Best Pinnacle Poems
From Pinnacle to Cynical
When we were young
We had our dreams
But, in our future we would find
That many times along the way
There were mountains, we must climb
But with the strength
That comes with youth
We foiled every peril
And hiked the broadways to the top
Until the path got narrow
Yes, in our way, we reached the top
And then became quite cynical
For our decline, we could not stop
In descending from that pinnacle
It matters not, how far we reached
Upon life's twisted routes and bends
It's knowing that we've seen the summit
And that our journey, must slow, then end
By JTCurtis
I stood, as if buoyed up, atop a crag,
unchanged (yet somehow changed), not knowing why
my mountain-climbing friends could so much lag,
for I was where the pinnacle met sky,
but they were gone completely from my view,
and in the recess, then it dawned on me
my situation strangely was askew!
My vision was an eagle's. I could see
the roads along the shore where we had docked
before we'd started up each wrinkled slope.
Then further on, my mates, all sobbing, gawked
at someone motionless who lay with rope
in lifeless clutch. I felt no wrath, but peace
engulf me; I embraced my soul's release.
9/26/2014
An N/A poem for Screwed X Poetry Contest of Rob Carmack
Inviting and magnetic the towering awesome sight
A perspective of domineering rock and icy peaks
It challenges, dares and beckons with unfolding beauty
Stretching upwards into shades of blue and puffy clouds.
Along the winding sloping trail I make my way, the easy
Lower tract encased in green, till rough terrain appears
Then stimulation is released when steep ascent arrives.
I climb and breathe the pure fresh air, intense intoxication
It is so peaceful all around, a place for meditation.
The time goes by. I look for holds and make full use of spikes
Intent on concentration. The wind comes by and contributes
To the hazards of melting ice and hidden crevasses
The weary limbs in need of rest; a keen lookout for falling rocks
An avalanche of crumbling doubts that slows the pace...
Subdued exhilaration when the going gets too hard.
At last the top is right above. An added burst of strength
Dispels the peril of defeat. One final forward thrust
Victory is mine. The summit reached I gaze in awe
Surveying with pride my sprawling kingdom down below.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Contest: Pinnacle
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Rising
I climb towards the pinnacle of my mind
Slipping on my inconsistancies
Grabbing at the edges of my understandings
Afraid to look down
For fear I will fall into my abyss
My feet hold fast
Pushing me upwards
Extending my reach to the next crevice
My brain’s intricate folds
Jagged memories
This words I hold onto
They slow my ascent
My not good enoughs
My cannots
My I've always been this way
Here I am hanging upside down
Telling myself
I'm tired
I can't hold on
It's okay to let go
But wait
I grasp
I reach for the I can
Until I pull myself to solid ground
I stand upon my finite understanding
Now I realize I was never alone
Ropes of hope had held me in place
Over the landscape of my life my eyes trace
Seeing clearly my yesterday
Each step that led to today
All the people that helped me find my way
I realize I have not come to the end of me
My landscape is ever changing
I flap my wings and rise above my mountain
My possibilities are endless
For now my mind is free
In the distance
Eternity
Time is not insurmountable.
Feet clamber the heights
Each pair of varied cadence
Eyes are on another’s feet.
Scaling the stairway
I focus on every step
Dead set on my arrival.
At the pinnacle
An old man sits on a throne –
He saw me and heaved his last.
Standing at the top
I feel old and the world turns -
Down, others enjoy the climb.
From the mountaintop
The waters rush to the ground
Seeping through bedrocks and plants.
Having reached the peak
I'll keep on the life cycle -
Seeking for the lower ground.
9.28.14
Pinnacle
My indefinite existence on this winding road
Discovering passage through woods a peaceful abode
As powdery dust blocks my vision
Then settles so I can see my mission
The wondrous pathway
Long and lengthy leading me astray
As I climb to reach the top
I stand upon the pointed rock
This is my most successful point
Nothing can disappoint
The culmination of my journey
The wealth of thoughts received is worthy
It is the breath of my success
A job well done in a personal sense
The covering capstone becomes a gemstone
Where I stand-alone
Meaningful words turns lyrical
I’ve reached the pinnacle
Margaret Franceschini September 30, 2014
PINNACLE
With a piggyback of hopes and dreams, I set forth to reach a peak.
