Vancouver Poetry

The Truth Behind Public Transit

B.C. transit is said to be one of the best in the world,

but this is a lie,

Those with this saying haven’t been twisted and twirled,

This is one statement that cannot be justified.

I hate the lingering odor of dirt,

and all the bumping and squishing,

the sounds of an uncoordinated concert,

I am anguishing.

Sometimes I arrive and the bus comes soon after,

Sometimes the bus never arrives,

There is no laughter,

After an hour when buses come in fives.

The skytrain is great,

If you don’t mind the humming,

It’s actually not that long of a wait,

It is a lot faster than running.

Be careful of all the false claims,

if you decide to suffer all the same.

Brewer’s Wall

The park of my childhood,

Smashing,

Tennis balls,

alone.

Against the staring eye,

until the paint chipped away.

Words and phrases

coloured the wall,

the souls, hearts, and minds of passersby

I erased them,

Vancouver Rain is Falling

Vancouver, Rain is falling...

Gently trickling down,

Invisible against the bright,

Grey Sky,

Splashing against the spit-stained,

Concrete Floor,

Rivulets converge,

Flowing bashfully,

against the smooth curb into the

Dark Depths,

Endless Gutters,

into the vast Ocean,

Shimmering,

Capturing the setting sun.

World of Science

Subtle breeze brushing

softly against my face

as the thicker grey

surrounds the sky.

Cloaking the city from the

beauteous blue above.

Yet persistent rays reach out,

deflecting off the great ball of glass.

The answers lie within,

Although the price to pay becomes

increasingly ridiculous annually,

A home to curious individuals,

Exploring, Learning, Thriving.

Natural phenomena are demonstrated through a

plethora of experiments.

Children learn,

Adults Fathom,

“for science.”

Vancouver

iron sands.

The prerogative wind clashes against the metal housing

a barren wasteland spans the view for the curious

The spanning cityscape is built upon a fallacy

the proud face of vancouver

smiles behind a mask of deceivance

shunning the imperfect

stunning vista

do not be tempted,

iron sands