Red Sails in the Sunset how I coined the phrase that marks your memory deep red ink in my book of poetry This isn't goodbye This is acknowledging a faulty compass that led me to your shore Where I lingered too long losing sight of what was real. You were ever so briefly just a mirage not meant to last that did not last. Boldly, proudly, I wrote how I am all the more fully realized for recognizing so for stepping through and closing that door. Meekly and weakly, stumbling over supposedly burnt bridges Drawing blood on pale silks, skinned knees and torn up palms I'd still crawl over the mess bewitched by your charms and crawl back to your mirage. Each page, red ink, a different story, a different version 2.0 was lost long ago and replaced, again and again and again Funny how the saved feature erases or adds on As I'll save another you as another note in my memory book.
I knew once the intoxicating taste of jazz so sweet on a humid august afternoon ever so briefly the moment crescendos... where do you go? in that moment before breath dawns into the breaking of a sound so beautiful bounding down a roadway racing with angels I'll never pretend to understand where do you go in that moment when you close your eyes so briefly as your face reveals the vision that you put into your music so where do you go? on towards the path that is your destiny... music is so predictable after this much of human history nothing is original it's all soul related each stanza a forgotten memory You're nothing new just a reconstructed version 4.0 of something done once before then why is it that the melody of you strikes a chord in me? maybe we were once combined together in a prelude... Red Sails in the Sunset I know this is goodbye the taste of passion is erased from my memory replaced by a word and an image of you destiny led me to you once if the fates so desire we shall meet again still I can taste that lingering jazz...
The Mill. Baldwin-Wallace College.