Long Mountaineers Poems

Long Mountaineers Poems. Below are the most popular long Mountaineers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mountaineers poems by poem length and keyword.


Spouse Sets Obstacle Course Endangering My Life and Limb

While sidestepping impediments,
Achilles heel stricken with paralyzing zap
chronically inducing captain klutz
to bemoan and yap,
i.e. (think) booby trap
strategically laid down by the missus -

necessitating yours truly
to patschke with marauder map
in an to circumvent and handicap
becoming lame and crippled for life
essentially rendering me totally tubular
pathetic non-ambulatory chap.

Aforesaid dangerous tripping hazard,
the spouse I do calmly berate
causing me being waylaid
for very important date
and/or additionally hurrying

to forestall bowel movement,
viz urgent incommodious fate
mine impromptu tanglefoot (feet) dance step
doth ineluctably foment hate.

Ready to lash out courtesy sanity claws
meanwhile thee wife burst out with guffaws
me cursing Sir Isaac Newton's gravitational laws
one infuriated husband
our marital covenant, he swiftly redraws
subsequently divorce sputters
thru clenched jaws

underscoring how feigned wedded bliss
(actually shotgun marriage)
replete with many flaws
e'er since chance encounter

regarding future maternal cause
deux daughters we begat
packed their bags at tender age,
and left home without pause.

All these approximate
two score plus oddly even years
avoiding precarious hazardous risks wears
heavily reinforced steel tipped
crampon tricked out boots,
which rugged footwear eventually tears,
though they outlasted lifetime

predicted on advertisements and follow up
customer satisfaction questionnaires
as satisfied survivor traversing
harrowing riddled landscapes,
I feel adequately trained to join

most hardy (doubting thomas) mountaineers,
especially those with surname Reznick
livingsocial, snapchatting, and twittering in Switzerland
possibly linkedin with Harris heirs
this wordsmith conclusively blares.

I non-jokingly attest -
above recounted spectacle no humorous avail,
thereby true love moost prevail
when wife leaves mayhem and bedlam
nothing boot trail of destruction without fail
excellent preparation if/when
purblind poetic papa needs to learn Braille.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Hidden

HIDDEN

                      On mountain top
                      none made a stop.
            Sublime solitude all around.
                     Hard rigid rock
                      stubborn block
                    with wild glossy grasses
                    and all dry feral masses
                                           prayed for noise and sound.

                 Peak left abandoned
                No stone even turned
          Neither animals wandered
                nor birds ventured.
                                             Traces of human steps not found.

                Gentle breeze touching in gay,
                Sun greeting with bright ray
                 can’t console rigid rock.
                It longed for sound to knock.
                                                   Tiring monotony knew no bound.

                 A team of mountaineers came to trek.
                   Jubilant guys shout and break
                         peace and calmness
                             over all silence,
                                                   prevailing perfect and profound.

                  Cheerful guys played and wished to prolong
                  danced in frolic mood, sang song 
                  screaming and clamor
                  in joyful glamour.
                  Noise of the crowd
                   running too loud.
                                 Their laughter, yells yielded echo all around.

                   Hard heart of rigid rock melted in pleasure
                     discovering great glorious treasure,
                    now exact time to measure.
                             Instant responsive hidden echo in its surround

     12/12/15
                 
  The Creative Collective Anthology Series Contest by Geraldine Taylor 
  
    Re-edited on 02/15/20

  Third Place

  Second Place
   
  ' "H"-Contest Old or New

   by Constance La France
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Trail I Travel

Some green; some grayish; some dark or brownish,
Grass-filled; grass-less; some portions clam clownish;
Ups-downs; zigzags; clumpy, ghastly, scary,
Beasts-like fringes clinging to dark aerie...

Herbs, shrubs, trees, climbers, creepers... in kinship,
Growing, like horses uncontrolled by whip;
Thorns, amidst wild daisies, as though saying,
Life, here, is no foolproof; it's tough weighing...

These cattle seem to prove dwellers nearby,
Cowboys, shepherds or nomads passing-by; 
Birds of feathers, as though safe reserve found,
Seem settle amid fear from harsh wild hound...

Mountaineers and hunters, hike here-and-there,
Single-minded; their pursuit well aware;
Amid saints-looking thieves and burglars, walk, 
With no fear within; chalk or block of knock...

Rocks are rough, tough; in some places soft, though,
I go on; though, sometimes, extremely slow;
Soil slips; stones crumble; feet fail to proceed,
Creatures breeding beneath dry leaves, sting-treed...

Sun is seen sometimes; hidden other times,
Moon and stars seem attuning to old rhymes;
Fogs, mists, ice and snows, as per, seasons change,
From cliffs I glimpse many a mountain range...

