A narrative poem

Photo by Author

Make for base camp
at the break of dawn
shorts and boots
a t-shirt and a 50-pound pack
sun shining
the reflection
causing sweat to bead on the brow
post-holing through
the soft wet snow
making for high camp
at 10,000 feet

Finally pulling into
the temporary base
sore and exhausted
but nothing like
what was to come
bed down for the night
at 9 p.m.
but sleep is elusive
for the altitude is unforgiving

The guides start stirring
at 3 a.m.
to check the weather
circling the 14,411-foot summit
finally breaking camp
in the 20 degree weather
to start the 8-hour climb
to the far…


A song

Photo by Tim Trad on Unsplash

You met him in high school
they always did say
a second-string QB
that never did play

But few people knew
there was planted a seed
and all that he wanted
was to trade paint and speed

So off to the circuit
and winning would follow
you want to be happy
but success just rings hollow

He called you back often
when he had the chance
this was not your idea
of a perfect romance

Daytona nightmares and Rockingham dreams
You think that you know, but it’s not what it seems
One day, you’ll meet again
It’s not the end


A poem

Photo by furkanfdemir from Pexels

I don’t use mirrors much these days
I don’t like what I see
the person staring at my face
surely can’t be me

I’m not sure when the change took place
when I became much older
gone now are my halcyon days
and a life lived so much bolder

I think back on the years gone by
of standing high on mountains
now I’m happy just to watch
children play in fountains

I wonder if my trips abroad
are grinding to an end
and harder days are coming now
right around the bend

I feel a greater power
that is…


Marc Chagall, Over the town, 1918, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, Russia

A poem


How I discovered writing through an obscure Mickey Rourke movie

Free to use (CC0) via Pexels

Way back in 1994 I was browsing movies on HBO and came across a movie called Barfly. It was a film from 1987 and stars Mickey Rourke and Faye Dunaway. I didn’t know at the time the movie was about the celebrated author and poet Charles Bukowski, and his fictional alter ego Henry Chinaski. The movie is a semi-autobiographical story about Bukowski’s early years as a drunk in Los Angeles circa 1975. Also, the title of this piece is the toast that Henry Chinaski gives when he buys the bar a round.

In the movie, only snippets of his writing…


A song

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels

As the sun shines through my window
and I start another day
thirtysomething, disconnected
searching for my way

Back into the rat race world
I barely feel I’m seen
the only thing to get me through
a big cup of caffeine

And I look at you with your Starbucks smile
makes me want to stay awhile
short on passion, long on style
and then you walk away

And I look at you with your Starbucks smile
all life’s questions put on trial
will she go the final mile
and then you walk away

New millennium approaching
who should really care
another month…


A poem

@1walter2 on Unsplash

There is little doubt in my mind
that motherhood
has to be one of the toughest jobs
on the planet

Not only do mothers have to
care for a child for 18 years (on the low end)
but they also must attempt to shape the child
into becoming a productive member of society

It seems to me though
that there is almost always one child
in every family
that is destined to be the black sheep

One child that will never live up to expectations
and always get into trouble
and will always find a way to make the mother
feel like she…


A poem

Photo by Harun Tan from Pexels

The old man never really had any friends
he had dedicated his life to his work
and never made any truly personal connections
even though he was always surrounded by people

He had made many breakthroughs in his field
had over a dozen patents and twice as many awards
and while he was considered a luminary by many
he always left every gathering by himself

When he finally retired
and moved to the east coast of South Carolina
he settled into a cottage not far from the seashore
to live out the rest of his days in solitude

Every day…

Mike Scarpiello

Interaction designer, writer, musician, poet, humorist, mountaineer, world traveler, bull runner, music junkie, craft beer enthusiast.

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