By courting with death
we validate life
The deeper the fall
— the sweeter the height
(El Capitan, Yosemite: June 2017)
Adieu Ami, Mon Capitan,
Your voyage, hence has ended,
This Voyager, once befriended.
Adieu Ami, Mon Capitan,
The thrill for you, sailed the Seven Seas,
The will of crew, ever would appease.
Adieu Ami, Mon Capitan,
Your ship and crew behind you,
May Heaven soon remind you.
Why not write in the infinite sky?
So the words would flow in all directions,
We would tell stories of how it all began,
Of how thought appeared long before the stars,
And the truth was born from the absurd, the unthinkable.
Is life a drifting boat, without a rudder and captain?
The more we think, the more we lose ourselves
In the running waters that flow into solitude.
The sea doesn't know time - always a mystery -
Just like dreams, which navigate profound worlds.
With each dawn, we grow old into a new world,
Full of gaps and abysses where the future lives,
In a house with infinite doors and empty rooms.
Why not write in the infinite firmament,
Instead of on a flat computer screen?
by Airton Parra Sobreira
El Capitan - you are a joint
Within the Sierra Nevadas
Of punctuated granite -
A sentinel of the ages.
Sylvestris partition -
Beam of silver - or steel -
Are you a step to heaven
Or a capstone for hell?
Stern expression of peace -
Keeper of fortitude -
Of what would you speak?
Would I even understand you?
Illustration Caption: Frederick Law Olmsted,
father of American Landscape Architecture,
at "El Capitan" iconic summit, Yosemite, CA,
in 1865.
Olmsted saw verdant paths of our core.
Urban sprawl separated at a cost
that let us know nature and adore.
Those who wander find awe is not lost.
Wilderness lands surely shape our view,
songs of soil, stone 'n star, none too far.
See what we, as humankind, dare do -
conquer the inner self where we are.
Landscape concerts to which all can go
futures for youth lie beyond the grids;
where one can become their own maestro,
raise up nature's promise for the kids.
Parks and places for all of our people
spaces for worship without a steeple.
14 Lines Sonnet 99 Words
Pen Illustration by G. Gaul
10/1/2022
Right foot into this little dimple that you can toe in on aggressively so it’s opposing the left hand, then you can, like, zag over across to this flat, down-pulling crimp that’s small but you can bite it.
[From Honnold’s climbing notebook.]
For me, the most transcendental feat –
your smeared soles at Freeblast Slabs,
your shoulder jammed into Offwidth
and cardiac-kick at the Boulder
were: Inspirational; unimaginable.
We sit in theatre chairs white-gripping
our armrests and, too often, eyes closed.
Up on El Cap as much as we’ll e’er be,
We twist our bodies in synchrony.
We’ve seen how immeasurable
the possible; the achievable
of the inconceivable. At last,
an image beyond the past; a hero
of no vanquished enemy,
brawling limitless potentiality.
Following your lead, we reimagine
how we might ascend our vallied lives.
Chilling in the caravan
learning hand to hand
man to man
one bloody palm over the world as we orbit n twirl
Spin a twin
flip her friend
Knocking down doors
Leveling the score
Raqeuteering, blackmailing, not to Badmention
Politician magic tricking women,
Don't play!
don't take away !!
?what we constitute!!!
Is it magic? , it is more ?
Teaching lessons ,molding habits
So I wont bore
Ill el Capitan ,save a woman
If that heart is tore ,
Inner intuitions
tell me open every door
Weeping for the ones sleeping
Peers peep-in ,
hopefully never sneak-in
Awakening the mental each n every weekend
Weakened body Withered by speed/ time or Trick and treatment
Peaceful moments of life created by love and light
Eyes wide open,
always seeing, never blinking,
unless I'm winking
Two options
Tossed into life
Clever thinking or
Endeavor sinking
When you look into reflection
Which king do you see?!?
2/10/18
Steve loves mountaineering, he was the first,
Visually impaired person to climb El Capitan,
Solo, and there he met Karen Darke, cyclist,
Who got him into para-cycling ‘cos it had can.
“Climbing is something I really love, so I hope
[I] never have to give it up. I’m certainly going
to make the most of it while I can. I just hope
it helps to inspire [disabled people],” adding,
“to believe that anything is possible if they set
their minds to it. If I can do it, [then] anyone can.”
Steve is a total sportsman, who loves to get
Challenged, and he feels met by the bike klan.
He was born in New Zealand but is a Scot today,
Is from Moray with ailment Retinitus Pigmentosa.
