On Losing (and why that's not the point)

The unclimbed peak, to me,

restless little heathen

of commercialized adventuredom,

is the interminable challenge.

Ferocious, majestic, riveting spires

that obscure the humble hill

in the long-suffering alpen lake,

incapable but inculpable of communicating

to each indignant spire

that his hair is wind-blown out of proportion.

The tallest of the circus of unclimbables is the ego.

You, yet, haven’t a right to anything

higher than your handsome profile.

Picture the modern alpinist:

endorsed by every groan of industry

he can summon

and recall

the haggard heroes

of Expedition Honesty.

The winds of mountains global follow eager little eyes

and when did they ever lose?

So be rawed and awed and hat-holding cold

when meeting the expectant squall,

for man does not climb by legs alone,

for a trophy we atrophy needlessly.

Heedless, our uninformed enemy


Recent Posts

See All


resilience is not always a stiff upper lip it is not always silence sometimes resilience is screaming the throat sore and bruising the hands against the door and waking up to the next day something re


a season, a season sing to yourself a season but to your bones it is deep, deep winter

calling all gods everywhere

Calling all gods everywhere — make yourselves useful; cease your petty quibbling and show yourselves. It has appeared that unless you alone (I speak to each little god, each little you) are master & c

+1 (202) 384-5561

  • Visit my Facebook page!
  • Visit my Instagram

©2017 by The Kilele Project. Proudly created with