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Wade Redfearn Jul 2018
It isn't like that.
It isn't a left turn too early,
a lark awake at night,
thick brown light in an open field;
unpredictable: a bad or counter-miracle.
It is only wanton.

You know how it is
Suddenly, something trapped between your toes:
the world has a strangled voice, it is
unroofed. You want the comfort of normal walls,
normal light, normal noise; in your hand
is a hot brand you'd halfway use
to smith it back together
and halfway swallow.
I had different plans for this vacation
than destruction.

I had plans. You had plans. The earth
planned its axial tilt; the weather planned
its burning; we put aside too little water.
A few plants were familiar -
the ruined piñon pine I remembered from the placard.
One lonesuch tree that made a little niche
at a defiant angle into the air
and outlived all except its orphaning.
How we thought we could fare better, I cannot say.

Ten feet up by one hundred feet over:
one liter water per mile climbed:
fatigue. Fatigue.
The quiet supremacy of all these rules for living like
transit and occultation
refraction and dimness
exertion
hunger
peristalsis pulling down
huge loads of sunlight
into the ***** gully
like bread and meat.

You will not see the bottom
no matter how hard you look.

If blood I am, then what kind of blood?
Unsettled and unsettling. The circulatory system
has an apt name: sometimes I can feel yesterday's blood
in the same neurons, saying the same thing.
I have no choice but to repeat it.
Time sheds its significance.
I have no continuity:
I have rhythms.

The new day, on fire and sitting in the trickle
you held a golden fish in your palm
as if you had made it by will
and cupped, it circled in the valley of your fingers
and I ate from the vision of care.

Erosion: isn't that what made these furrows?
I beg it to unmake me
flat like a seabed and many fathoms green
where the sun will never reach me.

In the penumbra of your anger
I do not fear dying,
only dying unclean.
Heights are all the same.
They would all break me and none would enough.
The grasshoppers and gecko hatchlings
all die in their way, rubbed in the hot dry dust.
Parched, I gnash my stone teeth
and tongue of chaparral -
I am making a song to say
die with me
but smile at me.

Then I see it through flashes of temper,
frame by frame, like a fingertip behind a pinwheel:
a dream of something distant that is also true.
Dreams of freedom alongside dreams of dying.
CK Baker Jan 2017
cedar planks line the dim lit hall
morning snow begins to fall
sepia print in a chip wood frame
embers spark from the franklin flame

rustling sounds from bunks below
records play in a tight alcove
bacon grills on the iron sheet
gloves are warmed by baseboard heat

bean bags tossed on colored ****
papka placed as a punching bag
red brick wall with mounted poles
windows filled with glacier bowls

whiskey jack on the southern rail
a frozen patch of wine and ale
pine cones fall in gathering white
brothers bathed in firelight

sleighs are on the table top
canyon road is at a stop
northern winds that bite the face
lines are up the gondola base

cornice clipped on gully goat
the rubber man appears to float
alpine depths are on the rise
peaking sun through parting skies

triple ropes and nordic luge
honored guests from baton rouge
gelande jumps on rainbow drive
nostalgia’s light and warm reply
Lizzy Apr 2015
I say I live as a burden,
My mouth sealed shut.
So that I may not utter the words,
Of my weighted thoughts.

These truths weigh a ton,
And I've far too many for just one head.
For even mine.
My head bobs to my shoulder,
Weakened necks can't hold this.

Now I'm shaking,
Trembling.
Because I gave you the rocks,
The stones that broke my neck.
And you are fading,
Drifting all at once.

Give me your boulders,
And we will be even.
Give me your mountains,
So I can rest easy.

My burdenous brain
Broken neck
Heavy thoughts

I never meant to break your neck too
MJL Feb 15
Do what they do
Fight the ***** fight
Do what they do, to you
Take from them
Lie to them
Wage war without words
Their righteous greed controls the earth
They have morals for each other
Hold you down in the name of God
Fear them
Patriate them
Oppress them
Malcolmize the pain
Invert the rain
Watch it flow back up
Up into the clouds
Breaking all that is around
To let the sun shine through
Let the sun shine through
Move all that stand in your way
Move all that cast a shadow on freedom
Let the sun shine through
Follow Caucasus Mountain Pass
Do what they do
Feel your right to the sun
Feel the warmth of your freedom
Wash away the black party soot
Feel the warmth of your King
As you fall from grace
Leaving love behind to be burned
With the memory of the righteous
You rise up
Free


© 2019 MJL
The fight for freedom is often through compromised morals.
Is it just a hue
Or
Is the mountain actually blue