He trains in Manchester with pilot Adam Duggleby,
And went down a bomb at Rio, from others’ faster.
For the Individual Pursuit B he secured the gold,
And likewise in the Road Time Trial B, gold medal,
Outside in the Road Race B he stuck in to hold,
Onto a podium placement giving a bronze pedal.
Better Then Romeo &Juliet
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Corrupt me Darlin,
I am your velvet playground
you wandering, endless sea
let us sail into the unknown
when the waves crash us into the rocks
we will decide to fly
You are my sky Capitan
we will venture into the stars
across the universe
we will never come down from the magical high
but should our wings get clipped and we begin to fall
let us catch each other on the way down
we will gently float back to earth
hanging on to the blue crescent moon
but our arms will brace one another
cupid will find our reality
I will steal two of his many arrows
I shall make sure to aim into your heart
and then into mine
I never want to lose you, lose this
our story is epic
much better than Romeo and Juliets
we both live in the end
with a Future brighter than the brightest comet
our forever is etched in stone
and that is worth thousand lifetimes.
Date:7/15/15
Jessica Thompson
Shadows of light and darkness
Contrasting images of El Capitan
Half Dome sliced by an ice age glacier
I met him that day in Yosemite
Touched by the unique qualities of his photos
Fine prints are displayed at his gallery
I marveled at his skill
Black and white contrasts
Create spiritual moments and introspection
I brought him home with me
His work now hangs in my office
Ever inspiring, ever grand
*Written March 15, 2015, by Carolyn Devonshire in honor of black-and-white photographer Ansel Adams and his stunning photos of Yosemite National Park.
Learning to embrace me.
From my receding hairline
to the scar I received
when I was three.
My adaptability
and changing
spirituality.
For the things I keep
under lock and key
and the sentiments
I wish to say
but underscore them
in silent ways
The way I let moments slip
into tomorrow
and how satisfied I am
with simplified.
Yeah, I'm learning me,
A me I never knew
existed.
Don't need to search,
I was meant to surface,
shine and blind
with a beacon type light
waiting for El Capitan
to find me.
First rule of thumb
when your lost,
is to be still.
Now, I feel the way ahead
will include me,
instead of the opinions
of them, they and thou.
Embracing me
It's been quite a long while.
Yosemite’s huge boulders
Sliced in two in the Ice Age
Half Dome and El Capitan
Both carved by a sheet of ice, a glacier
Peering down from the mountains
Buttercups grace the valley
Where deer come to graze at dusk
Worlds of wonder wait at national parks
*A Parise Pariku for Rick’s contest.
Written June 21, 2012
Yosemite’s marvels
glaciers from the last Ice Age
sculpted Half Dome and El Capitan
alas, though I worship the almighty Hand,
I am but sand
compressed by elements
solidified by desert sun
pounded by wind
made porous by rain
withstanding, I remain
sandstone
vessel capturing microscopic organisms
purifier for aquifers
tan, brown and red
camouflaged in Zion Park
filter for nature’s emotions
heat’s scourge grows
water’s passion flows
sandstorm wind blows
yet I am not enraged
only engraved
uninfected, merely reflective
poetic words pouring from my cracks
aged by time
refined by nature’s whims
from dust I came
and dusty fate awaits
aging poet
weathered sandstone
TEXAS
Is a vast place, bigger than France, and in many ways much more interesting.
El Capitan reef, the Pecos, the Panhandle, all conjure up more imagination
Than a truckload of Monmartres, a shovelful of escargot, or a herd of poodles
Heaven for me must have stetsons and not guys with chic scarves and wineglasses,
Women who can jump a quarter-horse and round up a hundred maverick longhorn,
Not wasp-waisted scowlers with absurd dresses mincing on imaginary tightropes
CIVAL WAR
Men turned against men war fighting killing hate multiplying until Death ruled the
hearts of men carried over into Cowboys days of fighting killing and hate ruling
the hearts of men again taking hate to the new extreme of violence wins the
hearts of men again have you shined your shoes today mon capitan
have you ruled the words you speak yet have you grabbed the weapons of
destruction using them on the prisoners of Jesus is your coat a faded blue
turned gray is your trousers striped with yellow for the coward still in you
moving horses without food the horses soon become the food of men the stink
is wrong the meat does not keep men alive just bodies full of flies the war was
over long ago the winner was the Satanic Host and no one has an answer or a
prayer of cival war to come again the battle flag is raised and it is full of holes as
men are turned against the men of war.
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