Best Mountaineer Poems
LIFE'S UNDISCOVERED PASSION
I reached up far to touch a star.
It only took a second.
I thought I heard a salient call
alas it did not beckon.
While looking for an artful craft
and finding none; the time blew past
I looked toward the heaven's stars
for talents that could break these bars
Like thickened paint on canvass fashion
Mixed with rich excitant passion
From Starry Night to sheer delight
but never wrong and never right.
Should I envy those with deep affection
with skills that move in-synced direction
for passions born into their soul
to define their purpose-- take control.
Athletic prowess, artistic flavor,
a builders trade, a science major,
musicians joy and mountaineer
for all of those we stop and cheer
and think if we could only be
but they are they and we are we.
Somewhere, somewhere deep inside
are struggles there we cannot hide
doubts and fears that suck the joy
from life's sweet gifts; a noxious ploy
of destiny failing in an attempt
to re-discover a lost lament.
CAK 12-2-2012
SYNOPSIS
Sometimes, I find myself lamenting
that I do not possess an
exceptional skill or talent. It seems
many people find great joy from theirs.
It seems to gnaw at my being and
I grow sorrowful that somehow
I am missing something.
Gravity enters my thoughts, what ever goes up has to come down. As i start my descent from
the summit of this giant of the Grampians. My journey down is so different to the ascent.
Clouds build for the evening mass. The breeze has magically transformed into a cutting
wind, as the tallest of ferns whistle a goodbye.
The melting snows still show their march, small waterfalls run into fast flowing burns.
Lambs now hug close to their mothers, its as if they know nightfall is upon them. The
quietness of the glens are a memory now as modern mans noise appears from the distance.
The local mountaineer team are on the ascent on a training exercise. These unpaid
volunteers put their own safety in danger to save others who are in danger. The orangy
glow of street lights confirm my descent is complete. I head back home, tired, weary from
my day on the highest mountain in my homeland. But so alive in the joys and sights that it
allowed me to share on this day.
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland-3.php
Van Gogh refused my cigarette, ‘No thanks, I’ve got one ear’
*
The zoo wanted some antelope but they were just two deer
*
I offered the cabbie some chewing gum, he said do you think that’s fare
*
Why did Adam eat the apple when Eve had a lovely pear
*
The tyrant banned men in white shirts: people are going to dye
*
He claimed to have some caustic soda, was that some kind of Lye
*
The ageing mechanic removed the wheel, he was ready to re-tyre
*
Robin Hood was livid, the donuts were in the friar
*
A starving woman’s fave celebs are bound to be ‘has beans’
*
Men just seem to like her, is it something in her jeans
*
My search for water in the haunted woods ended in a creak
*
Folk are stealing mountains, should we take a peak
*
I’m spraying herbs with weed-o-cide: I’m only killing thyme
*
The mountaineer was chilly, he preferred a sunny clime
I know that is what you are trying to do until you don’t lose.
Upset the balance of a rightful world to
Destroy a focus that remains visionary to
Defeat the purpose of eternal peace.
Against the odds, you will precede while waiting for the truth to weaken.
A mountaineer never gives up the climb.
He or she seeks knowledge on how to peak the next time.
Even when it may seem a deadly try, his or her mind is with the goal defined.
Rightful is your success.
You are the splendor to your voice.
You are searching for the best way to proceed.
A wrongful world is always depleted.
An alpinist knows his or her rise.
He or she climbs to summit the incline.
Although him or her may scramble along the way, the journey has been
partaken.
A mindset designates a mental attitude or inclination formed.
One that has regiment that is detrimental to ambition.
Ubiquitous deseeding is paramount.
A mountain is to climb once formed.
You are therefore superior to all others.
____________________________________________________________|
Written July 03, 2016!
Those far off days from way back when
My age was five, or maybe ten.
No matter what, i was carefree.
When i grow old what would i be,
A lion tamer of renown
Or maybe just a funny clown.
As mountaineer, the very best.
To climb and conquer Everest.
Sometimes when mum did not agree,
I schemed to run away to sea,
And earn my keep by scrubbing decks
Or diving deep to search shipwrecks.
These fantasies would come and go,
Much faster than the melting snow.
As wizard now i waved my wand.
A frog appeared beside a pond.
Then deep inside a dragons den
I pulled his tail, he roared and then,
Breathing fire he closed his eyes.
That's when i caught him by surprise,
In outstretched hands i held the frog.
That turned him into next doors dog.
But dreams don't last like once before.
Reality means much much more.
It's freedom from those apron strings.
Cold water and those razor stings.
But growing up, sometimes it seems,
It's better living childhood dreams.
