Poems about Antarctica

I love my work, I love my dogs
I love my wife, I love my life
It's not that I don't want to stay
But I'm looking for adventure
So I have to go away.

I'll never say I'm cold again
Not after being here
The stars will never shine so bright
The air will never seem so clear.

Not many people witness this
It's not a people place
Where the sun stays up all day and night
And the earth meets outer space.

There's not much food down here,
Just krill and fishy treats
No vegetables will ever grow
And you can't go out to eat.

Some say this place will drive you mad,
Nothing but ice and snow
Others that it gets to you
Like nowhere else they know.

Now I'm ready, soon I go
To the cold round bottom of the globe.

I will be busy, but there may be times
In those quiet moments that I find
To sit and reminisce
About the other cold round bottom that I miss
The one I left behind.

This ship has set sail
With a crew of fifty good men
And twenty heavily coated dogs
Over half the crew will be dead
By the time we reach our destination
On this secret government expedition
Journey to the bottom of the world
To find the Southern Pole
The wind blows us where no life lives
But the bitter cold

From North America
Past the southern tip of Argentina
Harbored at the Falkland Islands
For our last taste of civilization

Six months
Or maybe it was a year or more at sea
To the icy shores of another planet
Encased in endless days of darkness

The ship became marooned
In frozen oceanic tundra
For many winter nights
We the crew chiseled, shoveled
And pick-axed our way to break free
Of our prison made from solid crystal air

Finally unyielding land ahead
An unmovable iceberg
We dock and unload
Steady our sea legs to skis and sleds
The dogs take off across this untraveled land
Pulling us in tow
Faster against the frigid wind
Than our own frostbitten limbs would allow

Ninety degrees south latitude lies somewhere ahead
Blanketed in fresh snowfall and ice storms
Supplies and moral run low as this weary travel continues on

Shaded in zero visibility we set camp for the night
Harbored against the soulless chill
In a frozen crevice of ice mountain
Our health deteriorated and the dogs drained

Polar sleep sets in
The arctic wind chills us to the bone
And my cold eyes close

I said “Shhh.... ”.

To silence the multitude with familiar faces,
To keep you unscathed/unblemished
From the hollow words
Of people who haven't seen
A glimpse of your everglowing soul.

For you to be you to me.

Pristine.
My eyes.

Clegg was a pushy bugger
Who never locked his door
Pressed his friends forward for recognition
Of their efforts.
Quietly in the background
Without telling
What he was doing
For them
Never for himself
And in his selfless style
Died poor
He had little interest in material possessions
Gave most things away
And was smart enough to spend his last dollar
On his last day
©Gary Lewis 2009

Sometimes,
I wish my heart was as cold as
Antarctica.
Atleast then,
I wouldn't love you as much as I do.

But then I look at you
And I change my mind.
'cause I see that your heart
Is so much colder than antarctica
And I'd rather love you unconditionally
Than have such a cold heart.

You move closer to me like we're two tectonic plates
But I am Antarctica; frozen and endlessly distancing myself from you
And the sun.
You are Africa; cracked and sweltering
We are so far apart and you think you can understand me;
You can't read me like the atlas on your bookshelf;
There are no roadmaps to understand my brain.

*(a. m. c. )