People accompany; yet, there's no crowd,
Someone from somewhere seem calling aloud;
Amid humans I'm, often, lone exile,
I know, yet, I should walk many a mile...

Though strange, all seem to give me company,
Each move of mine is in God's custody;
Fast or slow, goal of my life, I'll fulfill,
This trail will turn my voyage, full of thrill…

Though seem trackless my trail is not reckless,
Pure, fragrant breeze blowing here is speckless; 
Each grass grows, here, is full of friendliness,
Nature cuddles all, in complete kindness...

The trail I travel, O friends, is holy,
Vistas around, are perfect and lovely;
Each glimpse I glance and clasp so zealously,
It's foretaste of all that is heavenly...!


16 February 2022
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Privilege

Oh! How I long for that
one sweet moment of
loneliness, when the human race
decides to piss off, leaving me
to wallow in my own
company.
The pressurized world,
the ceremonious
corporate reciprocates, one’s
space to foul, with flouting
flagrant farts! Creating
thunderous turmoil, a
chaotic state of mind,
a wind of prevalent
change.
Innocent minds, virgin thoughts
collective breeding grounds,
stage upon stage, the master’s philosophy to
be acted out. His! To
nurture, to alter, personalities
to change, ideals to strive
for, directions to enforce.
The
new breed, created from
the production line of
progression, cantankerous wankers! Mountaineers
all. “No strings” Yet each one
a “Puppet” To the regime, each
one skilled in the art of
deceit, degrees in codhology, all
willing to sell their soul
to the executive.
“Interaction Management” The
suave enemy. “Believe it”
At one’s peril,
“The flattery
the empathy
the confidence”
Seek out! The expression
behind the expression.
If not! “One will love it”
Hook line and sinker, caught
in a web of verbal
trash, dressed up in treachery.
Soon
the moralist to become ridiculed,
their dispute subjected
to “Reductio ad absurdum” Yet
their accuser dances
amongst the clouds, eyes forever
searching skywards, the social
divorce permanent.
Who!
Are these arrogant ones,
those reared in such cynical ways,
their curriculum brimming with
intellect, yet without
the power to reason,
only the power to perform!
The forked tongue, the worthless hand shake
at Christmas time, the insincere
parody that floats across the
pay table.
Many years
I have given myself
to this crap, and here are
these bastards, having us
all feel grateful, for the
“Privilege
of
employment.”

© Harry J Horsman  1993

First Impression To Great Expectation

Sometimes, those difficult road
Will lead you to beautiful places
The opening view receives bad comments
For the road is rocky, unpaved and dusty
Many who travel by are not comfortable
Some hopeless and some wondered why
They travel such misery experience to repent
Left no choice but to go and move forward
The travel is truly a humpy-bumpy experience
Silence and self-censorship are the busy phrase
The way is lackadaisical turtle uphill and downhill
Feel refresh as the crisp air welcome them a mile away
Sudden break joy in the lungs and touching chill in the skin
All eyes now is exciting as the nature's nice view is unfolding
They alive their curiosity, on their cameras and now start recording
The road now quite smooth and under construction
To pave answer the town folks demands for government projects
You'll see the traveler's faces now are happy
For the place is a tourist attraction and staycation
There are natural spring, a local resort for tourists
Forest cabin for mountaineers, sky-rocket falls for nature lovers
More modest hotels and vacation houses for long-term stayers
Affordable beaches at the bay resorts for snorkels and bathers
Exuberant eaters of local and foreign delicacies are for choices
For a hungry mouth, mukbangers and food lovers alike
The place is a secluded paradise that only few discovered
What people hates first impression
God has provide great expectation.
Form: Narrative


I Feel the Seasons Through You

mountain peaks seek to forever commune
      with the very essence of lofty skies
         held inside my innocence here on earth
            as a winter blanket lays white against me
         so too your jagged ridges and valleys
      I feel the white envelope surround 
   about my tender written poem

      when comes the spring, the frosty bite
         is melt and gathers your riches 
            softly deposit them onto the banks
               of new flowers that adorn your light coat
            rebirth is sent to unfurl its iridescent wings
         bring the growth to bear the fruit
      sparkle against my eyes in emerald hues

   the summer months warm our core
      open your pathways for exploration on high
         see the shepherd and goat together
            along with eagle soaring, we all mountaineers
         as we step into your vast intensity
      I feel your cool breath clear the fog from me
   see quietude descend tumultuous mind

     while the sun ripens your forests to Autumn
         glorious cascades of bronze, I swoon
             my footsteps echo the inevitable slide down
                 to retreat to safe hearth of warmth
             dens of fortitude held fast
         I look upon your newly capped snow face
     and succumb to winters arrival