The sea and the lake too
Is imbued by the sky’s blue

I love the colour too
Yes it has to be teal and aqua blue

Yellow is so bright and right
Inspired by the sunlight

Red speaks of passion and rage
Sure, I am no sage

Colours bright, dark or light
In every hue, have a place of their own
Got to love them all
A picture of a beautiful mountain that I saw, with hues so blue, inspired this :)
Osiria Melody Feb 14
To all those troubled people,
who Deprived themselves of food 'cause they
were a size 20 instead of a 2,
who possessed Drawn comfort lines or
Engraved scalding designs all over their bodies,
who attempted to Snip their lives away from
the grand photo of life,
who fled from a place we call Home,
who Drank alcohol like water,
who Smoked nicotine like a campfire's burn,
who Did the worst of the worst imaginable,
I am here to let you know that there will
always be Hope.

To all those troubled people,
who Deprived themselves of happiness at
the Expense of someone else,
who possessed Gaits of Emaciated strength,
collapsing,
who attempted to Hurt their loved ones for
the Sake of protecting oneself,
who fled from a place that no one Knows,
this world needs your Uniqueness
Beauty, Dignity, Strength
Your Tears can water gardens of Happiness.
Pain can climb Mountains of pleasure.
Tell sadness to Hang itself by a noose,
Tell sadness to Shoot itself in the head,
Tell sadness to Indulge in poison,
Tell sadness to Jump off a building,
Tell sadness to Bleed itself.

For you cannot know what tomorrow will
bring,
do not let Sadness overcome you.
You're your own hero, a steadfast one
Make Sadness **** itself and spare Yourself.
I outstretch my creative hands to you
to all those Troubled people
never let go of what keeps you Going.



Melody
2/14/19
No one can take away your individuality since you're your best judge.
bulletcookie Aug 2018
Where footling trees do grow
nature, apologies need not know
vistas look back at you with eyes of snow
stones, high meadows, and silver timber knots

purple lupines and fire-**** that blush pink
held firm in gravel hands meet lichened erratics
where mountain's complexion in eon's blink
altered antonym of greens and browns chromatic

Where footling trees do grow
clouds shoot over passes round
to sprinkle, clap showers or to plow flows
marmots don down and burrow to ground

seeds and feathers take to their wing
branches' memories bend to storm's prowl
with constancy of change born on this wind
brutes in caverns and caves utter growls

Where footling trees do grow
a precipice of nascent springs leap
into; pine, spruce, ericaceous woodland below,
to gush as creeks, washout to river's slow keep

dappled light and streaming ray divides
fall forest floor with lulling murmur flutters
there bridge a span in wood knock strides
where clinging moss rolls bread and butter

-cec
KiraLili Oct 2016
While the early
Morning mist rises
So do we
The trek begins
Up wooded trails
Flannel red shirts steam
As we break through the clouds
Drinking sweat and glacial water
Bandaged knees creak
Too winded to speak
Till finally warm hands
Touch the cold granite cornice
Of Fischers Peak
East Kootenays Early 90s

#hiking #mountainclimbing #fall #nature
em Jul 2015
I want to say that I'm getting better,
that  these scars are starting to feel
like the marks of a warrior who has won battles,
but even if the bleeding has stopped, the war is not over.

There are so many days when the sun will come out,
and I can feel its warmth wash over me, and it is
when I am covered by its happy grace,
that the shadow of sadness is cast across the
sidewalks.. those sidewalks where every crack
was a canyon to wide to cross.
My blood stained on every square.

And as I stand on top of that mountain and look down
upon the valley that I had conquered,
i realize,
that my footprints spell your name...

Then there I go again,

crashing
burning

f
a
l
l
i
n
g

falling, right back into
the devils claw.
love.......ehh not for me :P
Tommy Randell Jun 2017
Is there a mountain in your day for you today,
Something you have to do, or fail?

Someone difficult to meet perhaps and get along with,
Someone you see as a task, that person who just doesn't fit?

Someone no longer there, who cannot be seen or touched,
Whose absence from your day makes things a little too much?

Is life a hill for you today, a slogging upward path,
Where you'll count your steps one by one, and then take two more back?

Is it pain that saps your willingness, is it fear, embarrassment, or worry,
Makes the day ahead a little too steep to set out on in a hurry?

Or Debt, that wall of glass too sheer, too slippery for a foothold,
Hangs there like a frosted fog that chills you with a numbing cold?

Maybe today is just one more day on your solitary lonely trek
That bereavement, divorce, or just not being loved is the test?

Each day is a maze of questions, a confusion of zigzags and choices,
We all look up some mornings wishing we had easier options.

The trick is to not see the mountain, the trick is to know in your heart
What the world needs is for you to be in it, and each day is a brand new start.

