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


just wanted to
move out of the space
you came into from above
i couldn’t just select all
of my old memories
that i want to erase
completed versions in front
written over old stories
hand in every little thing
you do to stop me from
hurting myself again
the hillside talks at night
while you smoke your lungs out
i just needed to remember
your ironic phrases
from the tip of your tongue
to the bottom of my shoes
with closed hands you struck me
down to the cold river bottom
i still shiver a little
when i hear your name in passing
my teeth still chatter
when cold water goes down
the back of my neck
how do you expect me
to pack up everything
act like it never happened
it’s so hard to forget
but i just wanted to
hold your hand and tell you
there are things i regret

soon, but not soon enough

i haven’t been feeling great
about the world at large
and what’s at stake

you think if i choose to ignore
the people yelling at my door
it’ll stop the next great war

if the tv just stays unplugged
no more consistent heavy buzz
will everyone stop feeling unloved

i could even walk to your place
walk a mile or two to see your face
there must be easier ways to touch base

one day they’ll be no bad news
just the weather man in a poncho
to give us all our raining blues

a just cause

i’ve got nothing here left to give
my old blood has turned hard and smooth
but the memories i had of you
well they remain tired and true
as the sun sets upon my final day

maybe old blue skies are dull
to those who have lost touch
with the whims of yesterdays
and the promises of new futures
soon to come to your doorway

set off my dear friend
for there might just be an end
to the last breath you take
on any given broken day
that leads you to the point

i’m breaking in

quiet hammer

i used to be like you
solid in my mass
light on my feet
i tumble quickly
towards ensuing trouble
i got out of hand
on more then one occasion
i carried the weight
of demise and destruction
on my back on a daily basis
but i gave it all up
so i could fly above
be closer to the sun
and farther from you
so i don’t bother now
to look down or even back
what’s past and below
will stay that way
until i fall back down
when my blood hardens
and my wings shed
slowly back to you