This is the third poem in my series ‘The Climber’. Links to the other 2 can be found at the bottom of the page.
He breathes climbing.
He eats and sleeps climbing.
Hell, I guess he even farts climbing.
His would be the van you didn’t notice,
Parked unobtrusively in the farthest corner.
His, the life pared down to the bare minimum.
If asked, he might condescend to teach for a day,
To earn enough to buy some food.
For a week or more.
Or perhaps to go towards that new rope
That he really ought to get.
But he will resent the waste of his time,
When he might be climbing.
Just as he will, too, on those days when
The rain just falls and falls.
And he sits frustrated beneath the shelter,
Dispensing good advice and
Recounting adventures
To anyone who will listen.
Or muttering ‘Perhaps we should all move
To Spain, or Yosemite,
To somewhere it doesn’t rain
All the bloody time.’
But when the weather clears
His good humour will return
And he will be back on the crag.
Climbing any route you care to suggest.
Links:
FARTS climbing !!?
(Just to prove I read your poems!)
Hope all’s well.
Sarah
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Indeed! I like my poems to be refined and classy! All is well, thanks Sarah. We should have a beer soon…
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Good plan ! Let me know when’s good.
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Will do.
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Nicely done, Mick. I see this guy, hear him, as well.
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I’ve met one or two, Frank. Thanks.
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Not a social climber, then, and easily piqued. You’ve created a vivid portrait, enjoyed it!
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Thanks, Robert. No one could ever describe me or my friends as social climbers!
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Your poem has so much reality built into it – farts! Good one!
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Thanks, Arv. I like to be as realistic as possible!
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I’m glad we are the same side 🙂
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Always, Arv!
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Another good one Mick, evokes thoughts of a guy we all know. I think I farted climbing once but i soon got over it.
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I used to see/hear a lot of that when climbers were making difficult or scary moves!
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One’s passions drives the person on and ultimately fills their bones and soul. Very nice, Mick.
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Thanks, Dennis. I’ve certainly met a few very driven climbers over the years.
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Made me smile. One of my friends who likes to call himself a professional climber would climb trees, lampposts, walls if he couldn’t get to the mountains.
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Ah, I know the type!
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My daughter and her husband do cross country skiing. They climb with their friends also. Obstacles never discourage them.
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I have a friend who is an avid hiker, and this poem defines him to a ‘T’, only substituting the word ‘hike’ for ‘climb’. I loved this poem … made me smile! 😊
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Thanks, Jill. I’m more of a hiker, these days…possibly always have been.
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I’m afraid of heights, so climbing would definitely NOT be my cup o’ tea!
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On the other hand, I’ve taught a few who were afraid of heights and went on to climb well.
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🙂 I have a little 2-step ladder I use for getting things from high shelves, etc. I do okay on the first step, but if I have to go to the 2nd step, I begin having chest pains! 😱
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Perhaps you need to rope up…
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He is one happy man. A good one Mick.
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He is, generally. Thanks, Rupali.
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Zen and and the art of climbing.
Except when the fart also ascends.
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Certainly better than it descending, Dave!
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