Do only writers cry when a writer dies?
Do only musicians cry when a guitar player dies?
Do only climbers cry when a climber dies?
Lately I’ve cried from my eyes when people
I don’t know die
And lately there’s been a lot of them
by Luke Mehall (note: this piece is published in The Climbing Zine Book 2, now available)
I’m a poet
But…
I’ve never written any poems
They all write themselves
Just like the tears
Spilled into beers
My heroes are leaving
And by leaving, giving
I must prepare my weapons
Prepare my pens
To begin again
Don’t say
I wasn’t made
By the red, white, and blue
The Grateful Dead
That’s right, Daddy-O
I’m back on my Kerouac
Gimme that rucksack
And a fat sack
Don’t dominate the rap jack
If you got nothing new to say
It’s a brand new day
This whole world gets so fucking petty
And we just lost Tom fucking Petty
Those who get the gift
Also seem to get the drugs
I’m on my
One hitter quitter
But fuck the drugs
The world needs more hugs
The world needs more Princes
And Hayden Kennedys
Cried for that dude too
Both of those dudes
And for Inge Perkins too
Prince gave us purple rain,
Raspberry berets and pancakes
And Hayden showed us grades don’t matter
But only love and heart matter
I’ll probably never step to his lines
But I can show some token of thanks in lines
Give me time
I’ll do it all
Well I won’t
But whatever
Is driving
This poetry
Will
We all get born into the world in one way
But we get born another way from the art we parlay
Reading, writing, climbing, singing, dancing, painting
Give us another chance at life
Another chance to believe in life in this
World of strife
Write your poetry and your truth
Even if it only gets like one like
Life’s like this great happen chance
Of circumstance
And you.
You are here.
To inspire
Someone else.
Luke Mehall is the publisher of The Climbing Zine.
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