Monday, March 22, 2010

Ode to Pittsburgh

I think Pittsburgh is beautiful.
I see in it a visualization of the struggle
of man versus nature and nature versus man
the urban decay at odds with
a more natural entropy
The steel and concrete
rusting and crumbling in the grips of a natural world
that wants to take it back.
In the little nooks and valleys
the abandoned children of industrialization sit
the aged metal as red now as the bricks
of the homes that once housed their blood
and now house the ferocity of LIFE
once abandoned, thriving
under even the least hospitable eaves.

I would say that this is a morbid love song.
but instead of the talk of death in life
and life in death
between two lovers as emotionally entwined
as the rust and root of this city
as the living things flourish unexpectedly
in the ruins of our pasts.
In the crevasses are hidden awaY
the skeletons of our (industrial) revolutions
safely out of mind of the eye of progress.
The victorian edwardian Industr-ian fingers
twisting through the trees that were once shaved
bald from the hills,
when the dirty coal chimnies smoked and raked the sky.

Traces of the old liveliness-
The culture and BREATH of our ancestors-
in the crawling brickwork and tiling
and the decaying steps
that once guided our fathers weary feet back home.
Our shared history, sometimes ignored or forgotten
by the very life that thrives
in it's place.

Maybe you need a special appreciation
for decay- but also an equal passion
for life- to hear the adoration in my voice.
For in every begining
every striving and thriving
there is the traces of our endings
of the sweat and tears
and blood shed on the tracks
of our ever onward progression.
And in every building overtaken
by weeds and youths
the windows shattered or the bricks decayed
is the stimulous for growth
in the same forces we decry today
as destruction, but
will laud tomorrow as our salvation.

When I fell in love with Pittsburgh
it wasn't for the shining lights
or the memories of being held there
so joyous I dared not breathe-
It was that in every corner
I could not help but see
arriving from under our cracks.

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