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seattle, concrete-bound pier, your slipknotted sidewalks/city blocks traverse the port. when i was young i never dared set foot into your dense skeleton, all asphalt and stainless steel and sometimes, in the barrios, slumping wood. but one day, after finding myself, after clutching blue bus pass like a shield: you became a vast, unfamiliar home where would I be without your droves of anonymous faces like grapes cascading from a vine and your sky? oh, your sky? framed, always, by the rooftops, enough that ill never see your moon but from those very same rooftops? i had no idea you were so endless. you remind me to be finite. you sleep on the sea like a wayward soap bubble stranded on the surface. it is as if you have come from man's feeble attempts at creating beauty. you are not colorful, a sunken ship, or an edge waiting to slip, neither understood nor incomprehensible. you are as sharp as a canine’s point. you arrive bearing due west, towards the ocean's blue underbelly while your space needle salutes the moon. I have marveled at your gardens, be them of sound, glass, metal, or plants. chihuly begs us to take up landscaping. you’re seattle, the gay city, the starfish in the sand. you are a marvel. just as our flag, you are as vibrant as the midnight sun. you are not warm by any measure, all overcast rainy days, but you are definitely made true by your severity. how fluid you are, and along the highway the boardwalks rock with the winter waves. oh, seattle, you are the worst traffic and the endless night life. without you i would have never heard of the food truck that sells the best bubble tea and chicken wings. with you i find new ways to fall in love. this is why, seattle, you are the embrace i can slip into and lose myself in, why you refuse to let time run the same, why you shock hearts like a defibrillator on the roofs of the strobing nightclubs. i have praised many things, but for me you are more a fever dream than a dance floor of forgotten time. to my eyes, you are an ocean drowning in itself. ((i used the same form as ode to the visible universe but with less improv. heres the template i used from my poetry class: ode template.pdf
the shades of gray that paint the concrete trees that glitter with scales of glass and steel exoskeletons are beautiful I suppose and the morals of the people here seem to match every possible shade of gray always in between never entirely here nor there a purgatory a maze that I will never finish let me out of this labyrinth, I cry nobody hears me or at least nobody cares to stop another beggar on the cobblestoned corner the sidewalk stained with god knows what or perhaps even god hasn’t been informed I shrink in this concrete jungle played down to a speck a pebble lost in a gravel driveway a sea of humans and noise and infinite grays the color comes through signs that scream and dance and lure us in sirenlike signals and the people with their ideas and words and clothes and music and sound I still feel small but I know this corner this little circle and I can navigate by the stars I cannot see because I know how the ground looks below them and I know the colors here the beauty that hides within the power of people Another poem inspired by @thepensword (Urban Hive go read it) and also by the biggest US city I ever visited I actually really love cities but I was small so I was overwhelmed and don’t really remember much of it. But, I now have a whole bunch of other city poems I want to write so I’m out of my sad uncreative spiral!
it's under bridge and round bend and there there she is my city oak-tree tall and bursting with life there's welcome in rainbow letters on the side of that building welcome it's an urban web where here's the suburbs and there the city there's so many towns it's like there's no difference it's one hive with many queens that school building tall and red-brick and old with the lockers inside that don't open and the kilns in the basement place of learning begats place of learning but now there's paint on her hands and chalk dust on her face and look out the window, there's the main street with colorful banners and art installations it's we have too much money so now this is cobblestone it's take this old building and paint it something new back to the oaks and the flashing tree building-side there's walter, wrapped in flags in bronze and bright and watching the crowds go to the fall and here i am on the ground level with the asphalt and covered in pigment there's a face on the street before me and the faces around me watch as down the block an acrobat backflips under flame-bright showmanship and the dancers twist as the people applaud bronze faces on the steps watch the children run laughing mom did you see the butterflies i saw the butterflies and i was one of them once when here i am, behind the bronze faces on slip-and-slide wood beneath the stagelights grace wins the election and i sing my delight and watch the little girls scream out their praises in the seats below look at her. look at what we could be. all are welcome say the rainbow letters and the air is full of song from the open-air amphitheater i sat there once and cheered and cheered and many times more by the lake with the ducks and the turtles and above, bright-lightning fireworks as the symphony swells welcome to the hot summer with sticky skin and damp hair welcome to the forest paths and the city corridors to the old buildings made new to the library built up high and the butterfly houses and the red-bar playground i once hung from the green bars and climbed that tree until i was tall the children still laugh on that playground every friday mornings with that orange flag that's where we're going this week be wild, be free be welcome welcome to the pyramid hive to the ant's nest amid the hills go east to the ocean or west to the mountains or stay here here with those rainbow letters and the flashing building tree come see the butterflies, see grace win, be someone new create your own world within the concrete walls march down the street with the signs held high and stand beneath that acorn demand your existence welcome, i ask the city and welcome, it answers back. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ don't mind me, just following the trend and writing a city poem.