Posts Tagged ‘relationships’

Tears In My Beard

April 14, 2011

I’ve got tears in my beard over you

It’s been near on a year since we’re through

The twine that helped bind us as one

Grew frayed, gave way, we were done

 

It took weeks for my sheets to lose

The perfume that you always overuse

In the night as I turn to your side

I’d smell, I’d remember and I’d cry

 

I’ve got tears in my beard over you

I take blame for the pain you’ve been through

To be close to a man like me

Is no place for a woman so sweet

 

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Providence Love Story

April 13, 2011

Golden blonde and baby blue

How I’ll remember you

And those days of drinking in the sun

Wide-eyed and twenty-two

I fell so hard for you

Never knew that love could come and go

And it grows too big to sometimes hold

 

From Maine to Providence to New Orleans

New Haven to Cambridge and the coast between

To be young and in love and fed by your dreams

The paint may run dry, but it leaves such a pretty scene

 

Followed you down Thayer Street

Wickenden summer heat

India Point as stars ran cross the sky

You’d have to buy my booze

I thought I’d never loose

This love I thought I’d never find

But you knew it was just a passing time

 

From Maine to Providence to New Orleans

New Haven to Cambridge and the coast between

To be young and in love and fed by your dreams

The paint may run dry, but it leaves such a pretty scene

 

I’d take my grandma’s car

Down south just after dark

And leave when the sun was coming up

Those were machine shop days

I’d write on my lunch break

My hands so full of cuts and grease

Smudged words of longing and release

 

Golden blonde baby blue

How I’ll remember you

And those days of drinking in the sun

 

Pine

March 5, 2011

I have a burning heart

It’s calling out for you

It went up with your spark

I tried to put it out

There was nothing I could do

 

A thousand miles apart

Just seems to feed the flames

Alone here in the dark

Fire going wild

I’m wishing it would rain

 

The driest parts are the ones that burn

Just hope that when the flames die down

The spark returns

 

It’s been a lonesome year

But embers still are gold

I keep them in my mind

Check from time to time

That the ashes don’t get cold

 

How long can one heart burn

Before the fuel is gone

I wonder if forever

Or if it’s just until

Someone else comes along

 

The driest parts are the ones that burn

Just hope that when the flames die down

The spark returns

Winds will blow, skies will rain

Just hope that when the smoke all clears

The warmth remains

 

Burn, burn, burn

Through hollow and reed

If you’re the one to finally put it out

Then maybe you’re what I really need

 

When the wildfire’s done

And nothing green remains

Just give a little time

And sure before your eyes

They’ll be grass upon the plain

 

Trees will always burn

When boughs are driven dry

So hard to watch them go

New ones grow so slow

But I guess that’s just life

 

The driest parts are the ones that burn

Just hope that when the flames die down

The spark returns

Winds will blow, skies will rain

Just hope that when the smoke all clears

The warmth remains

 

Heaven’s Sake

March 5, 2011

Been walking down those olden roads

Funny how it wasn’t that long ago

Equal smiles to equal fights

But we made it work, we earned our stars and stripes

 

Never really thought it was the end

Just took a break in hopes of staying friends

You moved away and I gave up

But I always knew that door was never shut

 

Will you be waiting

There at home

I close my aching eyes

And try and will it to be so

Will you be waiting

When I awake

I think I’d make you happy

For heaven’s sake

 

Thought a lot about what I did

You weren’t no angel, but hey, we were just kids

And we loved as children do

Falling hard and trying best to make it through

 

Will you be waiting

There at home

I close my aching eyes

And try and will it to be so

Will you be waiting

When I awake

I think I’d make you happy

For heaven’s sake

 

Alone within my room

City sirens screaming

Pray for sleep to come soon

For dream to overtake me

For she to overtake me

 

Been walking down those olden roads

Funny how it wasn’t that long ago

Still singing songs for you to hear

I hope you’re well, maybe this will be the year

 

Will you be waiting

There at home

I close my aching eyes

And try and will it to be so

Will you be waiting

When I awake

I think I’d make you happy

For heaven’s sake

The Better Life

March 5, 2011

My cinnamon in evening

My coffee and my medicine

 

I’m in love with you

I am finally through

To the better life this time

 

My lullaby in darkened times

My trembling hands are pacified

 

I’m in love with you

I am finally through

To the better life this time

 

You opened up and let me in

I’d wander off to return again

You never strayed nor went away

So I’d always have a home

 

A weakened man, I used to be

A faithful slave to misery

But your smiling heart

It shined on me

And now I find I see

 

Your angel wings, my holy ghost

The missing thing I needed most

 

I’m in love with you

I am finally through

To the better life this time

 

I’m in love with you

I am finally through

To the better life this time

Softest Parts

March 5, 2011

You say take it slow

And I swear I’ll try

But when I hear go

I start flying

 

When I believe, then I fall

And I’m waiting for your call

Cause I believe to be true

The softest parts of you

 

We make a lot of sense

Cause we’re late on time

Won’t you turn to me

And quit hiding

 

When I believe, then I fall

And I’m waiting for your call

Cause I believe to be true

The softest parts of you

 

And one of us is going to go first

I never know which is worse

 

And when we get old

We’ll look back and smile

At the lies we told

For desire

 