Your path is the way up the mountain for you to find and to share,
The hills we climb are inside us, they don't take us to just any Where -

Success or failure doesn't matter, it's not triumph or victory or glory;
Each day that place you come to, that you are there will be your Story.


Tommy Randell 08th June 2017
Joanna Jul 31
The river runs in a direct course, moving forward with gentle force. Its sparkling waters feed all that come near.

This river has a mysterious pathway that like a puzzle that is about to unfold. Moving with a determination that holds no fear, this river is full of pure, clear waters.

The eagle soars with a strength that is bold, through storm clouds and more.  While journeying daily to a hidden fountain, this bird of flight seeks refuge in the cleft of the mountain.

And to build its habitat where nothing can obstruct its plan to live freely in a place that is no longer a barren land.
To read more of my writings go to:http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
Surveying
northern autumn afternoon
Pitcherelli, ex-marine, body-builder,
Lussier, long-haired father of three dark-skinned children
and myself, sharp-edged loner, ex-lover of a fair share of
      women
are belly-laughing in the dying sun. Clouds.
The crew, in timber.

Laughing
over recent visits to marvelous cities where
we could not keep ourselves from touching the terminal buds
of numerous exotic trees
and attracting ridicule of stylish girls and tame boyfriends.
Pitcherelli before the Albany bus station
shaking hands with a red pine planted thirty years ago.
Lussier, one hand in a child's hand and the other
feeling scabrous bark of urban woody plants.
Myself among partially shaved heads and leathery aromatic
      jackets
getting close to the hairy bud of an unidentified poplar or
      sycamore.

People
laughed, but we laughed best
back on our mountain
under the blackening weather.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
m h John Feb 3
I’ve climbed mountain tops
And swam across ocean shores,
Only to find myself
Lost
Down underneath
These deep ocean floors
S Bharat Apr 8
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
Swells Jul 2018
feverish in desert-dry tides

the mountain hungers in crescendo
for the sky that crucifies her;
her staccato tops of green
and earthly graves
are titanic gods in all-
seeing tremolo.
these congeries of grandeur
do her not rise but sink the
valley of mawkish men
trembling poignant and bare
sprouting liturgies from their
beaks, bespeaking the apex
pregnant in exploits