8/ 19/ 2015.
I have never climbed a mountain
or have I wanted to climb one,
to be perfectly honest.
I have watched others climb
I watched ten men climb a mountain
named K2,
strange name it seemed to me -K2.
One of these climbers died,
It was on TV –Discovery Channel.
I sit in my recliner with my remote control,
eating chips and drinking a Diet Coke
and watching this man die.
They had a phone! They called his wife
in Oregon, she begged him to get up
get moving and come back to her.
She cried, he cried, then he told her
he loved her but he could not go on.
So he lay there, out of air and died,
his dream was to climb this mountain.
His body is still there frozen, frozen as I
as I watched him die -on TV.
I turned off my TV -It is still off,
I go for walks in the park and watch birds.
I think about this mountaineer,
him laying a few feet from his dream
on the summit of K2,
how his passion complete consumed him.
how he died -how he lived and
I think this mountaineer
was a very, very lucky man.
Today is a nice warm day
not too much wind,
I hear a Lark -on wing.
Darling you're a dim bulb
That's far too afraid to shine
Full of whimsical charm
That's difficult to define
An excellent mountaineer
That's too scared to climb the vine
The Beanstalk reaches the clouds
Imagine what we will find
Kick off your goody two shoes
And wrap yourself in leather
I don't want no sugar and spice
And show me your newest tattoo
In the regions of the nether
Love is stronger when we're on thin ice
Upon this frozen lake
Silver blades mark a design
Within the transparent image
Smiling faces of you and I
Though we've had our falls
And crossed many fine lines
We always pick ourselves up
Like a love so divine
We'll bolt through walls tightly glued
Reveal secrets long tethered
Don't calculate just throw the dice
And I will buy us both a brew
Make us feel light as a feather
Love is stronger when we're on thin ice
We'll dance on this reflective floor
Feel the shiver down our spines
And hear it crack beneath our feet
As we run for our lives
Though we're still in elegant form
With our hands intertwined
And though our chances are slim
I'll feel at ease knowing you're mine!
This night I'll fall deep in you
Against the shaky weather
Cause you and I, a perfect splice
I'll break this heart and make it new
Under this storm we're together
Love is stronger when we're on thin ice
NOTE: When I first started writing I was more into lyrics into poetry (though this might be more of a mix). I found an old piece that I've forgotten about.
Deepavali night it was, the festival of light,
East to west,north to south, the whole of India was lit up and looked so bright.
Empty, dark sky on a new moon night, perhaps the moon had gone to take a nap,
From heaven as a Diwali gift,the moon came down to earth to light up my lap.
All saints Day is celebrated every year along with his birthday,
Yes,he's my offspring,the apple of my eye,my heart throbs for him when I pray,
Ardent, daredevil, optimistic, adventurous, industrious like an ant,
Nothing can stop, none can beat him, he's born to be triumphant.
Powerful and strong, multi - talented, intellectual, amazingly knowledgeable,
Amiable, jovial, innovative in ideas, tender in heart he is extremely admirable.
Unmovable as mountains to accomplish his mission, nothing for him is impossible.
Loyal to his employer, passionate about job, obstacles could never stop or hit,
Boldly he overcomes all hurdles that come his way, after all he's the Best Athlete.
A mountaineer, marathon runner, the super star of his mom.
Super human, super fighter, to you I bless,
Until this Earth remains,thousands of years you live, not even a year less.
Beauty of nature is in its dictum.
The world is being stratified,
here life and plants are as the guide,
charming consensus of the stratum.
Hushing tones of the swinging pines,
hikers often do approach,
how the flowers claim for touch -
miscellaneous layers, medley signs.
Transparent water of streams and ponds,
human nature making bonds,
entwined, enchanted – gazing.
From the distance looks the deer
on exhausted mountaineer –
sheep grassland biome are grazing.
Poem To My Dad
In Memory 04/17/2018
By: RobertBenThoughts.blogspot.com
It has been almost a year
Since you left us here,
For the heavenly relm
Your reward is clear.
I miss you.
Mom is doing better than before
She thinks of you daily,
She now calls me Bob
I just laugh and say it’s Ben.
Did I tell you I miss you?
The kids are doing fine
They miss you too,
Careers challenging
But they are successful,
Did I tell you I miss you?
The wife God gave me,
She is the Eveready bunny
She continues to be amazing
She misses you also.
Did I tell you I miss you?
She does for everybody
Before doing for herself,
She is like you,
Always-there good or bad times,
Did I tell you I miss you?
Got tear eyed today
Just thinking about you,
Don’t do it often
I just think of the good times.
Did I tell you I miss you?
