cannot say.
But you’re at the top, you have to stay.
Since it’s you who made it all the way.
L’appel du vide, you start to sway.

Then it hits you. It hits you hard.
Back you go! as you go down.
Down again, down on your knees!
But as you look in its eyes, your glittery golden glimmer lights it up,
and you can’t help but notice what wasn’t there before.
It cannot be, but surely, it is.
A trace of affection, gone as quickly as it appears.

As you get up, you swear it smiles,
and when it disappears with a gust of wind,
you bet on your life you heard it whisper,
I’ll see you at the top, you’ll get here quicker.

And you scramble up again, surefooted and strong,
as music surrounds you, life’s very own song.
Your ascent slows to a stop, and you look around.
Many are there, whom you never found.

And in the centre, who else could it be?
Your very good friend, whom you mistook for an enemy.
It glides towards you, and you don’t wince,
Because now you know, that which you’ve known long since.
Life pushes you down, not out of hate,
but so you learn, to open up the gate.

Now what did you learn? How can you explain?
What you’ve spent years on, things almost impossible to gain.
But you don’t give away the answer, it’s not yours to impart.
You must help out, pick up all who’ve lost heart.
My first poem. Feedback please?

— The End —