At Desolation Peak
At Desolation Peak: I feel freed from the joy of hope, relieved by the shivering heat of reckoning; Thus my legacy commences without beginning or ending, Reaching nowhere like a void communicating with itself within me without me; I see — My mind's a wind-torn hall filled with empty things; I feel — the heat of the late night- coffee I can't smell — or hear vibrations' neuro-sensitive despair, all where everywhere was worn out; My life's the meaning that refuses to exist so Visions of hell and what's worse fail to frighten me; I have become the words I could never pronounce, the very thing I Suppress in speech.
Dedicated to Jack Kerouac
Cool poem. I hiked the eastern half of the Pacific Northwest Trail this summer, hoping to hike the western half in 27'. Which goes right past here near Ross Lake!
Some beautiful reflections, the mix of the metaphysical with the sensorial is well proportioned and portrays the heightened nights of profound meditations