When I believe, then I fall

And I’m waiting for your call

Cause I believe to be true

The softest parts of you

A Strange Reconciliation

April 12, 2010

I started playing hockey because of a girl. I believe I was around 8 or 9. This girl was a hockey player and therefore I lied and told her that I, too, played hockey. As I had just moved to town the previous year, such a declaration could well be true to the uninformed. I wanted to play hockey so I could be with her more. When I think back to this bold claim, it amazes me that I followed through to the point of joining the league, and even her team, and yet I had never played hockey before. The fact that I stepped on the ice with buckling ankles, a hodge-podge of my uncle’s old equipment from the mid 70’s and an oversized PacMan T-shirt for a jersey, is so sweet and yet so wonderfully ridiculous. This girl, who went on to play at almost the Olympic level, never once admitted the obvious that this was clearly my first time on the ice. We continued our “relationship” for many years, until the social politics and general confusion of middle school tore us apart. I look back upon those first years with a sighing fondness, a melancholy sweetness, as I went from horrible to terrible on the ice, but had an incredible girl who gave me my first kiss.

The second amazing piece of retrospect to my hockey saga is that I continued to play for 10 years, despite breaking up with the girl when we were 11 and the fact that I was just awful. The first goal I ever scored was the result of having the puck on my stick and my teammate slapping the back of my blade to force the puck into the net.  Nonetheless, it was my number on the score sheet and my dad took me out for a steak dinner. Eventually, I switched to goalie because I had incredibly slow feet and comparatively faster hands.

Throughout middle school and early high school I balanced my love of playing music with a love of hockey. In a rare moment of two worlds colliding, the mullet was the recognized uniform for both the rocker and the hockey player. I wore a mullet with so much pride it even made my Monsters of Rock T-shirt nervous. My Zeppelin posters where paired with my Bruins ones. I dreamed about better, faster guitars, probably some Steve Vai influenced Ibanez at that point, the way I dreamed about better, lighter goalie pads – probably Vaughn Legacy’s. After we hit the neighborly curfew for jamming on Friday nights, we’d spend the rest of the evening smoking cheap pot and alternating between playing hockey on Saga Genesis and watching Rush videos.

As High School progressed, music finally became all-consuming. Despite reaching the Varisty level, I was still embarrassingly awful and it was merely my “Rudy” style of determination that got me on the team. I realized that I did not enjoy hockey, and in fact, it had always been a real source of stress for me. I continued to play because I liked my friends who played, and when I first moved to town I needed a gang. Music became my gang, and I was way better at music than hockey.

After high school, I hung up the pads and went a good six or seven years without even acknowledging the sport. It was somewhere around 2003 when my girlfriend suggested we catch a Bruins game. As we were broke (remember, I’m a musician), it was the cheapest ticket in town. We had a bunch of beers and I remembered how much I liked going to games and particularly the lore of the Bruins of old. Surrounded by the accents, beer and profanity reminded me that I am truly a Massachusetts guy. These people were woven into the fabric of my upbringing just as much as the folks I play with in the clubs and bars. Being in the Garden again reminded me that I loved being from Boston, and although I am a much different person than when I went to my first few games, this is still my home team. We would catch a couple games each year and when she eventually moved out, I sold my hockey equipment to pay some rent and let hockey go from my mind for another couple of years.

Now that I find myself single and free of the day job, I have slowly begun to follow hockey again. Over the past couple of weeks my breaks from writing have revolved around the Bruin’s schedule, and I am slightly saddened when an evening’s plans prevents me from watching a game. The added time around the apartment leads me to occasionally think about shooting a tennis ball around. When sorting through old junk in my parent’s basement a week ago, I spotted my sticks. Although I didn’t think much about them at the time, I found myself a few days later regretting not bringing one back.

There is a strange reconciliation going on here. The hockey experiences from my youth remained deep-rooted scars of desperately trying to fit in, anti-Semite kids and parents, realizing my physical limitations, and not being true to my instincts to play music. My entrance into the professional world of music was a step from which I rarely ever looked back, yet now I am finally finding myself able to reflect with the balance tipped more in the favor of humor and resignation than regret or discomfort. My decisions, or at times, lack thereof, have brought me to this interesting point, and ultimately, it is just what I’m looking for – strange and stimulating experiences to help me see the world with a little more wonder. I am comfortable with who I am and what I do, so I can finally begin to take stock of what got me here and size up what is going to get me where next. Through this journey the strangest thing to come back to me is hockey. Sure, there is a procrastination element to it and it is also playoff time and the Bruins haven’t done shit in awhile, but there is another little ember that keeps this rekindled love affair very mysterious and therefore kind of alluring.

This is the point where I reveal what exactly this ember is, but I don’t think I have that figured out yet and that may be part of what makes this so slippery and intriguing. Perhaps I feel guilty that the sport got wrapped up in so much of my painful adolescence or I feel a strange reverence for the other lover that I had to leave behind when I gave myself fully to music, but I think that it may just be that I have discovered that despite our long, strange, uncomfortable history, sometimes I just like watching hockey. I am seeing the sport through new eyes, and if the game where to be personified, I don’t think they would recognize me either. It is funny and weird and leaves me hopeful about whatever else lies down the road to find that after all of this I kind of like it. I had to grow up to enjoy a game.