Along bed of roses, rocks and tall sharp weeds, I harvested golden grains of progress. The days and nights rang a wake-up kiss on my head. They told me: "Move on, move on...Don't ever give up..."
There are rainy days on the way. A rain shower teased my climb halting me for awhile. Some so strong, I faltered - gained some wounds. Some directly stabbed my heart. And somehow, sometimes they even knocked my very soul. Although tough thunder tremors shook me, I fought hard to stand still continuing my climb.
Each height I step onto, I came to know moon and stars. Some of them began a war with me. Some of them a veil of fraud. But blessing, most have shed a continuing guiding light. Some hugged me. And wanted me to stay but some pushed and pressured me until I am all like a dripping sponge.
The potpourri situations brought me: a ladder closer to our God. His faithfulness and unfailing love a durable adhesive to my persistence and dreams.
A rainbow after each rain drew a promise of sun-kissed days. They melted the cold lonely years away. They permitted me a walk and run to heavenly meadows. Finally, I reached the pinnacle where grins a forever familiar tale.
(c) Olive Eloisa
2:07pm
October 01. 2012
I don't understand you, so...that means you don't exist.
You create spectacular works of art impossible to resist.
Your thoughts and actions are written down, in indelible ink.
Ignorance and ingratitude doesn't move me to ponder, to think.
It's much harder to say, I'm confused by you, I just don't understand,
What is the purpose for my existence, where do I fit into your plan?
A humble person will admit they need help, that they might be wrong,
Misguided or misled, they still feel the need to be loved and to belong.
When one doesn't understand abstract art, because there's no nature scene,
Rejecting Twelfth Night, because they don't know what Shakespeare means.
Saying Picasso doesn't exist, because one doesn't know his brilliant mind,
Isn't saying there's no Creator the same, presumptuous, the pinnacle of pride?
John Derek Hamilton November 20,2015
Of
travel-
the moment
of returning
home
I
Started
Up the path,
Not knowing what
I would find up there.
Passing the foothills, then
Stopping to catch my breath,
I gazed upon the mountain itself:
Barren, rugged wind-swept granite.
The pinnacle was somewhere beyond,
Hidden by a crown of feathery rain-clouds.
The path weaved back and forth, mostly climbing,
Occasionally entering fissures, once passing by a cave.
The higher I climbed, the less worn became the pathway,
Eventually looking like something only a mountain goat would climb.
Passing through the clouds, I could seldom anymore see what was below.
It got colder. I struggled to catch my breath; I could see I was near the summit.
I didn’t have a flag to plant, so I just sat on a rock, listened to the wind and my heartbeat.
At the top of my mountain
Were many writers of words
Each step I took was fraught with despair
They were so good
I tentatively wrote and pasted on my page
No comment received
My heart sunk, was I that useless
Picking up the pen I started another
Yet another and another.
One day a comment appeared
My heart was bursting with joy
I had arrived,
someone deemed to comment
My journey to perfection had started
This was my achievement my aim.
Thank you to that person for helping me
Reach my pinnacle.
Penned 16 September 2014
Vishwamitra was enraged
how he been duped
by Deity King Indra
felt ashamed of
lost all the virtue
gained through years
after penance and asceticism
distanced from mother so child
got back to penance.
