Dawson S

Dawson S Jan 2019

Allowing light to dance upon the marble rings of a beating tune,
The hole in the tree was made for me and for you.
To warm my shade, a hollow brigade of disdain, pained by the shallow dreams of a young man.
A young man who’s life may be nothing with, nothing without, or possibly everything as a result of the playful light strand.
Gleaming with joy, woe is he who tastes the bitter butter of false promises.
For promises made to him, by him, for him, lead to gods and goddesses.
Giving life to the tree - taking life.
And with the butter, I take thee to a hot knife.

Dawson S Jan 2019

True Love.

I’m falling
And you’re not
The vast ocean spills from my brim
And from you, whispers so paper thin
As I calm you to a still, hopeful pond
And from you, only a reflection of the thought
That maybe I could breathe under water, love
And from you, a filled bottle about to bust
It shatters, broken glass burrows deep
And from you, shining, never as you seem
I shattered and you did not
This isn’t the story I thought
Nor anticipated
And from you, no surprise your wounds have already faded

Dawson S Jan 2019

Drowning.

Dripping roses, each droplet ripples across the pond
Scarring the surface
How many do you want?
One, to bleed as a reminder of the muddy uproar from a stirring
Two, to recede away from the shore as the tide pulls at my thoughts
Three, to blur all my visions as I stay under and under I will remain
For one was my first
And three will be my last
Won’t it?
I float to the surface, back first
Revealing all the scars that hid under the moss
Bubbling mumbles fade as does the final ripple
The roses,
Engulfed.

Dawson S Jan 2019

Happy Gathering.

Slow motion, the first feeling of waking up
Weightless on the smokey breaths from the sweet fruit the night before
Jaded at first, brought to life by the orange and white sky of a summer’s reaching arm
Grasping you until every inch fills with warmth, a warmth only felt by
Trust
Brush the crushed blush away
Fear nothing but the minute on a comical level
You are in tune
As are the waves of truth playing sweet melodies into your opinions of the world
The people
The men and the women
Wishful bliss leaves you as you are dropped from the sun into the rain
Happy gathering.

— The End —