clear, clean

still fascinated with these yellowing pages
old words that used to have such great meaning
left to burn away in the sun’s harsh caress
an unkown author sitting in the abyss
few moments have ever truly moved them
to feel a heart beat a little faster
before all are overcome by the energies
of the lost worlds last explosion
standing still before the encore
where dust and ash become indistinguishable


set off from loose flame
moving closer to eternity
fever ridden with anxiety
last breaths fall short
old blood is all that remains

stolen hearts are bound
to the sickly hands
that revel in regards
their prescence worth
all the rusted gold

broken up isles lie
to the wind’s last roar
throwing odd directions
at the second chances
forced reactions fail

covered up reliances
vices that won’t quit
but will take control
of the qualities treasured
the embodiment of you

old embers

are you still looking
for the remains of youth
forgotten after all these years
in a place you used to cherish
time has taken it’s toll
those bright shining hopes
have rusted in the rain
deteriorated to their core
no spark can bring them back
reflect on what you’ve lost
old memories have burned out
you’ll come to know this now
there is only redemption
in this charred collection
take better care of the future
cherish each moment one by one
or you’ll be bound to the same fate
as the broken past, repeating failures

pink neon (dawson)

i’ll be fine
by the next time
you catch me on
the corners of our
childhood streets

maybe i’ll look
just a little different
from the last time
you caught a glance
of my pearly whites

still wear jean jackets
with iron on patches
old skull pins
food stains remain
from the tenth grade

they finally tore it down
the building where we met
but just like all our
beat up old memories
it too is gone and forgotten

you can trace the rooms
recall the good times
still cry over the bad
wish you could go back
to try and hold on

but we just stand here
on the same corner
as the last decade burned
as we drifted apart
when the wrecking crew came

broke apart what we had
brick by sentimental brick
busted up pink neon signs
that i should have kept hidden
in my fathers backyard

i looked down the street
every night i left you
looking to the top window
waiting for the light to come on
before i went homeward bound

i’m not around these days
but i look now and again
i turn my head as i pass by
at odd hours of the night
but i fail to see your light

so i continue
with the past on my mind
as the night remains quiet
driving to my new life
on another street corner

waiting for a new neon sign