Menaka birthing queen melody
left newborn in the forest
Abandoned by parents
sage Kanva found
A baby girl
in dark lovely woods
surrounded in the solitude
wilderness by Sakuntas birds
therefore, she been named
Shakuntala
foster father
kind gentle
The Greatest Sage
wise illustrious ascetic
radiant Rishi Kanwa
shakuntala blessed by
fatherly love of sage Kanva
O father kanva
you are merciful
kind hearted
I bow to you
million times
banks of the Malini River
Shivalik hills of the Himalayas
Shakuntala's girlhood so blessed
roaming around
greenery of the hills,
accompanied closest friends
Anasuya and Priyamvada
Shakuntala grew up
salient alluring,
young woman,
radiated youth,elegance
clad in cotton robe
ornaments of roses
sweetest melodies voice
honey like sober
So gentle soft-spoken
birds and animals
woods drawn to her
surrounded by timid animals
often petting deer
bark-dress conceals
the splendid orbs
hermitage blooms like lotus
beauty and love
she Radiates with own brightness,
like an ornament
hidden in the duckweed
the lotus glows,
dusky scars
face of the moon
heighten radiance
thus Sakuntala's Beauty
only revealed Conceals
indeed,beauty lies in
concealing beauty
The monarch is young
handsome and brave
hunting lasted for days now
He was tired,
thirsty and hungry
stood with reverence
before the sacred grounds
Rishi Kanva’s hermitage
It was inviolable
Anybody here ?
echo came back
striking tentative heart
beautiful nymph came
simply attired
glowing with
innocence and charm
The king awe-struck
she queried politely
how could the Hermitage serve you?
O King ! I await your command
Royal king Dushyanta
soundly Atoned
singular beauty,
her sweet demeanor
O charming one
O amiable one
Who are you ?
faithfully
O beautiful one
Why are you in these woods ?
such beauty and virtues
Whence have you come ?
O charming one,
you touch my heart deeply
to be continued...................
The Marvel of the Peak
There is a disconnect, a denial perhaps,
of the years endured. A separation of
the mind and body, a landlord/tenant
disagreement regarding the use of the
facilities in question. The physical plant
functions well enough, and the tenant,
well, he thinks not at all of the age, the
wear and tear, the creaking staircase,
the rattling, banging pipes. And so the
mind commands the body to go forth,
to push the limits of its worn and tender
joints, to subtly master fate, to surrender
only begrudgingly, to hold life to its name,
and live. Age has not taken my dreams,
nor shall I submit my vision to the
dimming light, nor release my hold
for lack of tighter grip. I will demand
of mind and body that they serve the
spirit that we are and carry high the
banner that is life, the passion that
is love. I will not squander the gift on
a sofa. I will bear the twinge of time’s
torment, adjust to altered gait and
slow ascent, yet still move upward,
ever upward, thrilling always at
the marvel of the peak.
John G. Lawless
Surfeit of stalagmites barring, hampering my way
Clouds descending from heavenly heights
Obscuring my outlook in the rarified air
Mount Certes challenged all my senses
Aching muscles, pounding heart, gasping intakes of breath
But for all that I felt elated, ecstatically elated
My soul craved for such a challenge an achievement made
I hesitated pondering whether to rest for sustenance
Or carry on unreservedly whilst still light enough to see
There were mountain caves inhabited by Franciscan monks
Many mystics through the ages marvelled at Certes enlightenment
Mount Certes was inaccessible by the seaward side
Sheer chalk cliffs had disintegrated battered by stormy seas
Atop the mountain was the Pinnacle chapel
Once offerings had been made on the site to the Greek Gods
Recent excavations had uncovered many artifacts
Venerable was whispered by town folk below
Whenever the mystics descended for the yearly penitents offerings
Was I strong enough to reach the Pinnacle?
My unswerving faith would ensure
Though my unfit body would be a daunting problem
Recently I had decided to reassess my whole lifestyle
I wanted to be reborn in my values and jaundiced outlook on life
Washed clean, inviolate new goals and to be strengthened spiritually
God would surely forgive my introspective selfish ways
Confess and your sins shall be forgive you
Professed to have been spoken about by the disciple Peter
coming directly from the lips of Jesus himself
I was a sinner, still am, until I reach the Pinnacle of perfection.
Occupied without you, my heart still has much to accomplish,
stumbling through days and nights saddled with lofty goals.
Pressed near collapse by your face and smile, these my daily inducements,
today no heavier than yesterday, the weight of my endeavor seems greater still.
No closer to the sweet pinnacle, harsh hurt gives way to emotions and endless steps,
struggling to advance still in the direction of dimly lit aspirations.
- Written 11 June 2014 at Fort Hood, Texas