I’m doing fine now,
I wish you were still here,
I’d take you to the mountains again,
And take you to church.
Did I tell you I miss you?
Don’t forget golf I let you win.
Myrtle Beach every summer,
Deep-sea fishing
Two walks to the pier everyday,
Did I tell you I miss you?
I remember camping
Just you and me,
Then there was Boy Scouts
When it used to be just boys,
Did I tell you I miss you?
There was Mountaineer football,
Mountaineer Classic basketball tourney,
Harlem Globetrotters,
Pittsburgh Pirates baseball,
Did I tell you I miss you?
But what I remember most is
You lived as you taught,
Slow to anger
And a great listener
Did I tell you I miss you?
Church first,
Mom second,
Kids next,
Then work.
Did I tell you I miss you?
You always believed in me,
Even when I gave you no reason,
And you always said you were proud of me
At the most important times,
Did I tell you I miss you?
The apple fell far from the tree
But I’m giving my best effort
To roll it up the hill,
I know you’re proud of me and my family,
Did I tell you I miss you?
Dad, I love you!
West Virginian Mountaineer, hill country free,
Born down in a holler to folks of dirt po means.
Heard wind blow wave ‘er wave o’er regal mountain peaks.
Fed on cornpone, biscuits, country gravy, and beans.
White mist over each peak a crown of majesty.
In rich valley below, unique person dwelt.
Admired sprawling mountaineer family tree.
Anyone not ‘bon up ’thar in the hills was suspect.
Ran like a deer, strong as a bear, eyes like a hawk.
Had speck of earth’s riches: smidgen from modern store.
Used outhouse year 'round, often times in the dark!
Worldly things rated low; Evermore got high score.
Shot rifle straight as an arrow flying through the air,
As ray of sunshine finds its way through leafy trees.
Had the stealth of bobcat leaving his secret lair,
Could seek up on someone; unaware presence there.
Honored no pass signs around moonshiner’s grove.
Words sounded odd to some; "Whar, thar, airish out ‘har.
Folks growed "tabaccer, lit oil lamp and wood stove.
Misjudged as brainless; mind could ace lawyer’s bar.
Volunteered one day while wearing worn out jeans.
Proud to be a soldier, as ancestry of yore.
Eager to serve country; had just turned nineteen.
Sent off to hostile land; part of medical corps.
Ten soldiers died when compound was hit one night.
Each one was honored; a national hero.
Military honors; flags, taps, and over flights.
One from West Virginia; Marine, Megan Marlow.
Immigrant of past he took to the soil like a neophyte soldier
protecting each tomato and basil plant with his bare hands
he showed no inhibition when it came to baring his shoulders
and digging fenced up holes in the ground, by early morning
as he whistled a tune he worked contentedly in his little yard
away from the bombast sound of his bocci rink counterparts ,
he was animated by the first sun of morning and tanned dark
beneath the smolder of a rolled up cigarette and salty breath
The lecherous stares of Canadian Lolittas were never returned
for he was a loyal husband. Abruzzo born he contained love
and gave it to his family with the fierceness of a mountaineer
his Alpine hat hung on the hook, as a reminder of where he
had found his beatific moments long ago ;
Providence had it that he find a good job at a local hospital
washing sheets and beddings. He never floundered far from
home for his children were always on the wait for his smile
his dolorous history, it was never shared as much as his joy.
He was a wonderful father who taught me how to add,
with sense of my sensibility, … best friend I ever had.
6/14/2019
Sponsor: John Hamilton
eight word free verse challenge
Know of a fellow named John John
There's a rumour his mind is all gone gone
Started losing it I fear
Trying to be a mountaineer
Can be heard yodelling away in his thong thong!
© Jack Ellison 2015
He is not a robber
But he stole my heart,
He is not a painter
But made a piece of art.
He is not a clown
But he makes me laugh,
He is not a laborer
But he knows enough.
He is not a dancer
But my beat, he did rhyme,
He is not a mountaineer
But my mind he can climb.
He is not a messenger
But he, his thoughts send,
He is not a writer
But he creates a legend.
There is no other than him,
And that is it! Just him.
03032017
11:30 P.M.
ABB
“In all my mountain wanderings I had not seen a more beautiful flower than this Primula, the fine raindrops clung to its soft petals like galaxies of seed-pearls and frosted its leaves with silver."
- Quote by British mountaineer Frank S Smythe, on his discovery of ‘Valley of flowers’.
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Cradled between mountains
Valley sleeps in beauty
Swaying to chosen winds
Smiling to the blessed eyes
Beaming divine silence
Only clouds caress them
Riot of changing hues
Blooming just, right on cue