where the sun resurrects daily.
Alyssa Underwood Aug 2018
We're forced, each man, to walk a trialed path—
resisted trek, uphill through blinding daze
that shrouds with crucible's perplexing haze
till fog-white skies yield quick to black clouds' wrath.
Affliction brims a thorny pack to bear
whilst dewy darkness drenches in the night,
but where is calming lamp to lend us sight?
And who will come to give us saving care?
Here through veil is heard a whisper certain,
then o'er the mountain creeps the dawning day
and with clear eyes we see the brume give way
as God retracts His theatre's curtain,
unsheathing velvet waves whose morning sheen
beyond grey mist splays vast and wondrous green.
~~~

"I will exalt You, LORD,
    for You lifted me out of the depths
    and did not let my enemies gloat over me.
LORD my God, I called to You for help,
    and You healed me.
You, LORD, brought me up from the realm of the dead;
    You spared me from going down to the pit.
Sing the praises of the LORD, you His faithful people;
    praise His holy name.
For His anger lasts only a moment,
    but His favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
    but rejoicing comes in the morning.
When I felt secure, I said,
    'I will never be shaken.'
LORD, when You favored me,
    You made my royal mountain stand firm;
but when You hid Your face,
    I was dismayed.
To You, LORD, I called;
    to the Lord I cried for mercy:
'What is gained if I am silenced,
    if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise You?
    Will it proclaim Your faithfulness?
Hear, LORD, and be merciful to me;
    LORD, be my help.'
You turned my wailing into dancing;
    You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
that my heart may sing Your praises and not be silent.
    LORD my God, I will praise You forever."

~ Psalm 30

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1464179/the-beauty-behind-the-fog/
G Rog Rogers Aug 2017
I will be your mighty man
if you will be
my fragile flower

For the strength of you
within my hand
is far greater
than any mountain

Your softest word
whispered in my ear
will raise the best
of aspirations

While your kiss
upon my cheek
uplifts Our fields
of forever

So We will lay
beside Our souls
as Our spirits
run free together

We will seek and search
to truly find
Our place together
as lovers

I then will lift my eyes
to mirror yours
and surely glimpse
the grace of Heaven

-R.

(14)
-D

-4MAR
©2017
Egeria Litha Feb 11
Camping in the Blue Ridge Mountains
was the greatest day of my life
It was my birthday
I brought a suitcase
and my favorite dame
and hiked 2 miles UP^^^^^^^^
laughing all the way

UP ^^^^^in the Ozarks
Medics were shooting steroids in my ****
BUT, never been more in love
with a man who injects grief in my veins

Dwelling in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains
sensed his vibe
Yes, Jesus I feel you here

held en el Rio Grande con mis mejor amigos
drooling in the hot springs
Taos has called our names
******* the rocky sand that is below me
I find a coin from New Zealand,
in turn, losing my evil eye earring
an offering to spirit's stream
a pair of desert lizards
we desire to get frisky and be alone
we shine silver glitter under a moonlit glow

witches cackle and curanderos
hide behind coyote cries and cacti
looking to each other with faces expressing,
"What should do we do?"
I guess allow them to do their thing
humans need ceremonies too
Eliseatlife May 11
You there,

The one who is always ready for her friends with the best advice
The one that everyone wants to see happy
The one who believes in multiple opportunities
The one who always wants to see the positive in people

But broke deep inside
Sometimes you can take a step back

Sometimes they have expectations so high
Like a mountain with a top that can never be reached

But you will be alright
Take that step back
Just for a moment

you will not abandon someone
you're just there for yourself

Then come back as the best version of yourself
Be happy and smile
You deserve being you
Take care of yourself!
Morgan Mercury Aug 2013
You told me you wanted to die
on the mountainside on the 28th of July.
The same day your mother died.
Chased by your sins shouting melodies that are carved on skin.
The kingdom has fallen and you were loved in the best ways possible by the people you wanted, but now the river overflows all the dreams you once held close to you dearly.
And now here you stand reading the letter that she wrote.

"Keep alive and live past my grave. Grow flowers in the darkest places and bring light into your lungs and breathe the air that smells so sweet. Believe there is a place beyond the hollow ground and believe we'll meet up there one day again, but please do not make that day anytime soon. Climb the trees that the past has planted here and swim to the other edge, always be on the other side. Don't worry if you trip over your own feet. Don't fiddle with the cuts you marked but kiss them each day until they're there no more. Follow the path that leads to the river and watch how it flows gracefully over sharp rocks to make them smooth enough to hold. Early in the morning awake with joy because the sun shines for you and the birds sing for only you to hear. Do this for me, my lion heart."

And you kept that letter in your pocket every day and held the crisp paper in your hands pretending it was hers.
kyle dionysus Jun 2017
The reason I ran up a mountain awhile ago... I guess it was because I was frustrated and wanted to escape from my reality that day. I couldn't get you out of my head. It's funny how someone so small can weaken you so much. But after running up the mountain that day, I felt stronger, I felt at peace, I thought I became weak, but it seems that I was wrong. Since that day, running up mountains allowed me to think of you less, because it made me realize that you weren't the only beautiful view.
Anecandu Sep 2016
Sunrise on your face like a warm caressing hand
Your surrounded by friends, a tired but merry band.
No hooks or ropes needed just your backpack and your aching feet
Your taking longer drinks now to stave off the heat.

Its so contrasting, your hot when its frigid cold
This moment you'll remember, this memory is Gold
Its about achieving what you thought impossible at first
Something good for the soul, not just the hunger, but a thirst.

You fill your bottle from natures *****
eating your fill from among earths blossoms
Berries, nuts, roasting on ember lit nights.
the eyes consume the bounty of sights.

But the sunrise on the crimson dawn
while stretching your tired frame at being reborn,
So near so high you can touch the vanilla sky
You promise yourself to be back, but alas you lie......
Karijinbba Apr 20
Mountains conquest
become insurmountable obstacles
as impatience
endeavour ill.
~~~~
By: Karijinbba
All rights reserved.
understanding answers arrives
when experience discloses
friends heros from foes
innocent victims, from unsets
Justin Feb 7
Let me touch you,
Said the earth to sky,
And the cloud settled in,
And on the mountain she lie.
They spoke of their lives,
Of lost loves and of fears,
And when the sun called her back,
All that remained were her tears.
Maybe you've seen them,
In the winter or fall,
When the mountain is barren,
And the sky comes to call,
Be it wishful thinking,
Or a trick of the light,
But I swear that I see it,
When the sun hits just right,
A smile of contentment,
On that old mountains face,
As he lays down to slumber,
In his lovers embrace.
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2017
‘Earth’
maybe a mole
in the mountain of space.
But the story is bigger
than any epic tale.

It's the one scoops
the bottom line
of the bottomless space!

Small simple finishing
tells the complete tale
'as above, so below'.
One that takes into
account all the matter
and the entire space.

The story goes on
The fine earth takes its place.
Now the mountain
sits on the mole space!
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