so late its turning early
dawn is breaking night
surely you recall a moment
i was so fragile, you
turned away, i
didn't realize
didn't know it meant
you wouldn't stay

so fresh still bleeding
unclean untended unseen
seedling without sun leaning
hold your breath
here comes the morning light

i know you had to go
still, you stayed
i never would have left
had to walk away
i learn to pray as my last cigarette
turns to ash
because maybe i needed you
maybe i couldn't do
it alone, wasn't strong enough to keep us together
but i'm strong enough to hold my own

springs arrives once upon a song
on the winter worn valley of us
casting a path between peaks of bitter and sweet
on my knees, good time is hard to make
but better than hard time on my feet
frozen in one place

Sketches

Expanded 3/14/10

Music has always had great power in my life. Through music that is written by others I feel connected to the world and in that which I write, I feel whole.

Its a rare experience to hear music as its written. A rough sketch of what may be tossed aside forever or become something more. I have gotten into recording as soon as I put my pen down - sometimes I don't have the chord progressions finalized and I certainly don't know the words because sometimes they haven't been written. The melody (or lack thereof) is free flowing and still being defined. But most of all - I am still so connected to the song. After the rough sketch the distance becomes greater and greater and the process shifts from "get it all out" to "get it all right". I find these recordings intriguing and wanted to begin to share them. Feedback is welcome.

Measure This

Surrounded by pastel walls
Everything in its proper place
Except all that is inside
Which feels chaotic in this sanitized space

Because my blood is alizarin crimson
Coursing through cerulean veins
This venue's lacking volume
A dynamic that cannot be traced

Measure this is you may
The distance from here to then
Rest assured this is not who I am

Surrounded by experts
In whom I am asked to place faith
As they profess ignorance
Therefore my condition must be fake

I confess I am a little frustrated
As you search through your notes
Always failing to see my worth
Failing to see she loves me

Measure me if you must
But when it doesn't quite add up
Don't patronize me with lines
From your freshman textbook

I reside in a world of causation
Where lay many possibilities
There is room for inconsistency
That is more clearly framed as variety

Because sometimes blue is blue
And orange is only that
Yet when they come together
Brown is born without contradicting previous fact

Measure this if you can
If not - try again
I am losing ground
There is no option - a cure must be found

Measure this if you may
Measure me if you must
Measure this if you can
If not - circle back around again

This cannot be a permanent reality