Westerlies

November 22, 2010

Across Elliot Bay,
I can see Alki through
The veil of misting rain.
It is dry here now,
And even though the sun
Quietly illuminates one half
Of the ash grey skies,
The first thing I notice
Is the wind.

A shift in the air, and
The ocean breeze rushes
Against my right side:
It smells like salt,
And something else
I can’t quite place.
A glance upwards and I
See the clouds hurrying
Towards the horizon in
A natural melancholy…
Suddenly I stand and smile.

It is on these days
That my mind wanders
Onto your familiar doorstep;
Too anxious to knock
I simply wait for morning.

MSBQ

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Ninety-Nine

September 27, 2010

Her name seems to change
Every fifteen to twenty miles;
Sometimes she’s just a number,
Some know her by a color and
Others call her by name…
(It’s Aurora, but she’d never tell)
There was a time when everyone
Was excited to see her
With her help, great distances
Could be travelled with ease
Now, after many years,
Her back’s broken and crumbling
And her edges are all worn down
Too many people have gone
Up and down her gnarled path
Sixty years go by and soon
Dirt has gathered, rubbing a
Long grey smudge across her
Blacktop midsection
All she’s ever good for
Is taking one last leap
Or buying sin by the hour
Even her triumph,
Towering by the waterfront,
Disintegrates with each dawn
The sad state of things are
Floating on the arches of
Her one gleaming bridge
Stretching across the night sky
Waiting for the day she’ll
Let herself fall

MSBQ

Rainier

September 10, 2009

Hit the throttle
Two wheels race
Beneath us, the
White and yellow
Lines all a blur
The vastness of
The mountain
Looms higher above
Our heads, twenty
Miles to Paradise
That graceful transition
Mother nature’s
Change of wardrobe
From the autumn green
To a frosted combination
White, grey, and blue
Your hair blowing behind
Trailing us like a tiny
Comet’s tail in space
The air seems thinner
And a little bit colder
I love it when I can
See your breath
We decided to hike to
The east slope to camp
A single tent with a
Single sleeping bag
If for nothing more
Than the chance to see
The sun peek over the
Edge of the world
And begin its steady crawl
Across the sky

MSBQ

Metro August

August 5, 2009

finally, an overcast day
I never thought I would
look forward to grey skies
this city showed me
a new face this summer
besides the hot breath of
a blistering July night
I have seen the city’s
black eyes and bruises
watching drug deals from
the back row of a
green and yellow
metallic caterpillar
an old man sips brandy
beneath restaurant windows
fetid steam rises from
manhole covers and notes
float along Pike from a
homeless man’s cello
my emerald city holds up
two sides of itself
one, the shining hipsters
drinking indie coffee and
listening to indie music
and the other, a twisted
underbelly that smells like
seaweed and coffee grounds
lines slowly blur together
to form a smoky cloud
where I can no longer tell
one side from the other
damn I love Seattle

MSBQ

In Transition

October 9, 2008

originally written in August 2008

Bridging the gap
Between two distinct
Parts of life, it signifies
The end of an age.

Stick out
Your tongue,
You can taste it;
The sweet smell of
White flowers.
You have to savor it:
The feel of cold metal
Against bare flesh
Makes you shiver,
And now you see
Just how far you’ve come
Exploding out of who you
Used to be,
Cascading down
Like a million beads
Of sweat on your brow.
Strike a chord on my
Heartstrings;
Just make sure
They’re in tune
Before you play
The last song
I’ll ever hear,
Tapping like you’re
In six-eight
I just can’t seem to
Follow you like
I used to.

Hands in my pockets
I look to the south, the green
Lights of the city calling my name
And I whisper back, “not yet.”

MSBQ