Cities I've Passed Through

1. Desolation.
I look up, past the vectors of facades
to see a sky about to roll with storm.
It will rain tonight.
Dirt grinds into my boot. Dust blows past
on a highway of wind. As I walk this city's
lone street, I think: This is where tumbleweeds
are born.
Every building is locked from the inside,
and their very presence prevent an encompassing
view. I know that I am watched.
Yet I notice a small sound, quiet and
constant. It feels very much like a heartbeat.
Maybe one day I will try all the doors,
but my time allowed here now is up. I
have had plenty  hospitality for today.

2. A turbulent sea town with the most beautiful
boardwalk and timber that creaks beneath my
feet. Today the sun is shining & blinding but
it's never hot for long.
La mer will rise to its mythical best,
swirling the clouds into a troubling form.
Wind has battered the boardwalk before,
so it's no surprise for its people to cover
and duck into the nearest house.
Miraculous! I have survived with the most
weathered of women who took me in to her house of hope. Children clinging to pier
pylons giggle, adrenaline sloughing off them. Pastel colors return to the town.
Teals and seagulls call from above. It's
a beautiful day once more, the hustle
to rebuild stops, the city simultaneously rejoicing,
then everyone runs to the shore.

3.You wouldn't think there'd be a nightlife here,
with streets that smell of copper & dirt.
But it's here all right, in the heirloom silver
heart of downtown that's been struggling
against dust.
Here the people make their shine, bumping
and grinding to polish off their edges.
They must reflect their multi-colored light.
To an outsider, it's one weird disco ball.
But they have plans.
To scrape off the rust they were all born to,
To find an inheritance of worth.
This is their heritage. That these brittle
people, so young in the earth, were not afraid
to melt down their past for their future. To
create a generation of steel.
They have plans for this city. Practically magical
plans. Sparks will fly over the heirloom
heart,yes,
but no one think it's  far-fetched to
pave the streets with gold.

4. At the crest of a hill, the entrance
to the city, there rises an...observatory.
Small and unimposing, but not easily
passed by. Tonight the crescent moon
beckons, casting its blessing of light on
the door.
Empty, except for the telescopes and
the echoes of movement.
A single huge telescope in the center
of the room, looking up, up, up...
Then an arc of spyglasses to the
right, pupils dilated toward the city.
Here, there are stars, thousands and thousands of stars,
orbs of light indiscernible from planets, galaxies, or flashlights.
Affixing an eye to a certain city block,
the view blurs for a moment, then sharpens.
I gaze upon the affairs of men:
Running a business, coming home, leisure time, repeat.
Running a business, coming home, leisure time, repeat.
I think it's all so trivial from up here.
My view turns black. Has the world gone dark?
I leave, footsteps echoing and then
making the soft grass swish.  I drive
down, down, down... To a city I
think I know more about. But now
it knows everything about me.

5. Hazy pines scatter like birds
and I find a nest of cabins,
speaking in hushed tones about the newcomer.
I am not allowed in.
Fog nestles in between streets.
I must long for a warm night from afar,
Drawing darkness from the trees and rocks
around me like a blanket.
Spots of streetlights shine out through the fog,
blending together like oil on canvas.
I write all the things I'd do
once I'm let inside.
I almost dread losing the mystery
of such a picturesque town.
I dread the monsters inside.
The first thing to do is to find
A bath and a pumice stone,
clean and white,
To cleanse my long-suffering feet.
Mud and grass cling to the heels
Callouses turn toes into terrain.
Thoughts and plans sweep me into a dreamstate, and when
I wake I find curtains of mist lifting with the dawn.
My eyes are swimming in a sea of vertigo
On the discovery of scaffolds and beams.
Neck arched back, the glint of glass floods me,
Sears into my mind the grandeur standing on the shoulders of wooden giants.
How humble cabins withstand such weight is beyond me.
Before me, a log of people I've come to love,
places I've planted myself into.
This town, with these tall, triumphant pines,
A stepping stone to all the things I leave beyond.

Author's Note

Many thanks to my friend Richard, who doesn't have an account here, but deserves acknowledgement all the same!

Reviews

[C. Lee Battaglia]

Wow!
Very well written and it touched me,
Can I just say though, you have potential!
My favorite part was, "Hazy pines scatter like birds
and I find a nest of cabins,
speaking in hushed tones about the newcomer.
I am not allowed in."
Please continue to write and read!
Can you by chance look at my story The Blonde Girl, It would really mean a lot to me.
Your new fan,

C. Lee Battaglia

[Emily]

Thank you so much C. Lee! I will certainly look at your story, in part because I too am a blonde girl! :P

[C. Lee Battaglia]

Lol thanks....

[Cameron Griffith]

Crazy description to this piece that I love it. Huge fan of description, your wording was precise. Loved reading it, I can almost feel each place I was at, smell it, you really brought me into each setting.

[Emily]

Thank you so much Cameron! It was definitely a good study on imagery for me. :)

[Kuandio]

Hi, I am here returning the favor. This is a very impressive poem. I like the original way you organized it, a number for each different kind of place. I have to admit, there were a couple words I wasn't sure about
- nice line - "a highway of wind"
- I think in number three, maybe you meant to say - "Here the people make their shrine" - and not shine?
- another amazing line - "To scrape off the rust they were all born to"
- the last lines of section number four were also great
- another good line - "Drawing darkness from the trees and rocks around me like a blanket"
- Overall, for any age writer, this is a very good poem, but since you say you are a teenager, then I have to give it a 100% rating.

[Emily]

Why thank you Kuandio! No, I meant "make their shine" as in making themselves produce light, glow.