Month: March 2013

Wonderland

~ sixthsymph ~ 6 Comments

A life in ruin,

With every founding brick

Crushed into crimson dust,

Again;

/

To start anew, where

In this frigid, barren land

Do I begin to look for

The strength?

/

Under the moon I

See but pale ghosts

Of what has been,

And miss

/

The things I loved

And thought I knew, but

It seems now like they never

Did exist

/

Under the sun I

See only silver whirlwinds

Of rising dust, and breathe

Them in:

/

I was the one,

Out of whose mind they have escaped,

And so to hide them in my chest

I shouldn’t fear

/

Under the spring rain

I’ll kneel and slowly wash myself

Of everything I used to dream of

And dread

/

So when the skies

Are clear, I can begin to build

Another beautiful but fragile

Wonderland

~ sixthsymph ~ 2 Comments

An interview with yours truly by the awesome Grant ‘Axe’ Rawlinson.

Rowing from Home to Home

You don’t bump into many woman climbing the worlds highest peaks without oxygen, let alone 26-year-old, tall blond ones!  Hear first hand from my teammate from Everest 2012, Liudmila Mikhanovskaia about her audacious plans for 2013.

Mila – you about to leave in 7 days time to attempt an audacious challenge. Please give us an overview of what you will be attempting?

 I will attempt to climb Everest via the Southeast Ridge route without the use of bottled oxygen. My plan initially was to try to attempt Lhotse [immediately] after Everest, but I have now ruled that out because I don’t think it’s a realistic proposition, at least, not for me. I am, however, interested in trying to swim across the frigid Pumori Lake at about 5300 meters, near Everest Base Camp. Needless to say, the climb is the priority and something I would like to – and have to…

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~ sixthsymph ~ 2 Comments

An interview with Margret Watroba, my climbing inspiration, and, perhaps, the best and most amazing human being I have ever met. Enjoy!

Rowing from Home to Home

One of the great joys I have discovered in mountaineering, has been the friendships I have struck up along the journey.  I have shared tents in remote mountain ranges with people of different colors,  races and religions.  From different countries and from different cultures.  Yet despite all these differences, I have learnt we are all very similar.  We desire similar things.  Peace, security and safe environments for ourselves and our families to grow up in.  Personal freedom.  A desire for education and knowledge.  And most of all a passion to explore and experience the world. 

Below is an interview with a special lady whom I had the pleasure to meet whilst climbing the North Ridge of Mt Everest in 2012.  Hear Margaret Watroba’s story in the interview below.

Margaret – this is your 4th Mt Everest expedition. Can you give us a brief overview of your last 4 expeditions and…

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A Writer and a Reader

~ sixthsymph ~ 4 Comments

After you’ve read all my tales,

I am sorry we should meet like this,

When I am in a grey kind of state,

Trying too hard to be too many things

/

I am sorry that I, too, can cry

That I fail, disappoint, loose, dispair;

That, in fact, I am not at all brave,

And not beautiful, unique or wise

/

I am sorry that my moods change fast,

When, like now, black doubts overwhelm me;

I am sorry I can’t bring my lips

To smile for you, who came far to see

/

Someone you thought you liked because

On a good day she was good with words

Bury Me Deep

~ sixthsymph ~ Leave a comment

Bury me,

And bury me deep,

Under the tallest of mountains,

Under the vastest of seas,

The deadliest of blows,

The most hurtful of insults;

/

Bury me

Under your lies,

Your fear, ill-masked with indifference,

Under a million of smiles,

Which turn into snakes

Sliding down from your lips

/

Bury me deep,

Where you think

None would be able to find me,

Somewhere light doesn’t exist,

A place like your heart, where

Truth is merely a word

/

Bury me deep,

So you know

I’m not as fragile as my bones,

Nor as easily bruised as my skin,

Nor as quiet and tame as

The sound of my voice

/

Bury me deep,

For my heart

Beats at the top of the world

In the hands of a wrathful goddess,

To whom I entrusted it,

Dying of cold

/

You could bury me,

Bury me deep,

But my heart at the top of the world

Would forever continue to call

Me from the darkest of corners

Of the Earth –

/

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