Kerouac Never Had Views Like These

Ivy, Kudzu, and dreams of mountain views, they cling to the trees as I climb the steep Blue Ridge mountain trail.

My backpack gets lighter the higher I climb.
Water bottles get emptied and traded for mole skin notebook pages filled.

I take a rest on a wildflower field filled with blue, green, red, and a thousand shades of yellow since spring.
I reflect on past treks up this steep ascent.

I have traveled far and many miles on many days to conquer this trail.
The granite face view only changes a few times a year.

Granite mountain tops are made for reflection all their own.
Gorges, valleys, treetops, and that strange cell phone tower in the landscape add a distinctive story.

I walk the face all alone.
I stack some rocks in the brush to mark my journey.
I set a camera for delay and stand back for my portrait.

A hornets nest is my only company.
I admire their solitude and adventurous spirit to make a home all the way on top of the world.
I smile, take a picture, and send a non invasive wink their way.

I wipe my brow clean of the summer sweat and pack away my mole skin for words on another day.
I take one last look at the summer splendor I own in this hour before sunset.
I become mindful of the wonders of the world, and my life’s journey forward as I prepare my ankles for the journey down the rocky trail.


18 thoughts on “Kerouac Never Had Views Like These

  1. Fountains says:

    Kerouac may not have had the majestic blue mountains but he had the rustic, old dirt roads which is an inspiration of a different color (I’ve recently seen his house so I got excited at the notion you’ve referenced. Sigh. And I might be sort of bragging :P) Did you know the house is unchanged from when he lived there and now another writer occupies it so you cannot go inside? Took everything I had not to knock on the front door and announce my indignation. I apologize for rambling on your page.
    I wanted to say that your last poem is a bit of an explanation for this one. You are a painter as well as a poet. I like reading your poems because for the duration I am no longer sitting at a computer desk of plastic and metal, but at some high altitude with an amazing view. Feels good to be part of a place one’s never been. Your poetry takes people places. Thank you for the subscription, as well. Very honored.

    • Eddie Cabbage says:

      I love Kerouac! ” Avoid the world, it’s just a lot of dust and drag and means nothing in the end”

      He was exceptionally crazy too. I read Mexico City Blues and his free verse poerty/song is amazing.
      I am heading out the door right now to go for a hike that overlooks the gorge, Lake Lure, and is directly across from Chimney Rock state park. For some reason i waited till the hottest part of the day to leave. Oh well, I will sweat out last nights booze.

      thanks for reading and commenting!

      I am jealous you visited JK’s house. I live in Asheville most of the year walking distance to the Thomas Wolfe house. It is a museum now.

  2. Fountains says:

    Braggart! 🙂 See? I think they all should be museums. I’m dying to know who is the pretentious and pompous writer that believes they deserve to live and keep secret Kerouac’s house, anyway! Makes me so pissy, I could spit (I’m a bit bitter about the loss, can you tell? :P) Happy hiking!

  3. mindlovemisery says:

    That is true that would be my biggest issue, no aim at all it would be a disaster in that way. I once ran a 4 mile trail to get to a toilet rather than pee in the forest 😛

  4. Peggy Nolan says:

    I visited the bar where Hemingway wrote. His house is a museum but I never went in. Too many cats and my husband’s allergic.

    Now…if I could spend my days writing at an outdoor bar in the Keys, well…I’d be ok with that!

    • Eddie Cabbage says:

      I concur. I don’t think the keys exist anymore like they did fore Hemingway. Maybe one day we can all find a beach side writing venue all our own .

      Thanks for stopping by.

  5. Paul says:

    Reminds me of slogging up a Mont Blanc track to witness tourists in a cafe after hours of solitude, and the knee crunching descent… Evocative poem for me thanks.

    • Eddie Cabbage says:

      I love to people watch. Especially tourists in the Mountains. It’s like watching children wandering around disney land or maybe the amazement while waiting in line for Santa Clause in the mall

  6. Aaron Smigielski says:

    I would love to hear your story. Im going to keep reading your poems because I found a great understanding in this one. I am a man of nature and I just thought this poem was beautiful.

    • Eddie Cabbage says:

      Thanks! I am currently getting paid Booze and cigarettes to hear my story. I like Marlboro and Vodka Redbull…I hike Mountain tops to sweat out the payment for passion I take

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