Premium Member None Great None Small

It’s, for me, not nature’s just one aspect or the other;
But, each creature of nature is greater than the other.
An ant moving unnoticed under any leaf or flower,
Rolling food, even under feet of animals much heavier;
An earthworm incessantly tilling anyone’s land,
And unassumingly lending farmers its helping hand;
The bee hummingbird that drinks nectar from flowers,
And by way of pollination, its gratefulness reciprocates; 
Beavers that in their masterly way reducing soil erosions,
And said to be improving the quality of water streams;
Llamas while making easy the mountaineers’ transportations,
Offer their hide and wool as fabrics, crafts, ropes, and rugs;
Rats that cooperate with human beings as regular rodents,
Though not considering themselves as contributing agents;
Squirrels that consistently shape plant compositions,
And impulsively burry seeds and enable plantations;
Crows the commonest of all scavenger birds in India,
Together with vulture, eagle, hawk, kite, and jackdaw;
Butterflies or dragonflies, or beetles or ladybirds,
Moths or bugs or bumblebees or leaf miner or spiders;
Animals domesticated or in the wild that might hit and kill 
Who’s great, who’s small, in the mysterious life-cycle?

7th May 2021
ALL YOURS (May 9) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand

The Abandoned Upland

Across the limpid and serene river, the oasis of the Wild West pioneers,
there are ivory and charcoal peaks waiting for mountaineers
to discover as they rest under the long-leafed pines that sway;
on this side, the saw-tooth oaks and the daisy bushes are lovely greeters.



Not long ago, this abandoned upland was the home of gold-diggers,
sarcasm and violence went hand in hand...even eagles could have lost their feathers,
and those cluttered wooden shacks weren't not built for comfort,
but with limited space, they could hardly stretch out their legs and sleep like bears.



Travelers are very fascinated by the peace and scenery, not seen from their urban lair;
come to enjoy a short period of tranquility and breathe in the crisp air:
some write, some paint...others dream away to visualize that great era!
Look past that river, willow oaks and maples can soothe the travels of a trudging bear. 



Find your spot, whenever you choose and be vowed by an imagination so rare;
take off your fedora hat and go beyond those mountains brightened by the sun's glare,
let a mockingbird or shrike delight your senses with their beautiful song...
with a fervid wish, let them take you where they have watched the new moon's mare.
Form: Rubaiyat

Sherpa Musings

upon reaching the frozen summit,
the mountaineers jump in jubilation,
then proudly unfurl and firmly plant
the damp flag of their faraway nation;

oh, how they noisily whoop it up,
strutting in chest-thumping elation,
slapping each other's shoulders
in riotous joy and celebration;

ecstatic over what seems to them
is a real monumental conquest,
a sense of having personally tamed
the awesome, looming Mt. Everest!

nearby, squatting, huddling close,
handling the baggage of each climber,
seven  sturdy, veteran Sherpa guides,
through the years, still quietly wonder:

what really is the big, big deal
these batches of city folks make
out of just standing on this peak,
a slow, boring trek for its own sake?

what is there fit to brag about
in climbing slowly and leisurely,
unburdened by loads of provisions
the silent Sherpas carry for a fee?

why, with modern climbing gears,
an alert chopper hovering above,
food supplies, gadgets, equipment,
they're luckier than a winter dove!

but really, what they can do in days
Sherpa lads hunting in the wilderness,
with less preparation, on short notice,
can easily do in just a day or even less !
Form: Rhyme

Avalanche and Aurora

they were up there, on the stage,
" exotic dancers", the term they 
gave; the tall one "Avalanche", 
the shorter, "Aurora"

long black limbs , Aurora's, graceful
steps so Avalanche, her marble feet 
pure snow

they intertwined and caught our men's 
eyes, as we looked and fantasized of 
being with one, or the other, (or both)

and the tepid rhythm rumbled on, from 
speakers in the curtained roof, while mouths 
dribbled and trousers moved, like stallions we 
trampled hooved

and as the caravan of tempting lust, swung the 
hip and charming bust, the distant sound of beer
and jar, chinkled from the busy bar

and down the mountain slope she came, Avalanche 
a wild chicane, lit by Aurora's northern light, 
G string gone and tassles free, thundered on
the mountain slope and sky, 

and soon on trapeze across the room, over tables,
drinks, and cloudy hush, the twin nature's beauties
wearing only their bush, and below, the valley
the mountaineers, sweating in expectant gush

and when I trek among the peaks in dangerous 
snow and coloured skies, I remember the twins,
one black one white, their avalanche and northern light

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